The insurgents Underdogs were able to utilise a weakness in the Inner City walls staff incompetence, and escaped the prison on the morning of April 28th. They were able to destroy the clone factory as planned (in addition to seizing intel on the AME project from an officers' sector), and escaped with Alex Ginelli. The exception being Charlie Coleman, who was apprehended and killed shot repeatedly in the chest by Oliver Roth, bringing his Underdog kill count to eight of the morons.

Roth smiled. It was an improvement at the very least. He read the final paragraph as he rose to his feet.

To date, the surviving Underdogs remain at Spitfire’s Rise. They are assumed to be planning their next move against the AME project. As a result of their raid, research regarding AME has been sped up dramatically.

Talking of AME, it was time for those fireworks. Roth jogged towards the door: Grant, Marshall and Pearce would wait for him even if he walked, but he couldn’t wait to see the experiment for himself.

*

With a swipe of his keycard and the flicker of a green LED, Oliver Roth was granted access to the Experiment Chamber. The teenage assassin found himself in the same room as Iain Marshall, New London’s Head of Military, and Nathaniel Pearce, its Chief of Scientific Research. Only Grant himself was missing.

‘Evening, Oliver,’ said Nathaniel Pearce with shallow sarcasm. It was barely seven in the morning, but Pearce took every opportunity to point out his colleagues’ faults, including lateness.

Roth smirked, and said nothing. Part of being fearsome meant knowing when not to step into arguments.

‘Is the subject ready?’ Roth asked, spotting the figure behind the glass.

‘He doesn’t look it,’ replied Pearce, taking a sip of coffee from a mug which read ‘smart-arse and proud of it’ in big bold letters. ‘Not that it matters.’

Roth took a closer look at the clone inside the chamber. He may have been a manufactured collection of factory-grown flesh and organs, but the emotions on his face seemed very real. He showed signs of nervousness and suspicion, clueless as to why he was armed to the teeth with an assault rifle, holstered handguns, grenades and a belt full of hunting knives. Especially since the Experiment Chamber around him was almost empty, hosting little more than a pair of stone pillars that stretched to the ceiling, positioned a metre apart in the centre of the room.

Roth glanced to his left. Iain Marshall was predictably impatient, his hands in his pockets and his top lip beginning to quiver. Nathaniel Pearce wore his usual creepy smile, perhaps a little too entertained by his own work.

‘Are we nearly there yet?’ Roth asked.

‘AME is four months ahead of schedule,’ Pearce replied. ‘You can wait another minute.’