Disclaimer: I don't own Angel the Series. Sucks, but its true. And I wish I was making money off this, just so I'd actually have some. I'm broke, so there's no point in suing me.
Thanks to Starway Man for his beta-reading services
Exit Strategy
By Alkeni
Chapter 14: Making a Move
Linda Reisan's Apartment, Los Angeles
August 16th, 2001
Getting a duplicate made of Linda's key had been harder than she'd have liked. And more expensive too. Lilah was starting to run up against the limits of the money she had on hand, between normal expenses, the rent and of course, the considerable expenses that she'd made in her various investigations into Lindsey and where the hell he might be hiding her mother.
But she had been able to get that copy made, and so here she was, waiting in Linda's apartment, wearing 'crime scene' gloves and moving carefully. Given that it was a Wolfram and Hart employee who lived her, and given the...relationship between the firm and the LAPD, it wasn't unlikely that the police would do a cursory investigation, at best.
Still, I'm not leaving any evidence behind if I can avoid it. Lilah hadn't made it to where she'd gotten in the firm, hadn't made it out of the firm alive and stayed alive this long by being deliberately sloppy.
Not that I didn't make mistakes, as it turns out. Lilah banished the thought from her mind. She wasn't going to dwell on that. She wasn't Angel, to brood for its own sake. Besides, my forehead isn't the right size.
Lilah waited, just inside Linda's kitchen, waiting for Linda to come home. Assuming Linda kept to her usual observed schedule, she'd be back in...
Lilah checked her watch.
Four more minutes, give or take.
As it turned out, it took her five minutes to get back, and when the lock turned and the door opened, Lilah held her gun – a throwaway piece she'd bought off of some guy in an alley – at the ready. She'd only handled it while wearing gloves, and she intended to leave it at the scene. If all went according to plan, she could even stage this as some sort of suicide.
Well, let's not hope for too much Lilah, she thought to herself.
Only when the door was closed, locked and Lilah was sure Linda was inside did she step out of the kitchen, the gun pointed at the paralegal.
"So, Linda. Long time no see." Lilah smirked at the sudden terror that passed across Linda's face, though the paralegal did manage to get her expression under control after a few seconds. Occupational hazard of working at Wolfram and Hart, Lilah knew full well.
"Lilah." Linda said after a moment, her eyes on the gun. "What do you want?"
"Right to the point. I like that." Lilah gestured to Linda's 'dining room' table – it was in the same space as the living room, but it served as that much. Cheap table, cheap chairs. But it would do. Pull one of those chairs out and sit in it. No sudden moves. While I'd rather not kill you before I know what I came to find out, I'm more than willing to."
Linda's eyes narrowed, "You'll kill me anyway."
"No guarantee of that." Lilah told her. "I will kill you if you don't do what I want you to do. Would you like to play the odds? Do you really think you can call anyone or try anything before I shoot you?"
"I don't know where Lindsey is keeping your mother." Linda told Lilah, as she carefully moved for the chair, sitting down in it, her eyes still on the former lawyer. "I'm not even technically supposed to know he has your mother."
"Oh, I know you don't know where she is. Believe me, I know Lindsey isn't stupid enough to let that kind of information fall into your hands. Hands behind the chair." Lilah gestured with her gun as she moved towards Linda – as she did so, she picked up a pair of handcuffs – rather stupid looking fuzzy pink ones. You may as well just not have them if you're going to go with something this stupid.
They weren't very strong, but they should do for Linda, for the moment. Keeping her gun trained on Linda, she put the cuff's on her, though it took some co-ordination to get them on both of her hands.
"Now," Lilah said, standing now in front of Linda, "I've already got your computer, but I need a few things from you to use what you have on it. Such as your password."
Linda looked at Lilah, flicking her head a little to get a stray red hair out of her face. Lilah saw the paralegal gulp again, but still, she had her expression under control. "387910Blue. One word, capital B."
Lilah looked at the woman, wondering if she was lying. She could always test it before she left, though, and Linda would know that.
"Well, we'll see if that's right. I suppose the next question is, what isn't on your hard-drive? You've got to have paper copies somewhere." Lilah walked closer to Linda, standing to the side, where the woman couldn't kick her easily if she decided to kick her.
"Safe deposit box." Linda said, "But there's no way I'm telling you that. Not until-"
"Ah, ah, ah." Lilah tapped Linda's head with the gun lightly. "No setting conditions on this, Linda." Lilah walked back into the kitchen, backwards, her eyes and gun still on Linda. She grabbed a briefcase and opened it on the counter, taking out a small syringe. "Orpheus. I don't suppose you've even been on it?"
"Hell no. Get that crap away from me." Linda tried to recoil.
"I don't think so." Lilah smirked viciously. Lilah stood behind Linda and put the gun down a moment, using one hand to expose the inside of Linda's elbow enough for her to stick the needle in. Lilah was careful. She had to be sure she got it in the right place.
Once the syringe was empty, Lilah tossed it aside.
"You'll start to feel the effects in about...oh, seven minutes. One of the wonderful things about Orpheus, Linda, is that if you don't get yourself bitten by a vampire soon, then the drug starts to really mess with your perception of reality. And of course, if you get a second dose...well, I hear it's an incredibly painful experience. To say the least."
"So...you have oh...eight minutes to tell me everything you know about Lindsey. And, of course, where your safety deposit box key is, what number your box is, and which bank it's for."
"You're insane if you think you can – I'll tell Lindsey. He'll move your mother, at the very least. Or he'll kill her and be done with it." Linda spat.
"Linda, do you really want that second dose? Where is your safety deposit box key?" Lilah retrieved the second syringe, showing it to the other woman.
"My desk. Second drawer down, false bottom." Linda gritted out.
"Good girl." Lilah didn't go to get it yet. "Now, I'm sure there's still stuff in your head that you haven't written down or put on your computer. So, start talking. Tell me everything you know about Lindsey – account numbers, safe-houses, contacts, the words. And talk quickly. If I'm not happy in," Lilah looked at her watch, "the next six minutes, you'll get the second dose."
Linda resisted for all of maybe thirty seconds. But, showing a preference for her life and comfort over loyalty to Lindsey or the firm, Linda was spilling her guts quickly enough. Lilah didn't write any of it down – she would, soon, but she could retain the information for a bit, and she needed her hands free.
At the six minute mark, Lilah could see a slightly glazed look start to form in Linda's eyes, her words trailing off a bit, though the paralegal tried to keep herself on track.
"That's good Linda." Lilah said. "I'll work with this." Lilah walked over towards Linda, walking behind the chair. "Only, there's a problem. See, I can assume that you're not going to tell Lindsey, since he'll probably have you boiled in oil after you gave up so many of his secrets." Lilah undid one of Linda's hands from the cuffs, then the other, unconcerned about any sudden moves by the slowly tripping out paralegal. "On the other hand, that a chance I don't want to take." Lilah placed the syringe in Linda's hand, and the woman started to struggle, realizing what was coming next.
Unfortunately, in her current state, her struggle was largely ineffective. Lilah maneuvered the syringe into place, and then pressed Linda's hand down, injecting the second dose.
"I kind of lied about an overdose. Yes, it's painful. But it's also fatal. I'd say you have a very painful hour to live." Lilah left the syringe in place, and picked up the other one, making sure it got all the right fingerprints on it.
Not like I didn't have to stage a few scenes for clients before. Only when she'd been fairly new in the firm, and didn't have a whole lot of minions, but she still remembered how to get it done, and done right.
"You...lying...bitch." Linda got out slowly, her voice half-airy, half-there and far from focused.
"Pretty much." Lilah agreed. "You did catch my name, right? Lilah?" Smirking, Lilah made her way into Linda's bedroom, to retrieve the safety deposit box key.
Lobby, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles
August 20th, 2001
"Lilah. My office. Now."
There was an...angry note in Wesley's voice, one that she'd not heard from the man before. She'd heard him angry with her, disgusted with her and frustrated with her. Occasionally even impressed with her, when she decided to be useful.
But not quite this level of anger. It wasn't as...appealing as his usual anger. Still quite...interesting, in its own way. Not for the first time, Lilah considered just how odd her tastes when it came to the 'interesting' department were. Not healthy ones, most people would say.
Hell, my choice of career and employer were never healthy things either. I just don't do healthy.
"What's got your knickers in a twist, Wesley?" Lilah asked, deliberately using the British phrasing.
"My office. Now." Wesley said again, grinding the words out.
Putting down her book, Lilah got up and walked from the couch in the center of the lobby around the desk – where Cordelia was reading some sort of magazine – and into Wesley's office. She watched as the Englishman sat down, and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. "Sit."
"So commanding." Lilah said with a smirk. "Has being the boss finally gone to you-"
"Shut up Lilah." Wesley interrupted, his tone barely changed. "Close the door. Then sit."
Looking at Wesley pointedly, and wondering where this side of the man had been hiding all this time, Lilah closed the door, then sat down. Before she could ask him again, what had him all so angry – not that she minded – he was talking again.
"I was at Caritas earlier today, speaking with some contacts. When I heard a most interesting rumor. A employee of Wolfram and Hart was recently found dead in their apartment, of an apparent Orpheus overdose. I don't suppose, Lilah, that you would know anything about that, now would you?" Wesley's hands were on the desk, and was a little to close to a gun for Lilah to feel entirely safe.
"You shouldn't go around believing rumors." Lilah told him, with all the skill of her chosen career. "After all, Wolfram and Hart has a very firm zero tolerance policy, when it comes to Orpeheus users among the employers."
"True enough. But I made some further inquires. It seems that this employee was a paralegal named Linda Reisan, and she worked directly under Lindsey McDonald, even after his recent promotion." Wesley narrowed his eyes, "Would you care to amend your previous statement, counselor?"
"No, not really." Lila said. "If that's all-" Wesley cut her off, his words cutting across her like sharp ice.
"Lilah, you killed that woman. And you used the Orpheus I provided you to do it. You've made me an accessory to murder, in an ethical sense if not a legal one. I don't care what little side projects you direct at Wolfram and Hart, or at Lindsey, but I will not let you leave a trail of bodies behind you." Wesley's hand clenched around the handle of the gun.
"And your solution to this perceived problem is to threaten me with death if I don't fall in line with Heroes Incorporated? News flash, Wesley, I'm evil. And so far, I'm only likely to kill people just as if not more evil than I am. The fun part of going after Lindsey and the Firm. But go ahead, threaten to kill me. So morally pure." Lilah stood. "In the meantime-"
"Sit. Lilah." Wesley told her again. When she didn't comply, Wesley lifted the gun. "I wasn't actually thinking about threatening to kill you. You might still be useful. I was however going to point out that your utility isn't dependent on having both kneecaps intact. Or perhaps an elbow? Which would you prefer."
Despite the chill that passed across her at the threat, Lilah had to laugh. "Damn Wesley. Letting your inner sadist out to play? He's a hell of a lot more fun than the normal you." Then she leaned in, her hands flat on the desk, as if daring him to press the gun against her. "Let me be clear about something, Wesley." Now it was Lilah's turn for her tone to be icy. "Whoever I have to kill to get what I need done to deal with Lindsey's little 'insurance policy', I will kill them. If I have to drown him, or even the entire L.A. Branch in blood, I will. I'd rather not go that far, since its messy and hardly subtle, but I will do whatever I need to do. Now, if you're going to shoot me, go ahead and do it. Because it won't especially matter to me if I keep my life, or my kneecaps if I can't deal with Lindsey eventually." There's only person in this world I actually give a shit about, and I'm not letting her stay in Lindsey's hands.
"I don't care what you want to accomplish, Lilah. Nor am I expecting you to care about the moral consequences of your behavior. But I will not be an accessory to one of your murders again. And if one of these murders of yours comes back on Angel Investigations on any way, I will make sure you pay for it." Wesley took a breath.
"Now get out of my office." He added, "Having you around is decidedly unhealthy and probably not good for my sanity either." He put the gun down.