They met back up with 595 and most of the other suits at the chrome security checkpoint guarding access to the Mono. Freyr knew that name was out of date now; they’d replaced the old mono with a dual-rail gimbal system a hundred years ago, but all efforts to change the name had failed. Dr Wetherall never failed to gleefully retell that story after a couple of drinks.

The Agent smiled with a tightly closed mouth, spreading her hands slightly to welcome them, pistol still grasped in one of them. “Safe and sound. Is this everyone?” She asked Thrace. “Some of my team are still in the HQ, to avoid concentrating everyone in one place.” Freyr answered for him, stepping forwards. “They need protection tonight, while we do this.”

595 nodded, then flicked her free hand at one of the suits standing by. “Double security up there - no police.”

“Wilco.” Some of the suits set off along the bright white corridor at a fast walk. 595 watched them go, then grinned at the assembled group. “Alright. Let’s get this party started, shall we? The rails are live all the way downstairs.” The Agent turned and led the way through the checkpoint.

Behind the checkpoint was a cavernous tunnel, half polished metal and half ancient rock. A faint breeze ruffled Freyr’s hair from inside, like the breath of some mountain dragon. She buttoned up her lab coat - it was cold down below.