The chief of MI5 sat at his desk, casually rapping his fingers away on the tabletop. His eyes scanned swiftly through classified documents displayed on his computer screen as he tried to come up with a strategy. Clicking on a document, he read through it, looking at the blueprint. He frowned, contemplating the option. He had to think quickly, lest there be a war. The casualties would be immense and he could not afford that. Pulvis had to be promptly taken care of and Artificis and Ellis were the top priorities. They had to be wiped from England’ surface completely. One spontaneous attack had already failed and he needed a better plan. A second raid would be even more devastating for his side. Pulvis would be prepared and would not make the same mistake twice. There was a knock on the door. “Enter.” He called out. The door opened up and in walked his secretary. She handed him a document and then turned back towards the door. “How long has it been since the double agent was sent out to Pulvis?”

  The secretary stopped and turned around to face him. “It has been almost three days.”

  “And you are certain that there have been no messages from him?”

  “Positively. Not one phone call.”

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  The chief sighed, almost with a hint of sadness.

  “You don’t think–?”

  “I fear that they have got to him. We need to try something else. We need to find a way on how to bring them down. Or, at least severely damage them.” He grunted and then frowned for a second, an unwanted notion popping up into his head. It was stupid, possibly suicidal. It would turn his men into nothing but cannon fodder. Of course Pulvis would have some sort of counter-attack planned, but it was still better than sitting around and waiting for their enemy to come to them. The battle might still be won and the scales would tip in MI5's favour. If they managed to deflect the counter-attack then Pulvis would surely be done for. A brutal war would be averted and countless lives would be saved. It was agents versus conspirators. The result was almost a hundred percent predictable. He made a silent, snarling face as he gave in to his dark desire. “Connect me to the most experienced captain of the Astute class.”

  The secretary made a worried face, doing her best to dissuade him from his suicidal plan. “What you are talking about is a potential world war.”

  “Do it.” He ordered firmly with a hint of anger in his voice, his eyebrows twisting in quiet rage. Without another objection, the secretary immediately nodded and walked back to her desk, picking up the phone.