Chapter 52 – Planning the Heist
by Kleo Erili“You hacked into Ben’s system?”
Morgan raised both hands. “Tried. I tried to hack into his system.”
Chloe stared at her. She sat on Morgan’s worn-out sofa, her legs tucked under her. Morgan’s notepad and two now-empty coffee cups were on the coffee table between them.
“It didn’t work.” Morgan leaned back in her desk chair and ran both hands through her short dark hair. “And I failed. Miserably, if I’m honest.”
“How miserably?”
“Four days wasted miserable. Four days in which I tried everything I could and everything my contact suggested.” Morgan shook her head. “Ben is a porn talent agent and, all in all, gives the impression that his best years are behind him. He should have a password consisting of his date of birth or something like that. Instead, he has network security that reminds me more of a small investment bank.”
“Why?” Chloe said quietly.
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“So he has something on his computer that justifies that kind of security. But what?”
“That’s exactly it,” Morgan said, pointing his finger at her, “that’s the right question.”
They both thought for a moment about what that might mean. Then Morgan leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.
“I can’t get in remotely. So we need physical access.”
“I’m in his office from time to time. But then what? I can’t hack.”
“You don’t have to!” Morgan took out her phone and started texting someone. “I know someone who can lend me an automatic drive cloner. It’s a relatively small gadget, looks a bit like a power bank. You just plug it into the computer, and it copies everything on it in fifteen to twenty minutes, depending on how much stuff is on the hard drive.”
“And how exactly am I supposed to spend fifteen to twenty minutes alone with his laptop? He won’t just leave me unattended in his office. When I’m there, he’s there too.”
“Is there any upcoming appointment? Anything where you would be in his office and there’s at least the possibility of him leaving the room briefly?”
Chloe thought about it. There indeed was an opportunity.
“The website. He said he wants to show me the prototype as soon as it’s ready. I could ask him about that.”
Morgan nodded slowly. “Good. And then we need a distraction that will get him out of the office long enough.”
She rummaged through one of her desk drawers and placed a small device on the table. It looked like a remote control with a few extra buttons.
“This thing can mess with a car’s electronics. Set off the alarm, turn on the lights, the whole shebang. I’ll be outside, you’ll be inside. Ten minutes after you go in, I’ll set off the alarm on his car and mess with all the electronics. He’ll run downstairs, you plug this thing into his laptop, and if all goes well, we’ll have fifteen to twenty minutes.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow. “And where exactly did a Valley City Times reporter get a device like that?”
“A good journalist has many contacts among shady characters.” Morgan smiled mischievously. “This thing is really handy when you need to distract people. It’s served me well.”
Chloe took her phone out of her pocket and opened her messages. She typed a message to Ben.
She showed Morgan the display. Morgan read it and nodded.
“Friday.”
“Friday.”
Morgan leaned back and crossed her arms. Her expression had become serious, the playful energy from earlier gone.
“Chloe, I want to be honest with you. This is risky. If anything goes wrong, if he catches you, if he sees the device, that could be really bad.” Morgan looked her straight in the eyes. “You can back out at any time. Even on Friday. Even in his office. We can think of something else.”
Chloe looked back at her. Morgan’s eyes were warm but concerned, and it was real concern, not feigned or obligatory. Morgan was genuinely worried about her.
“I’m not backing out,” Chloe said. “If there’s even the slightest chance we’ll find something on his laptop that will help us, I’m doing it. Besides, it’s probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me this week.”
Morgan snorted with amusement. “Would have thought your job was exciting enough.”
“Most of the week I’m bored out of my mind in a one-room apartment. There’s maybe an hour of action in my job on the days I’m shooting,” Chloe said with a wry grin. “If they last that long.”
Morgan shook her head, but the hint of a smile gave her away.
“The game’s afoot, then,” she said.
“Yup.” Chloe confirmed.
~
The week was relatively busy.
On Tuesday, she filmed for Erotica Kings in a studio in the north of the Hub that, both inside and out, was hardly any different from the others. White walls, professional lighting, a director dude with a headset and clipboard who solemnly explained to her before filming that he expected dedication from his performers.
Chloe smiled, nodded and delivered dedication.
The directions came as usual. “Head to the left. Legs higher. Moan louder. Look at the camera. No, the other camera.” Her body now knew what to do before her head had processed it. Muscle memory, trained reflexes by now, like an athlete who has mastered her routine and can it do in her sleep now. Her co-star was nice and did such wonderful things with his tongue that she was disappointed there was so little time allocated for oral sex.
When the director said after the shoot that she was a natural, she thanked him politely.
Wednesday was Tight Delight. A smaller studio, tighter spaces, fewer staff. The dressing room was also the break room and the place where props and costumes were stored, so you had to be careful not to trip over stuff when you took your clothes off.
At least they had a separate makeup room. The makeup artist was an older, somewhat dangerous-looking wiry guy with three-day stubble and a wild collection of tattoos that looked like he had collected them over several decades. He was also about as straight as a corkscrew.
While applying her makeup, he told her that his daughter had just started college.
“What is she studying?”
“Psychology, here at UCVC.” He shrugged. “She says she wants to help people. I always tell her that if she really wants to help people, she should become a makeup artist like her old man. Nothing lifts the spirits like good concealer.”
Chloe laughed.
The cameraman was the same freelancer she had seen at Sinful Stepsisters and Gangbang Galore, and he greeted her with a casual “Hey, Chloe!” as if she were a colleague showing up for the early shift.
And that’s exactly how it felt. Early shift. Clock in, clothes off, work, clothes on, clock out. Only sometimes with an orgasm or two in between.
But in the evenings, alone in her apartment, things were a little bit different.
She tried to watch a movie. She made it twenty minutes before realizing she had no idea what it was about. She tried to make something to eat, but the ramen was all gone. Too lazy to go shopping, she ate a bowl of cornflakes instead. She tried to go through her investigation notes, but the letters swam before her eyes and her thoughts kept returning to…
Friday.
On Thursday evening, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling while outside the usual nightly concert of shouting, sirens, horns, and muffled basslines played. Her pulse was faster than it should have been.
You had sex with two strangers in front of cameras this week, and it wasn’t even worth a tired yawn for you. But actually doing something for the investigation is keeping you awake. Get a grip, Chloe.
The thing was, on set there was an agreed schedule. On set there was a director who called “cut” when something went wrong. On set there were rules, agreements, boundaries that were set in advance, and when she said “stop,” it did stop. Even in the toughest scenes, there was always a safety net.
Friday had no safety net. Friday had no script and no cut. Friday was frighteningly real.
She turned on her side and closed her eyes.
Please, I need a clear head tomorrow.
Sleep came eventually, reluctantly and shallowly, and when the alarm rang on Friday morning, it felt like she had spent the whole night just pretending to sleep.
When Chloe arrived an hour and a half later at the anonymous coffee shop chain near Ben’s office where they had agreed to meet, Morgan was already sitting at a table in the back corner with a small black bag on the table in front of her. Next to the bag was a half-empty coffee.
Chloe sat down across from her and placed her purse on the empty chair next to her.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Morgan looked her over. “How are you?”
“Nervous,” Chloe said. “But ready.”
“Nervous is good. Nervous means you’re taking it seriously.”
“Then maybe I’d like to take it a little less seriously.”
Morgan smiled briefly, but her eyes remained alert. She pushed the bag across the table. “Here.”
Chloe unzipped it. Inside was the device. It was sleek, black, about the size of a thick power bank, with a single USB port and a short cable. There was a small LED on the side.
“This is how it works,” Morgan said, leaning forward. “You plug it into the USB port of his laptop. The LED flashes while it’s copying. When it stops flashing and stays green, it’s done. Fifteen to twenty minutes, ideally.”
“What if I have to unplug it before that?”
“Then we’ll have what was copied up to that point. Better than nothing, but not ideal, of course. But when in doubt, it’s better to pull it out than get caught.”
Chloe picked up the device. It was heavier than it looked. Or maybe she was just imagining it.
“Stay calm,” Morgan said. “Act normal. He mustn’t suspect anything, I don’t want to you-“
“Morgan.” Chloe looked at her. “I know. I’m good at pretending everything is wonderful. That’s basically my job description.”
Morgan closed her mouth. For a moment, there was something in her gaze that looked like a mixture of concern and guilt, as if she were sending Chloe into something she maybe wouldn’t be able to get her out of. And basically, that was true, after all.
“I mean it,” Morgan said more quietly. “You can still back out now. Even when you’re standing at his door. There’s no pressure. Please don’t feel pressured.”
“You’re not pressuring me. We decided this together,” Chloe said. “This is about Sam. I’m doing this.”
Morgan nodded slowly. “Okay. Afterwards, at my place.”
“Afterwards at your place.”
Chloe slipped the device into her purse, next to her keys, cell phone, and lipstick. It lay there like a strange alien artifact among her harmless everyday stuff.
She stood up.
“Chloe.”
She turned around.
Morgan took a breath to say something, but then just shook her head and said something else: “Stay safe.”
“I will.”
Chloe walked the three blocks to Ben’s office wearing a short denim miniskirt, low-cut white top, the new sunglasses she had treated herself to recently. Chloe Heart on her way to a business meeting with her agent. Nothing unusual or suspicious at all.
Only in her bag was the suspicious device, heavy as a rock. Her heart beat faster as she turned the last corner and Ben’s building came into view.
Just stay calm. Calm and normal. It’s just a meeting. You’re Chloe Heart and you’re excited about your new website.
Maven’s gaze lifted from her screen as Chloe walked through the door and lingered on her mouth.
“Oh my God, where did you get that lipstick? It’s amazing!”
Chloe stopped. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her handbag.
“What? The one I’m wearing?” She smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing special, it wasn’t expensive. I can send you the link to their online store later if you want.”
“Yes, please! The color is so good. It looks great on you.” Maven leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been looking for a shade like this forever. Maybe a little darker, but something like that, you know?”
“Sure, take a look around there, they have a great selection.”
Maven nodded contentedly and nodded toward Ben’s office. “He’s really excited about the website.”
“Me too!” said Chloe with just the right amount of enthusiasm.
Stay cool. This is a normal appointment. Completely normal.
She knocked on Ben’s door and entered.
Ben was sitting behind his desk, his laptop open and turned toward her, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. When he saw her, a grin spread across his face, somewhere between proud father and used car salesman.
“Come in, come in, sit down.”
Chloe sat down on the chair in front of his desk and put her bag on the floor next to her. Under the chair, where she could keep an eye on it.
“So,” Ben said, rubbing his hands together. “Are you ready to see your future?”
“I can’t wait!”
He turned the laptop toward her and leaned back with his arms crossed, visibly pleased with himself.
Chloe looked at the screen.
ChloeHeart.com
The first thing she saw was her own face. One of Julian’s promo photos, warmly lit, her gaze directly into the camera, a half-smile on her lips. The header was elegant but not sterile. The font was modern without trying too hard to be hip. A nice balance. Below that was a gallery with more photos, an area for exclusive content behind a paywall, a merchandising section that was currently filled with placeholders, and a blog area.
It was actually pretty impressive.
“Here,” Ben leaned forward and scrolled. “This is where the fan interaction takes place. There’s a comment function under the posts, but it’s moderated so no trash gets through. Maven takes care of that. Direct messages are only available to premium subscribers, but don’t worry. If it gets too much, we’ll hire a few contractors to answer them. And here,” he clicked on a tab, “is where the merchandising goes. We can sell all kinds of things there, from signed posters to worn panties.”
Chloe nodded and asked the right questions. How does payment processing work? What subscription levels are there? Could she adjust the prices herself?
Ben answered in detail and enthusiastically, visibly proud to present his work to her, and Chloe listened and took note of the relevant details because it was indeed actually important. This was her business. It was really her future. At least financially.
But her gaze kept wandering down to the bag.
The minutes stretched out. Ten minutes since she arrived. Maybe fifteen.
When, Morgan?
Ben was explaining search engine optimization – “So that people automatically find you when they search for certain, um, categories and keywords” – when her phone vibrated in her bag.
Chloe discreetly reached in and glanced at the display while pointing at the screen with her other hand and asking, “And what about the mobile version? A lot of people only use their phones these days.”
Her heart raced. She placed the phone on her thigh, screen down.
Ben continued talking, explaining things about mobile responsiveness that she barely understood, and Chloe nodded and smiled and said, “Wow, I didn’t know any of that,” while her fingers clutched the phone case under the table.
She didn’t know exactly when Morgan would sound the alarm. Morgan had said she would give Chloe some time to get into position. But what exactly did that mean? What-
The office door opened and Maven stood in the doorway.
“Sorry, Ben, but there’s something wrong with your car. The alarm’s been going on and off for a minute and the lights are flashing like crazy.”
Ben stared at her. “What?”
“Your car. Outside. The alarm.” Maven shrugged. “I thought you might want to know before the neighbors complain.”
“Damn it.” Ben pushed back his chair and stood up. “Last week the window regulator got stuck! That car was much too expensive for the electronics to go haywire already. Sorry, Sunshine, I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed his keys from the desk and stormed out of the office. Chloe heard his quick footsteps in the hallway, then on the stairs, then no more.
Now.
Her hands weren’t shaking. Not yet. Maybe because there was no time for that right now.
She bent down, opened her bag, and took out the device, walked around the desk, found the USB port on the side of the laptop, and plugged it in.
The LED flashed yellow. Rhythmically.
Fifteen to twenty minutes.
Chloe exhaled. She walked back to her chair, sat down, placed her hands in her lap, and tried to look like she was just patiently waiting for her agent to return and perhaps browsing the website in the meantime.
Through the closed window, she heard the muffled sound of a car alarm and a horn blaring at irregular intervals. Then Ben’s voice, cursing loudly.
She let her gaze wander around the office because she needed to look somewhere other than at the flashing LED. There were piles of paper on the desk. Contracts, release forms with stamped signatures, performer sheets with names, some of which she recognized. Next to the laptop was an empty coffee cup that had left a brown ring on the tabletop. A framed photo of Ben, significantly younger and slimmer, next to an older man in a Hawaiian shirt, both grinning.
She looked back at the laptop screen and the website. She might as well take a closer look while she was stuck here.
There was something clever about the design. Something she only really noticed now that she could look at it in peace without Ben’s constant commentary. The photos, the color palette, the font, even the way the navigation was set up-it all said Girl Next Door. Not the aggressive, in-your-face eroticism that many sites used, but something more subtle. Like your best friend’s sister, the one you always secretly stared at and who was so far out of your league that you would never have dared to talk to her. And now, for twenty bucks a month, you could watch her take her clothes off.
Ben really captured my brand exactly, the bastard.
The minutes crawled by. One. Two. Three.
The car alarm outside had stopped.
Chloe reached for her phone and looked at the clock. What was going on? It hadn’t even been five minutes?
Then, from the stairwell, footsteps. Quick footsteps that grew louder.
Her cell phone vibrated. She looked at the display.
Chloe’s heart stopped.
No. No, no, no.
There they were, Ben’s footsteps in the hallway. Right outside the door. She heard him say something to Maven, his voice sounding annoyed. “Gotta take it to the shop on Monday. Stupid shit.”
She turned around and looked at the LED. Flashing yellow. Not done yet. Not even close to done.
Leave? Take what we have? But it’s not enough, we don’t even have half, we-
The door handle moved.
In the next two seconds, everything happened at once: Chloe made a decision, her stomach clenched painfully, and Chloe Heart took control of the steering wheel.
OMG the cliffhanger! My heart raced ngl, tftc!
I love hearing that!