Chapter 4 - Blood Money
Arthur’s hands dropped, his grin twitching at the corners. The sheer formality of my response was like a slap across his cheek.
"Listen to me, Katherine," he hissed, dropping his voice as several nearby senators glanced our way. "We don't have to air our dirty laundry in the White House. I know we had our differences. I was hard on you. But I was trying to build character! I wanted you to take over the family empire, not run off to play soldier."
"You told me I was dead to you," I reminded him, my voice devoid of inflection. "You called my mother’s family trailer trash. You gave my trust fund to Trevor, and when I was wounded in the Paktika Province in 2008, you refused to accept the call from Walter Reed because you were at a charity gala."
Trevor stepped forward then, his chest puffed out in a pathetic imitation of his father. "Hey, watch your tone with Dad, Kate. He built this company with his bare hands. You think just because you put on some brass and medals you can step all over us? You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the Mercer name!"
I turned my eyes slowly toward Trevor.
He was twenty-eight years old, soft around the jaw, with eyes that carried the dilated glassiness of high-grade cocaine and zero accountability. He had never slept in the dirt. He had never smelled burning cordite or held the hand of an eighteen-year-old kid taking his last breath while arterial blood seeped into the desert sand.
"Trevor," I said softly.
He flinched. The quietness of my voice unnerved him far more than shouting would have.
"Did you read the incident report from the 75th Ranger Regiment regarding Operation Obsidian?" I asked.
Trevor blinked, confused. "What? What are you talking about? I manage global strategy, I don't read tactical field memos."
"You signed off on Component Lot 84-B," I said, stepping half an inch closer. "You certified that the micro-actuators in the Aegis drone wing-assemblies met Tier 1 thermal thresholds. You lied. You knew the components failed heat stress at fifty degrees Celsius."
Trevor’s face drained from pale to completely translucent. "I... that was an engineering variance. It was within legal limits—"
"The temperature on the tarmac at Al Asad last month was fifty-two degrees," I cut in. "The wing assembly locked. The drone fell out of the sky and crushed a Humvee carrying three enlisted mechanics. They survived, but Sergeant First Class Miller will never walk again."
"Katherine!" Arthur cut in, his voice rising in panic. "This is an internal corporate matter! We have insurance for testing anomalies! You have no right to bring classified operations into a personal dispute!"
"It isn't a personal dispute, Arthur," I said. "It’s a federal criminal inquiry."
Evelyn gasped, stepping forward with her manicured finger raised. "How dare you! Trevor is a brilliant executive! You’re just jealous because Arthur chose him! You’ve always been bitter, Katherine. A miserable, unloved little tomboy who couldn't handle that her father wanted a real son!"
Several guests around us turned to stare. The ambient noise in the East Room dropped significantly.
General Vance took a single step forward, towering over Evelyn. "Ma'am, if you raise your voice at a member of the Joint Staff one more time, you will spend the night in the custody of the United States Marshals."
Evelyn snapped her mouth shut, retreating behind Arthur’s shoulder like a frightened lapdog.
Arthur took a deep breath, trying to regain the upper hand. He adjusted his cuff links, his eyes narrowing into cold, predatory slits. "You think you’re untouchable, Katherine? You think four stars make you immune to politics? I know three members of the Senate Armed Services Committee on a first-name basis. I funded their campaigns. By tomorrow morning, I’ll have the Chairman call the Pentagon and remind your superiors where your funding actually comes from."
I looked at Arthur for a long, quiet moment, almost feeling pity for the absolute depth of his delusion.
"Arthur," I said quietly, "who do you think wrote the report that the Senate Armed Services Committee is using to strip your defense clearances?"
Arthur’s smirk vanished.
May you like
"The Chairman didn't invite you here to network," I continued. "He invited you here so you couldn't flee the country before the subpoenas were served."
***
