Colonel Kaminski followed Dr Carmichael’s lab coat through nondescript, gun-grey corridors. He led with an enthusiastic scuttle like Igor, leading Dr Frankenstein to his lab. Kaminski stopped at a sign for the Infirmary and rifled through papers on a battered clip-board.

‘Where is Colonel Spinks’ report?’ she asked.

Carmichael stared at his feet like a guilty child. She scared him. Not just because she was a six-foot, decorated war hero but also because she controlled the money. Kaminski handed Carmichael the clipboard and pointed at the door to the infirmary. ‘Shall we?’

‘No need,’ Carmichael replied. ‘They’re back on active duty.’

Kaminski’s mask faltered. Was that surprise? Carmichael was happy to be back in charge. He continued past the infirmary towards the end of the corridor and punched the shiny square button on the wall that would call the elevator. They stood in an awkward silence for what felt like an eternity to Carmichael until a gentle ‘PING’ announced the arrival of their ride. The matt grey doors slid open with a gentle sucking sound and Carmichael stood aside and swung his arm in an arc towards the elevator compartment.

‘Shall we?’

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