44. Ellie #2
"I spent weeks not knowing what was real.
Waking up in the middle of the night wondering if Killian was real or if Grace had planted him in my head.
Wondering if I'd ever been a real person or just a collection of her programming.
" I pause. "You want to know if I'm Grace's creation? Maybe I am. But not the way you think."
"Then, how?"
"She taught me what it feels like when someone's inside your head. She taught me what manipulation looks like from the inside." I hold his gaze. "Which means I know exactly what you're doing right now. And it's not going to work."
His jaw clenches.
"You want me spiraling about whether my love for Killian is real.
You want me questioning myself instead of questioning you.
" I pick up the pen. "But here's the thing about surviving what Grace did.
I know the difference between what's real and what's planted.
I've lived in both. And Killian?" I smile.
"Killian is real. I know because Grace tried to make me hate him, and I couldn't. I know because every choice I've made since I got out has led me back to him.
Not because I was programmed to. Because I chose to. "
Julian's silent now. The confident smirk is gone.
"So yes. Maybe I am Grace's greatest creation. She made me someone who can see through your bullshit. Now. Let's talk about The Order's pharmaceutical division. Starting with names."
"The Order's pharmaceutical arm operates through shell companies—"
"Names, Mr. Ross. Specific individuals with oversight authority." I keep my voice flat. "Board members, financial controllers, operational commanders."
He stares at me for a long moment. "You really have recovered, haven't you? Grace would be... proud isn't the right word. Fascinated, perhaps."
"Names," I repeat.
Julian sighs. "Very well. But understand, Doctor, that what I'm about to tell you will change your life forever. Once you know the scope of what you're facing, there's no going back."
"I stopped believing in going back the moment Grace strapped me to a table. Now talk."
Hour One:
Names. Locations. Shell companies in the Caymans. Julian talks like he's reading from a quarterly report.
Hour Two:
My hand cramps from taking notes. My lower back aches from the metal chair, and the fluorescent lights have been boring into my skull for ninety minutes. Julian hasn't looked away from me once. He’s still going.
"State secrets. Corporate espionage. Blackmail material on world leaders.
" Julian's voice is almost conversational now.
"Arms trafficking through defense contractors who supply both sides of conflicts.
Technology firms that steal industrial secrets and sell them to competitors.
Pharmaceutical companies that suppress treatments to keep diseases profitable.
The conditioning work was always a side project.
Useful for eliminating specific threats or creating useful assets, but not central to the mission. "
"Which is?"
"Control. Not flashy domination or world conquest." He leans back as much as the restraints allow. "The Order doesn't want to rule governments, Doctor. We are the invisible hand that guides them. The silent partner in every major decision."
I watch him. He hasn't blinked once. The pulse in his neck is steady, mocking the intensity of what he’s admitting. He isn’t lying. This is his reality. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s a war they’ve already won.
He's talking too freely. The confidence bothers me.
"Why are you telling me all this?" I ask. "You're not the type to simply give up information."
Julian smiles. "Because it doesn't matter, Doctor.
You think I'm worried? The Order doesn't abandon valuable assets.
They'll come for me. It's just a matter of time.
And when they do, all this information you're so carefully recording?
It won't help you. Some of it's real. Some of it's misdirection. Good luck figuring out which is which."
"You're that confident they'll rescue you?"
"I've been with The Order for over forty years.
I know where the bodies are buried, literally and figuratively.
They're not going to let me rot in some basement.
" His eyes glitter. "So yes, I'll talk. I'll give you names, locations, and operations.
And you'll waste months chasing your tails.
By the time you realize I've been lying to you, I'll be long gone. "
My stomach tightens. He genuinely believes they're coming for him. And if he's right...
"So you're betting we can't touch you."
"I'm betting The Order will extract me before you can do anything useful with what I've told you." His smile widens. "And I'm curious to see the look on your face when they do."
"How many Ghost operatives are currently active?" I ask, thinking of Killian in the other room, listening to every word.
"Fifteen that I'm aware of. Could be more. The conditioning division operates on compartmentalized information." Julian shifts in his restraints, wincing as the movement pulls at his wounded shoulder. "Most don't know about each other. It's safer that way, you see."
"Safer for whom?"
"For the Order. Hard to kill an entire program if the subjects don't know it exists." Julian meets my eyes. "Did you really think Killian was the only one? That Grace's facility was unique? We've been perfecting this for decades."
"Where are the other Ghosts?"
"Corporate security. Private military contractors. Law enforcement. Government agencies. At least three are in federal positions that would investigate crimes like kidnapping. Which is why your plan to involve the authorities was always doomed."
My stomach drops. We made the right choice keeping Julian off official radar, but for worse reasons than we imagined.
"Names and command structure of The Order's leadership," I demand. "We've destroyed the facilities, but who's really running this organization?"
"Now we're negotiating valuable information. What are you offering in exchange?"
I hold his gaze.
"Your life," I say. "Continued cooperation in exchange for continued breathing."
"Ah, direct threats. I appreciate the honesty." Julian doesn't look intimidated. "But consider this, Doctor: I'm worth more alive than dead. Kill me, and you lose access to everything I know about The Order's true leadership structure."
"We have what you've already told us."
"A fraction of what I could tell you. The real identities behind shell companies, the actual decision-makers who've run this organization for decades, the succession plans that go back generations.
" Julian leans forward. "The operations you don't even know to ask about yet.
The ones that make psychological warfare look like a side project.
" He pauses. "Information that could actually destroy The Order rather than just damaging a few operations.
But that level of cooperation requires better terms than 'don't kill you. '"
"What terms?"