The agents returned to MI5, their mission complete. The main leaders of the operation stood at the office door. One of them knocked on it.

  “Enter.” The chief called out. They stepped inside. “So? How did it go?”

  “Pulvis is no threat to us anymore.” One of them said. Suddenly, the chief’s eyes lit up.

  “Is that so? How can you be sure?”

  “Artificis is dead. They have no leader to call upon.”

  “And what about Ellis? I trust that she is dead as well?” Once he saw the hesitation in their eyes, his smile disappeared, replaced with disappointment. “You left her alive, didn’t you?”

  “She’s heavily wounded, she’s going to bleed out and die. She probably has by now.”

  “And how do you know that there isn’t a doctor operating on her right now? You do understand how the power hierarchy works, right?”

  The agents all looked at one another with a slight terror on their faces.

  “You had her!” He shouted, his eyebrows twisting. “You had Artificis’ assistant right there, and you let her get away! Why didn’t you just shoot her for God’s sake?!” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and then rubbed his eyes with both fingers. “Alright...alright.” He said quietly and then opened his eyes. “Listen, here is what I want you to do. Get the hell out of here, do whatever the hell it is that you do. Pulvis is not your concern anymore. I have no choice but to go to our last option. Do I make myself clear?”

  Both agents quickly nodded and then turned, leaving the office without saying another word. The chief sighed and stood up from his desk, walking out of his office.

  The chief drove into the empty underground car park and parked his car, got out. He walked over to a lift and pressed the button. The lift doors opened up and he stepped inside. The elevator contained no buttons. He reached into his trouser pocket, drawing out a set of keys and stuck one into a round keyhole, turned it. The lift doors closed and he took the key out, put it back into his trousers. The lift proceeded to travel downwards and soon stopped. The doors in front of his face opened up and he was greeted by a single long corridor. He walked down it and stood at a metal door with no handle. A single red light glowed above it. Opening a gamewell, he took the phone and put it to his ear, pressed a single button. “19 organisations merged into four and two shall be forever hidden.” He simply said. The light suddenly buzzed and turned green. The chief put the phone back onto its hook, closing the gamewell, and pushed the door open. He let it swing close behind himself and entered the hidden organisation. There were a small number of people working on computers and the place looked virtually empty. The organisation was only reserved for the elite of the elite. The top two percent. The chief walked over to a door and opened it. He walked down a corridor with rows of doors on either side. Echoing screams could be heard. Suddenly, the crack of a bone could be heard and an agonising scream followed. The chief continued forward, unfazed, and opened up another door, entering a small room. A woman sat at a desk, lacquering her fingernails. She looked up at him. Putting down the small brush, she pressed a button on the intercom.

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  “The chief of MI5 is here to see you.” She said.

  “Send him in.” A voice on the other side replied.

  The chief looked at her. “How did you know I was here to see him?”

  The secretary looked up at him. “There is only one reason you would visit a place such as this.”

  “Hmph.” Was all the chief said, and then walked over to the door, opening it. He closed it behind himself and entered the brightly lit office. A man in an expensive suit sat behind a desk. He looked up at him as the chief sat down opposite him.

  “What brings you back to MI18?” He asked.

  “I have a bit of a predicament and I have no choice left.”

  “And that is?”

  “Artificis is dead.”

  The chief's eyes lit up with sheer excitement. “This is excellent news! Pulvis is done for! This deserves a drink!” He stood up from his seat and briskly walked over to a cabinet, opening it up. He quickly poured two glasses of expensive cognac and handed one of them to his friend. He took it and the chief of MI18 clinked his glass to his friend's. He took a single swig, but his friend stayed still, slightly annoyed. He put the glass down onto the desk, not touching a drop.

  “You did not let me finish. Artificis is dead, but now Ellis has taken over the organisation.”

  “I'm sorry?” He asked, his eyes widening, his face not believing what it had just heard.

  “Our plan just went from worse to catastrophic. Artificis may have been dangerous, but if Ellis gets riled, she will become the most dangerous woman in existence. We need to take care of her and I do not have the resources to. That's why I need your help. I have lost 308 agents.”

  The chief looked at him solemnly. “Christ, I’m sorry to hear that. What do you want me to do? Kill her?”

  “Yes, but not just yet. We need information. If we are to do this correctly, we need a plan.”

  “Then I’ll send out a double agent.”

  “That will have to do for now.”