Chapter 11

Ilana felt around the wall for a soft edge before she pushed her knife in. She pulled herself up, hooking her left leg on the pipe clip attached to the drainage pipe that ran along the back wall.

Once you built the momentum, climbing wasn’t hard. Just one foot after the other. It took a lot of strength but in the end, it was just like walking. Ilana pulled the dagger free and then hooked it into the next purchase she found. She pulled herself up, using the pipe clips to give her some sort of support.

She wasn’t even out of breath by the time she reached the window but her palms were red and aching slightly. She put her body weight forward, leaning against the wall as she pulled the lockpicks from her pocket.

Lockpicking needed both her hands. She pulled in a breath and tried to stay as still as possible, her chest pressed against the wall. 

She played with the lock, her fingers working delicately. The lock gave away and she hefted the small window in, pulling herself over the ledge and into the room with eerie silence.

It was a small bedroom, mostly dark but some light shone through the window, illuminating chunks of the room. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark before she was able to make out the lump on the bed, a thin sheet pulled up to his chest.

She locked the window and pulled the curtains back exactly like they were before. Then she slowly opened the door and slipped outside, silently running down the stairs.

She stopped in front of the front door, undoing the chains and picking the extra locks. She yanked the door open and pulled the boy inside, pointing towards the couch and putting her fingers to her lips, commanding him to stay silent.

She ran back towards the room she’d left and slipped inside. She was going to charge Helene extra for the hassle she’d stuck Ilana with.

She crept closer to the sleeping figure and nudged him harshly, forcing him to wake up.

He came by groggily, looking up at Ilana without understanding the situation.

“Get up. Pick a weapon. Anything you like. Go on,” she said, pressing the tip of her knife against the man’s throat.

The first time she’d had the misfortune of coming across a sleeping target, she’d slit his throat in his bed and then afterwards, she’d had wild panic attacks where she hadn’t been able to breathe for hours and she had spent four consecutive nights dry heaving in the bathroom.

She hadn’t told anyone. There never had been anyone to talk to about these things back at headquarters and she was still fairly new. She was surrounded by killers who seemed comfortable doing what she’d done and she couldn’t go crying to any of them. She was too scared of being deposited back on the cold, dark streets.

The second time she’d found herself in the same predicament, she’d woken the target up and recounted his crimes. Gave him a chance to fight. She had ended up bruised and bleeding and the house had been a mess. Clear signs of struggle, too hard to clean off the pieces of DNA she’d left behind.

Helene had sent a crew to clean and put the place back together as best as they could before the authorities flooded the place.

She had also given Ilana a heavily worded lecture but that was alright. That kill had been better than the last one.

Vincent found her afterwards and he’d coaxed the story out of her. He encouraged her and told her to do anything it took to keep her humanity alive while on jobs.

So, that’s exactly what she had done. If she ever came across a sleeping target, she’d wake them and fight them. She got better after every fight. She returned with less bruises. And she took the details to mind so she could put the area back together once she was done. Leave nothing that can be linked to her.

It made the killings better. To know she was avenging something meaningful and that she hadn’t turned into a monster completely. She was being paid for it, of course, but these people had it coming.

The man blinked stupidly at her before he finally realized what was happening.

His eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, slipping out the bed and falling on his ass. Ilana stood patiently, waiting for him to get his bearings back.

He grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and held it as a knife, trying to mirror her stance. She lunged forward and he dodged, falling to his side. She pressed her foot on his chest, strong enough to keep him in place but not enough to break the ribs.

“You’re to answer for the murders of the Roberston family. Do you accept these charges?” she asked and the man blinked, taken by surprise.

“The Robertson family?” 

She pressed her foot down harder and he yelped, trying to squirm out from under her hold.

“Did you or did you not murder the entire family while they slept peacefully in their homes at night?” 

“You’ll regret this. I have powerful people backing me. You won’t get away with this,” he whimpered, trying to yank her foot away.

“Oh, I know all about the powerful people behind you. That’s why you weren’t arrested despite all the proof they had about you and your friends, right?”

“We won’t be arrested. You’ll regret this,” he said, his voice weak.

“Not me. You are the one who’s going to regret,” she said softly, crouching next to him. “You and your friends would wish you were sitting in a comfortable jail cell somewhere once I’m done with you.”

He whimpered as she bought her knee to press against his windpipe.

“No, no. You don’t understand.”

“Did you or did you not kill the family?” she asked, dragging her blade across the length of his bare arm.

He yelled and she immediately pressed a gloved palm to his mouth, shushing him softly.

“It’s a simple question. Yes or no?” she asked, watching the ribbon of blood trickle down his skin and onto the carpet.

“They… they stole from us. They had it coming,” he whimpered.

“You murder them for stealing. Even the little kids? Did they steal from you too?” 

“Yes. And the kids were innocent but they paid for the crimes of their stupid parents.”

She sighed before she ran the knife across his throat in one slick motion.

She sighed before she ran the knife across his throat in one slick motion.