Besides, it’ll make the whole thing much more fun. She’s planning to do this break-in almost as much for the fun of it as for what she’ll be stealing.
It takes a little longer to find their exact building than she was hoping, though it’s only by a great stroke of luck she knows about them at all. It’s close to midnight when her tracker finally leads her to the right door and she knocks. She hopes someone answers; she doesn’t want to deal with whatever trouble might arise from breaking it down.
Someone does. One of the local woman, of course, thin-faced and in threadbare blouse and skirt, politely asking her what she wants in the local language, because Elektra herself passes for local in this part of the world. They’ll keep the woman who gathered them here hidden.
At least until Elektra calls out in English, “Nakia! I know you’re here, and who you are. I am a survivor of the Chaste, and I have a proposition for you.”
How different she looks from the UN photos Elektra’s seen. She’s dressed to try to make her dark skin less noticeable, and she is very, very grim-faced. She’s identifying herself as Chaste just in case Nakia can track down some record of her (she doubts the Hand kept any on her post-resurrection), but she’s not sure how much Wakanda knows. They’re one of very few countries that neither the Chaste nor the Hand ever had a presence in. Still, the woman’s got to be smart enough to not trust her too much.
She doesn’t even invite her in, but Elektra’s willing to skip that part and lightly push her way in, shoving the door closed behind her. Besides Nakia there are three others in the room; obviously there were more who died. “I know you need to get into a certain building owned by a certain Lakshay Dara. You want data on all his nasty goings-on. He has a little object that I want, nothing you’d care about. I know enough about Wakanda to know you can probably get past his security, but you need someone who can both fight and not attract attention or risk being recognized.”
Nakia’s features have turned more neutral; there’ll be no reading a response off this one. “If we get you in,” she says, “how can I know you will let us have what we want? How do you know we won’t care about your object? And how did you know we were here, even exactly in this apartment?”
“You can’t know, I suppose,” Elektra drawls. “For the record, there’s no vibranium in the object; I know you’re interested in that sometimes. And do you have any other plan that has a serious chance of working within the next week or so? You know what’s likely to happen if you don’t act before then.”
She’d like to avoid answering that last question if she can. Though it probably won’t help; the Wakandans will probably figure out she found a weakness in their Kimoyo beads, and said weakness will probably be gone by this time tomorrow. A pity to lose it, but it served its purpose this time.
Yet Nakia doesn’t repeat the question. Instead she says, “As a member of the Chaste, you probably have learned some things about your foes.”
Elektra can’t hold back her grin. “Oh, I have,” she says. “I infiltrated the Hand, made them think I was their faithful attack dog-until I had beheaded their leader. All five of their final fingers talked freely around me.”
Nakia still looks wary, but she says, “If we do this, I want the information in that building, and I also want everything you know about Sowande. I know he’s dead now, but there’s his actions in Africa and what impact they had, who he worked with, and any groups or organizations he may have left behind there.”
Elektra’s actually a little sorry she doesn’t have more information on that; she’s in favor of anyone hurting those associated with the five people who used her, especially now that the organization and its power are all lost anyway. But she has enough that she says, “If I may sit down?”