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It was the kind of diner where nobody asked questions. You went in, you met whoever you were meant to meet, and you got out. It was probably a front for some kind of crew, or syndicate, or cartel. Surprisingly, it sold pretty damn good noodles, for a filthy dive infested with low-lives and...

Cormund, Brentaal IV You can do this. He won't know what hit him. Jules kept that thought in her head as she checked her make-up in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect. She had no reason to doubt the info she'd paid for but she wasn't going to let this chance slip through the net...

"Hey! You can't smoke here." Jules rolled her eyes, flicking the cigarra stub across the floor. Rules, rules, rules. That was why she hated Chandrila. Every second back there was a risk. A risk of being recognised, a risk of being caught. Normally, she'd avoid the place like... well, like...