June 2525, Londinium:

“I’ve got a clean-up job for you.” Foley told her. The last time Abigail had heard those words she had been so excited. But she had failed at that assignment and it still niggled at her. She looked back at Foley showing nothing but confidence, uttering the same words as before.

“Send me the details in the usual way. I’ll take care of it.” Foley nodded at her stoically and cut the connection. It had been four months since her last clean-up job. Since then, all her assignments had been shadowing or bodyguard work. Thanks to her mother, she was only given bodyguard work spying on her rivals – finding a weakness that she could use against them when the time was right. It was soul destroying work, but that was nepotism for you. That’s how Abigail knew the extent of her failure. And now, it seemed, she was being given a second chance. As she ran her hands through her short curly hair the compad by her side beeped. She licked her lips in anticipation and pressed in the access code, listening to the readout.

“This is Arturo Finklemann, 52, largest shareholder in Allied Pipeworks Incorporated, living on Ariel. Your ident card and papers can be picked up in the usual manner. Eliminate him and his family with the minimum of fuss, details attached.” Abigail’s eyebrow raised. She knew the name from one of her previous assignments bodyguarding one of her mother’s rivals. Allied Pipeworks was one of Blue Sun’s main competitors. She sighed, realising for the first time that she wasn’t really an Operative – she was Blue Sun’s personal hit squad.

She got up and took a long shower before selecting a matching pair of bra and briefs of sky blue colour. Ariel was a number of days away by standard public transport, so she packed a small bag of clothing, nothing traceable. The weapons she selected were her favourite gun, the Parsons, three knives and their holsters; one went around her ankle, one at her waist and the other long thin stiletto nestled between her breasts. She would freely admit wea