A phone call was all it took.

All it took to turn Alison Hendrix's life completely upside down.

What had started as a regular Saturday afternoon; kids playing in the yard with Donnie, a fresh stack of Gemma's birthday party invites to be written and a nice new box of glitter pens to christen, had very quickly been turned on its head...

"Hello? Alison Hendrix speaking."

"Alison? Wow... Uhh, I think we need to talk."


Three days later and Alison found herself parked under a bridge adjacent to a police station, in a neighbourhood she'd never usually be seen dead in, her knuckles white as she clutched desperately onto the steering wheel. The only sound filling the space was the low hum of the engine, still on standby in case she needed to bolt. Which she was pretty sure she was going to.

None of it made sense. The phone call hadn't been long, in fact just a few murmured instructions from a formal yet vaguely shaky voice. But the woman had told her enough to warrant her current state. And after the sudden hang up, the ten missed calls and then finally, the more detailed call after, Alison was in a state of panic.

This wasn't what usually happened to the average suburban housewife. This wasn't what should happen. Life was a comfortable cycle of lunching with the ladies, book clubs, neighbourhood gatherings where she could brag about the brand new craft room she'd forced Donnie into finishing. Nice and peaceful. Organised and controllable.

Not this. Not... Whatever it is the woman had explained. She hadn't said her name. And she'd skipped the usual pleasantries that one would expect on a phone call from a stranger. Instead she'd launched straight into it. Her clipped tone running over details and saying words that Alison could barely get her head around. Which made her want to run. It had to be a joke. Or a scam. She'd heard of these spam emails sent to your account pretending to be tech support, asking for your eBay username and password and people fell for it all the time. It was one of those, right?

But try as she might, Alison couldn't avoid it. No amount of missed calls or new phones or abandoned searches on Craigslist for affordable assassins could make this go away.

The woman had desperation in her voice that Alison couldn't deny. And there was a certain curiosity... Plus she'd mentioned she was a police officer... No. She'd meet her once. One time. Explain she wanted nothing to do with this ridiculous scheme and be done with it.

Which found her under the bridge, her eyes trained in front of her for any sign of the body that this mysterious voice belonged to. She'd said Alison would recognise her. If this was Aynsley playing some kind of stupid prank, she'd be furious.


Beth Childs drummed her fingers impatiently against the hard wood of her desk, glancing up at the clock every thirty seconds and sighing loudly every time. Her foot tapped insistently on the floor as she slouched in her seat, forgotten piles of paperwork heaped next to her. When was it going to be 3pm already...

"Got places to be, Childs?" her partner Art Bell asked mockingly, clicking away on his computer just a few feet away. Their desks were positioned just so that he could basically feel the tension vibrating off of the woman.

"Could say that," she grumbled back, sitting forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

Art just shook his head with a smile and continued on with his work. When Beth was in one of these moods, it was easier just to let her get on with it. He was sure he'd end up hearing it all later in an angry rant at the range.

"Fuck it." Beth shot up from her chair and grabbed her coat, scooping up some files from her desk. She made her way to the door in a jumble of paper and fabric, mumbling under her breath. "I'll just be early."

Beth hated being in this position. Ever since this Katja had visited her and this whole situation had blown up, she was looked to as the leader. The saviour of the group that would keep their cause moving. But she had shit to do. She'd been the one to meet Katja and Cosima first off. Why couldn't Cosima meet this one? She was friendlier anyway.

Rounding the corner, she immediately spied the cumbersome minivan parked off in the distance, the vehicle sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of abandoned shopping carts and trash bags. A minivan. Great, this one was suburban. Just the dynamic we need in the group. Anal and uptight. The day they sent her a trained marine was the day she sang to the heavens.

She pulled up her collar and hurried over, heading straight for the passenger door. It was locked.

Beth's jaw tightened as she looked into the van window and was met predictably with someone that was almost the exact copy of her. And the face that stared back was one of complete horror. Her eyes were huge like saucers and she looked like she was trying to get the opposite door to swallow her up she was pressed so close to it. Here we go again.

"Just open the door and let me explain." She came across a little more aggressive than intended. "Please?"

The shaking in Alison's hand could be seen from outside the car as she leant forward to unlock the door, rapidly returning to her retreating state like she had just put a glass over a spider.

Beth rolled her eyes and entered the car.