Chapter 4 - The Golden Contract on the Line
Arthur Mercer swayed on his feet for a fraction of a second, his knuckles whitening as he grabbed the edge of a nearby cocktail table to steady himself.
Fourteen billion dollars.
Mercer Defense Tech had levered itself to the absolute brink to develop the Aegis Horizon network. Arthur had taken out massive credit lines, shorted his own commercial subsidiaries, and bet the entire legacy of his empire on winning this single Department of Defense contract. If Mercer Tech won it, they would become an untouchable defense titan for the next thirty years.
If they lost it, the margin calls would hit within ninety days. The banks would carve the company like a roasted turkey, and Arthur would spend his golden years facing bankruptcy, shareholder lawsuits, and public humiliation.
And standing between him and the contract was the daughter he had erased from his life.
“Kate,” Arthur’s voice changed completely. The hostility vanished, replaced by an oily, desperate warmth that turned my stomach. “Kate, sweetheart. Look, we had our disagreements. I was harsh with you back then. I admit it! I was angry. I wanted you close, I wanted you to take over the family legacy, and when you chose the military, I felt abandoned. Can you blame a father for reacting out of hurt?”
I looked at him with sheer incredulity. The revisionist history was breathtaking.
“You didn't react out of hurt, Arthur. You reacted out of wounded pride. You couldn't control me, so you tried to break me.”
“I was wrong!” Arthur blurted, loud enough that a French diplomat nearby glanced over. Arthur quickly dropped his voice, leaning closer, sweating through his silver hair. “I was wrong, Kate. But look at you now! Look at what you’ve accomplished! You’re a Mercer through and through. That discipline, that fire—you got that from me!”
“Don't flatter yourself,” I said. “I got my discipline from drill sergeants at Fort Moore and men who died beside me in Helmand Province. I got nothing from you except the lesson of what kind of human being I never wanted to become.”
Trevor stepped up beside his father, trying to muster some of the bravado he used in boardrooms where everyone was on his payroll. “Listen, Kate—or Colonel, whatever you want to be called. We’re family. Blood is blood. Mercer Tech’s system is the best on the market. If you sign off on the Aegis bid tonight, everybody wins. Dad can set up a trust in your name. We can restore your stock allocation! You’d be looking at hundreds of millions of dollars the second the announcement is made.”
I stopped. I turned my head slowly to look Trevor straight in the eye.
“Trevor,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “did you just attempt to bribe a senior active-duty officer of the United States Armed Forces inside the White House?”
Trevor choked on his words, his face flushing crimson. “No! No, that's not—it's a family estate distribution! It's not a bribe!”
“If you speak another word to me about contracts, money, or stock,” I told him, “I will have the military police stationed outside this room escort you to the D.C. Federal Detention Center for attempting to corrupt a federal procurement process. Do you understand me?”
Trevor backed up so quickly he bumped into Evelyn, who let out a muffled gasp of indignation.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Evelyn hissed, her venom breaking through her terrified facade. “You ungrateful little brat! Your father gave you the finest childhood money could buy, and you come back here wearing that costume, acting like you're God Almighty! You want to destroy your own family out of spite!”
“Evelyn, shut up!” Arthur roared under his breath, turning on his wife with genuine terror in his eyes. “Shut your mouth!”
He turned back to me, his hands actually trembling now. “Kate, please. Look at me. We don't have to air our dirty laundry here. I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But Mercer Tech provides jobs for twenty thousand Americans. If we don't get Aegis, those plants close. People lose their livelihoods. Think about the big picture. Think about the mission!”
“The mission?” I shook my head, disgusted. “You don't care about those twenty thousand workers, Arthur. You care about your name on the marquee. You care about your private jet and your Greenwich estate.”
Before Arthur could counter, the heavy oak doors near the front of the room swung open.
A crisp, commanding voice echoed across the hall: “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”
May you like
The entire room turned toward the podium. Arthur froze, his breath hitching, trapped between the conversation he couldn't win and the ceremonial display he couldn't escape.
***
