Arriving at the room, you realise it's empty except for a few polystyrene cups blowing gently in the breeze created by your opening of the door. Are you going mad, or is it something worse?

Slowly you turn, and make your way back to the hell hole, where you find a voice squawking at you madly from the communications console.

"What the HELL do you think you're playing at Sergeant?! Sergeant?! Are you listening to me?!"

"Y-yes sir." you stutter. Major Stiles doesn't seem happy.

"Did you think it was FUNNY Sergeant, to call in a false alarm?! I have a platoon on red alert down here! Do you realise that this is an incredible waste of resources, that we CAN'T AFFORD to lose?!"

"I'm sorry Sir," you say, trying not to let the fear show in your voice. "I though I saw - "

"Don't let it happen again soldier!" barks the Major.

You sink back in your chair, wondering what on earth is going on. Maybe you've been stuck here too long. Perhaps you ought to radio in, saying the stress is getting to you. It probably wouldn't have much effect, but you might get pulled back up to the surface to see a shrink. You rub your eyes. It would be no good calling in now, all you'd get is an irate and unsympathetic Major Stiles.

So you have to wait. There's nothing you can do now. You reach out to the coffee pot once more, then hesitate. Actually, there is something you can do. You can take a look at the surveillance tapes. That would at least confirm whether or not there was something there.

You pull out the most recent tape and jam it into second moitor, forwarding through it until you reach the right bit...

The End

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