The chief of MI5 stood hunched over his desk, looking through the collection of surveillance photos that were scattered about with a curious intent on his face. He looked at each one, quickly scanning his eyes to the next and repeating the cycle again, trying to make sense of the concrete evidence that was presented to him. It was right there in front of his very eyes, but his brain just did not want to believe any of it, denying the solid facts that would make an entire jury weep with writhing joy. Everything had been planned out perfectly. How had the raid failed so easily? How had an elite unit of agents been tricked by a bunch of minor conspirators? Where did it all go so wrong? Even then, his questions had to be swiftly swept to the side and another strategy had to be thought up immediately. One that was much more brutal than the last. Sneaky tactics had to be replaced with battle-hardened savagery. War, it seemed, was all these underground psychopaths knew. He took his palms away from the tabletop and stood up straight. He looked up at the agent, a tiny look of uncertainty plastered on his face. “Are you sure that these are accurate?”

  “A hundred percent positive.” The agent replied confidently.

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  “And the DNA and fingerprints? They belong to Ellis Silver?”

  “Yes.”

  “But she’s dead.”

  “These were recent. I am certain that she is still alive. I’m afraid to say that the job has not been finished properly.”

  The chief did not seem at all angry that the mission had been a failure. His face displayed a slight curiosity, but not rage. “But how do you explain the skip full of broken concrete that is outside her house?”

  “They have dug themselves out. The mass of concrete had blocked up the sewers and was discovered by maintenance workers.”

  The chief scoffed. “Of course they had pickaxes.” He said sarcastically. “Why wouldn't they?” He sighed, closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

  “We have to prepare immediately or they will come after us. I am guessing that Ellis wants revenge over the death of Artificis. This fight will not be like the last.”

  The chief put his hand down, opening his eyes, and looked up at the agent. “Okay, listen. Here is what I want you to do...”