Monday morning I'm at Blackwood Security's downtown office before Brandon arrives, already reviewing perimeter security reports and apartment listings for Lana's eventual move out of the safe house. The temporary arrangement has served its purpose, but she needs a permanent residence with infrastructure that can't be penetrated the way her old building was.
Brandon walks in at seven-thirty carrying two cups of coffee and the efficient demeanor of someone ready to coordinate logistics. "Morning. I have updates on the apartment options."
"Good. What are we looking at?" I take the coffee he offers.
"Three properties in The Crest, all available for immediate occupancy." He pulls up listings on his tablet. "High-rise with controlled access, twenty-four-hour concierge, security cameras in all common areas. Each unit has been vetted for vulnerability assessment—no fire escape access, reinforced entry points, buildings with strict visitor protocols."
I study each listing, mentally cataloging what additional security I'd need to install. "Send me the addresses. I'll conduct site assessments this week, determine which property offers the best protection."
"Will do. Also, perimeter security around the safe house remains solid. No suspicious activity, no signs of Trask or anyone else conducting surveillance." He's typing notes as he speaks. "Derek, Marcus and Andre are maintaining rotation without issues."
"Good. Keep that protocol through Wednesday. After Lana's meeting with Ezra, we'll reassess the threat level and determine next steps." I'm already thinking about Wednesday's plans—who's in the room, what backup positioning looks like.
"Understood. Anything else you need from our end?" Brandon asks.
"Just maintain current protocols. I'll let you know if Wednesday changes anything." We spend another twenty minutes reviewing security details before I head to The Dominion for a meeting Lucien arranged with Julian Ashford.
Lucien is waiting in his private office when I arrive, Julian sitting across from him with the particular tension of someone who's been carrying weight too long. The introductions are brief—Lucien has already explained my role, already established that Julian needs to share intelligence that could keep both him and Lana alive.
"Thank you for meeting with me," Julian says, which feels oddly formal given the circumstances. "Lucien said you're coordinating Lana Pope's security for Wednesday's meeting with Ezra."
"I am. And I need to understand what we're actually walking into." I settle into the chair beside him, skipping diplomatic phrasing. "We know Ezra's joint investment claim is pretext. We know The Glasshouse is involved. What I need from you is operational detail—how they think, what they're looking for, how to make sure Wednesday ends with Lana staying alive."
Julian pulls out his phone, shows me documents I recognize as Glasshouse operational protocols. "Gabriel threatened to expose specific operations—not just financial networks, but actual operational methods. Names of people involved, jurisdictions they operate in, techniques they use forlaundering and political influence. He had evidence beyond just transaction records. He knew how the organization actually functions."
The confirmation settles into place. We suspected Gabriel had dangerous knowledge, but hearing it from someone inside the organization gives it different weight. "That's why they couldn't let him keep pushing to leave. He wasn't just threatening to expose money—he was threatening to expose infrastructure."
"Exactly. And when he died, they panicked that his files contained operational details they can't afford public." Julian swipes to another document. "Wednesday's meeting isn't just assessing what Lana knows. They have specific protocols for evaluation."
"What protocols?" I'm leaning forward now, mentally noting details that will determine Wednesday's strategy.
"They watch for behavioral tells— the difference between genuine ignorance and performed ignorance. They ask seemingly innocuous questions designed to reveal knowledge gaps." He's pulling up more files. "For instance, if they mention a company name Gabriel was involved with, they watch how Lana responds. Real ignorance means she doesn't recognize it at all. Performed ignorance means she recognizes it but pretends not to—micro-expressions give that away."
This is new intelligence. Actionable detail about how they actually assess. "So she can't just perform helplessness. She has to genuinely not understand what they're referencing."
"Correct. Which means you need to prepare her for questions she won't expect, teach her to respond naturally rather than strategically." Julian's hands are shaking slightly despite his professional delivery. "They won’t ask in obvious ways, giventhe angle they’re coming from, but they'll test her. Possibly ask about shell corporations, financial structures, communication channels. She needs to appear confused rather than evasive."
"What else?" I'm already building a mental framework for how to brief Lana without overwhelming her.
"Timing. They need resolution now—not next month, not after legal proceedings drag out. Ezra's campaign has filing deadlines in two weeks. If this isn't resolved by then, his political viability collapses and they lose their candidate." Julian's expression shows genuine fear underneath the tactical briefing. "That urgency makes Wednesday more dangerous. They can't afford to wait for better intelligence. They have to decide Wednesday whether she's containable or not."
The timeline pressure explains why Ezra suddenly came back with the joint investment claim after dropping the estate case. Someone's forcing his hand, demanding he secure access or confirmation before his political window closes.
"And if they decide she's not containable?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
"Then elimination becomes the simplest solution. But here's what you need to understand—they prefer not to eliminate when other options exist. Murder creates investigation, attention, variables they can't fully control." He's leaning forward now, urgency bleeding through professional distance. "Make her not worth the risk. Prove she's ignorant, that she inherited money but not intelligence. Show that killing her creates more problems than leaving her alone."
It's the same strategy we've been building, but Julian's adding specifics about how to actually execute.
Now I have specific protocols they'll use, behavioral tells they're watching for, timeline pressure forcing urgency. Theabstract threat has become concrete operational intelligence I can actually use.
I drive back to The Gateway with strategy forming around Julian's details. When I reach the safe house, Lana is at the dining table with her laptop open, probably working on foundation business or reviewing Solange's decoded files.
She looks up when I enter, and closes the laptop immediately. "How did it go with Julian?"
"Productive. He provided operational intelligence about Wednesday—how The Glasshouse actually assesses threats, what they're looking for, how to make sure you come across as genuinely ignorant rather than strategically evasive." I sit across from her, pulling out my phone to show her the notes I took. "We need to refine your approach based on what he told me."
"Tell me." She's already focused, thankfully going into processing mode rather than fear mode.
