Chapter 7 Kat
KAT
PLAYLIST: OUTRUN – WEARETHEGOOD, LYNNEA
The alarm on my sniffer tool blares as I see the network traffic flags go up, and the activity monitor shows a new process spin up on the sandboxed laptop I use as Ella Larsen.
Lilian is sending that spy tool after me.
I know it’s her, because I already made out the people following me whenever I leave the apartment, and I am prepared: Ghost traffic. Fake history. Sandboxing. Decoy behaviour.
I am intrigued by letting this play out as an experiment.
If I can fool her, I can fool Zeus and, therefore, the government's tracking system. It is, in a sense, a test for any further jobs I’ll do, and I tell myself it justifies the idea to follow through with the entire Lilian thing after all. I’d also like to get my hands on Zeus.
The ghost traffic I let run is mainly the kinds of things Ella Larsen would search for: Job platforms, news from her home country, ways to make money online, and health questions.
I fake some scrolling through social media and dating apps on the phone, add some route planning, and sprinkle in some self-help research.
I let it run for three days. Meanwhile, I match with a cute girl on a dating app and meet her. It’ll drive Lilian nuts, and it’s exactly what I need to provoke her next move.
The girl and I meet for a drink in a cheap bar.
She talks a lot, and I let her. Personally, I find it wild that a woman talks about all her ex-girlfriends on a first date, including an experience with a man, but then, I don’t really want to date her.
Yet, I pretend to understand and hear her; I feel like a therapist at this point.
But it keeps the cover, because the real me would never be that nice—Ella, however, would.
Suddenly, someone walks up to our table from behind me. I feel it first and then see it in my date’s eyes.
“Hi,” says Lilian as her hand brushes over my shoulder. I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep the grin of my success from showing on my face.
“Excuse me,” Lilian says to my date. “But she’s taken. Now hush.”
My date looks at me, horrified.
“You see that bodyguard there?” asks Lilian, her voice dangerously. “I’d leave fast before I tell him to remove you.”
The poor girl jumps up and flees the bar.
Lilian can be very intimidating, not that I didn’t expect it. In any other setting, I would’ve already made her bend for me, just for the sake of showing her her place.
Lilian sits down opposite me, in a navy female suit and an ascot, perfectly fitted—a mix of old money and main character.
I stare at her with my hand in front of my mouth because I am caught speechless in a limbo of containing myself from saying all the things I shouldn’t say and being robbed of my words because that move, plus the way she looks, is damn hot.
“Hi, I’m Lilian,” she says and holds out her hand.
Between hating her and being somehow intrigued by her, I bite my lips as a grin spreads over my face, because damn, she really has balls. And style.
Lilian very well notices my reaction. I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. I can’t believe she’s really doing that.
“I thought you didn’t do romance,” I say. “So why are you here?”
“Saving you from a boring date with a woman who is mentally unstable,” Lilian says carelessly.
She’s so overstepping and calculating.
“And you are?” I ask, eyebrow drawn up.
“Very.”
“Mhm,” I say. “Overconfidence, boundary-crossing, cold-hearted, don’t ever fall in love with me rich girl. Sounds like something between childhood trauma and a diagnosis with a -pathy in the end to me.”
Lilian laughs. One of the rich laughs that only very wealthy people have.
“Sounds about right,” says Lilian.
Don’t, don’t, don’t, I tell myself, before I do it.
“I wonder what made you stay in the hotel under a false name.”
Lilian’s face falls for the tiniest fraction of a second before she rearranges her masks.
“I’m sure you have heard about what happened with my colleague and co-founder if you went so far as searching for me.”
“I have. That’s how I knew who you really are. So, you were scared.”
“Why is it so important?” asks Lilian.
“Just checking if you are a person or if I need to get into protective custody after saying no to you,” I say in a sardonic tone and a small chuckle. I notice my cover fading. I can’t keep Ella present enough with Lilian.
Lilian eyes me. I can feel it. I said one thing too much. There is no way around it. I have to kill her today.
That talk she had with her father…Maybe she’s getting the girls for him. She has said all the indicative things. There is no way she is not guilty. She admitted being guilty of something, for heaven’s sake. She makes me slip. And I can’t have anything slip further.
“What drives you?” she asks me out of the blue, and I am utterly taken aback.
Ella, answer as Ella.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Why did you leave Denmark?”
“Always thought there was more to life than the nothingness of the town I was born in.”
“Then why don’t you take up my offer?” asks Lilian. “Everything is right in front of you.”
“I can’t,” I say and break the gaze to stare at the table.
“And why is that?”
I want to scream at her.
Because everything is fake. Because you are a lying she-devil who participated in a network of trafficking and murder. Because you are the one percent asshole who doesn’t give a fuck about anything. Because I was fucking raped and promised the fucking same thing by your business partner.
Instead, I say, “Because I do romance, and you don’t.”
Because I am supposed to be Ella.
My eyes wander back to hers, just in time to see the mask slide back up.
“If you ask me,” says Lilian with eyes like slits, “You are lying to yourself.”
I groan because Lilian isn’t easily fooled. She sees there’s something underlying, something that doesn’t add up, and it’s because I am performing poorly.
So, I don’t respond.
We glance into each other’s eyes. A flutter stirs in me. I need to get away.
“You really need to work on your issues to take a no,” I finally say, and Lilian laughs.
“Why?” she says, “Works out fine that way, doesn’t it?”
I only sigh and get up to leave.
“You and your fuck ton of money can pay for this here,” I say as I walk away.
I walk past the bodyguard, and if I wasn’t entirely wrong, I saw his eyes twitch in an approving twink.
As I step outside onto the sidewalk, I inhale the night air and absorb the night hour buzz of Manhattan. It clears my mind instantly.
And I need the clarity. Because I have to end it. What Sutton had on her is enough. I can’t get any closer than this. It has to happen tonight, before anything else happens.
By the time I reach Ella’s home, I have made out at least three people tailing me. One by car, one by foot, and one by cycle.
The first thing I do is set up ghost traffic on the phone for five hours, so it looks like I am in bed and falling asleep at some point.
I also block all cameras on any device associated with the Ella identity.
Afterwards, I slip into some comfy clothes, cover my hair, put on gloves, and begin to erase traces. I always keep an emergency set close by, just in case, so I can clean out everything fast if necessary.
I clean the apartment so it doesn’t raise any suspicion, just in case someone comes looking and things go wrong, private as much as federal.
I will take the important stuff with me anyway, meaning my own laptop and burners, guns, munitions, knives, medkit, injections, drugs, and the rest can be found without anything traceable to the real me.
I stand in the middle of the apartment, the acid smell from the wiping penetrating my nose, thinking. I am still not sure how I am going to kill her. She has a highly secure house, and a kill at a distance seems preferable to me because getting close to her is dangerous.
But getting to her at a distance is almost impossible right now. I know her bodyguard is a former Secret Service agent who earned several medals of honor for his service; he’s not one to be fooled.
After considering every angle, I can only get to her by getting close.
But to get close, I need to use the Ella identity, which means I’ll blow it.
In other words, I have to burn this apartment down.
Because that’s what I do. Burn down every trace.
Just like I burned down the house with my dead father in it when I was twelve.
I prepare everything. I have burned many things up to this point, and I know many ways to do so.
The main objective for me today is to burn it down just in time so I can get to Lilian and get access to Zeus before they find out Ella’s apartment is burning down, while the fire also has to be fast enough to burn every trace of evidence that points back to the real me in case of a fast reaction of the firefighters.
Okay, first things first.
I take the phone, stop the ghost traffic, and send Lilian a message.
You
What if I say yes?
My chest heaves up and down as anticipation flushes through it. I can’t tell what it is, but every time I get closer to her, I get this jittery sensation in me, and I hate it.
Lilian
I’d tell you to meet, and we’ll discuss the details.
You
Where?
Lilian
I have someone pick you up.
Shit, I curse in my mind. Because being picked up means I can’t take my stuff, it's too risky to be searched. But I can’t leave my things here either. I also can’t deposit them anywhere else without being followed.
You
No, we meet somewhere public
I answer, but I already know she won’t go for it. Lilian is intelligent, and most of all, very bossy. It’s her way or none at all. I know, because I am the same. Ella, however, isn’t.
Lilian
Clause 11.3. I say when, where, and how.
I shake my head and grin as I read it. It was exactly what I thought would come.
Okay, improvising, let’s see how much she wants Ella.
You
Didn’t sign yet. I’ll be at Mojo’s in two hours, be there or it’s a no.