Petrukov's insistence on a grand entrance had put Kay on edge the moment she heard of the plan and forced her to grab a taxi so as to avoid the crowds. Once there, she toted her gear by hand up to the suite, refusing any help. Doormen and bellmen alike offered to carry her numerous bulky duffle bags, but Kay adamantly refused, even snapping at a young man who made the mistake of trying to be chivalrous anyway. The surly hacker didn't even trust her own employer with her equipment, much less some random shmuck looking to make a quick buck from tips.

It took almost 20 minutes to fully outfit her adjacent living quarters and she still left two bags unpacked; those she left on her bed. From her pocket she retrieved two small pieces of electronic hardware. One she stuck to the door handle on side facing her room. The second she clipped to her waistband before locking her door, double checking the lock, and triple checking the lock was secure. As much as she didn't enjoy the idea of leaving her equipment partially unattended, she couldn't pass up free refreshments.

She somewhat regreted the decision to make her way down to the lobby when she spotted almost the entire election panel (the parts that mattered anyway) all in one place. Her ratty jeans and worn jacket were a bit out of place in a more affluent crowd, but she hoped to fly under the radar even with the worryingly dark circles and heavy bags under her eyes. If there was one thing Kay knew she could count on with politicians, it was how easily they forget people who aren't waving money or loaded guns in their faces. As long as she kept her head down they likely wouldn't notice hired help and leave her to drink horrifically bitter hotel coffee in peace off to the side.