In the circular room below the 'Hang-out', below Hangar 42, the body of Monty lay cold and slumped upon the black carpet. He was dead. His head had just been spat out of the tank, the liquid within no longer desiring his company.
Alistair removed his own head from the tank. He kicked Monty's leg out of his way. He got his mobile phone from his breast pocket and stepped into the elevator. He noted in the mirror that his thinning hair and sharp edged nose were bone dry, if a little shinier. He combed his hair back into place.
Once out in the main plaza of the ground-floor Hanger Alistair spotted an officer with suitable security clearance. ‘Officer Stewart.’
‘Yes sir?’
‘There’s been an accident in the circle room. Could you have it cleaned up? Completely please. No paperwork.’
‘Of course sir. Good day.’
Alistair smiled briefly and continued on his way. He walked across to the edge of the building - strangely, despite the cell tower being nearby the phone reception here was never good. Alistair's mobile phone had only three buttons. He pressed the one marked 'E'. On the third ring the call was answered. Whoever picked it up did not think to say, 'Hi'. After a brief pause Alistair quietly said, ‘Retrieve the ruro globe then destroy Operative 4. Prime the ruro into the mind entity ready for transport to the big fellow. Do not send till you receive final authorisation from me personally. Accept instruction from no-one else, military or civil and DO NOT part with the ruro till I say. Is that clear?’
The Leader did not reply. Alistair knew he had been heard. The one who called himself The Leader ended the call and started the powerful silver van. The Leader smiled to himself.