Chapter 7 - The Reading of the Will
I stood in the subterranean bunker for three long minutes, my breathing slow, deliberate, and icy. Combat had taught me one fundamental rule of survival: when you discover an ambush, you do not panic, you do not scream, and you do not charge blind into the crossfire. You set your perimeter, identify your primary target, and maneuver to kill.
I downloaded the complete Chimera database onto two separate encrypted flash drives, slipping one into my boot and leaving the other in my dress uniform pocket. Then I powered down the terminal, locked the steel vault, and walked back up through the carriage house toward the main mansion.
The rain was falling heavier now, drumming against the stained-glass windows of the grand salon where the formal reading of the will had been scheduled for noon.
When I entered the room, the atmosphere had shifted. Arthur was standing near the grand fireplace, a glass of bourbon in his uninjured hand, speaking in hushed, urgent tones with Julian and the family’s head corporate attorney, Harold Sterling.
Sterling was an oily, sixty-year-old partner at a white-shoe firm who had spent thirty years burying Arthur’s corporate skeletons.
"Ah, the prodigal daughter returns," Arthur announced loudly as I stepped into the room, drawing the attention of the remaining family members, executives, and high-ranking guests. His voice was overly loud, trying to project dominance to cover the fear that lingered in his eyes. "Took a little walk in the rain to cool off, Colonel?"
Julian sneered, regaining his courage now that they were surrounded by their security guards and lawyers. "Hope you enjoyed your little show with Holloway, Clarissa. Sterling has the official copies of the will. Grandpa's estate is governed by the Vance Family Trust of 1998. Uniforms don't override legal contracts."
Sterling cleared his throat, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses and opening a thick leather binder on the central conference table. "Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. As General Vance’s designated legal representative, I have been instructed to execute the division of assets."
I didn't sit. I stood at the back of the room, my arms crossed, watching them like targets in a crosshair.
"Under the previous provisions of the Vance Trust," Sterling began in a dry, authoritative drone, "Arthur Vance was designated seventy percent voting control of Vance Industries, with fifteen percent allocated to Julian Vance, and five percent set aside in a non-voting blind trust for Clarissa Vance."
Julian smirked in my direction, leaning back in his chair with smug satisfaction. "Five percent non-voting. That should buy you plenty of gauze, sister."
"However," Sterling continued, his voice suddenly faltering as he turned the page. He stopped. His eyes widened behind his glasses. He blinked, swallowed hard, and looked up at Arthur with a face that had drained entirely of color.
"What is it, Harold?" Arthur snapped. "Read the rest."
"Arthur... there is an addendum," Sterling whispered.
"What addendum? The trust was irrevocable!"
"It was irrevocable except under Section 12," Sterling stammered, his hands visibly shaking as he held the paper. "The National Security and Military Service Contingency Clause. Enacted by General Vance sixty days ago, co-signed by the Judge Advocate General's Corps."
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Sterling looked directly at me, his voice trembling so badly the paper rustled in his grip.
"The entire fifty-one percent controlling interest in Vance Industries, along with the family estate, all offshore holdings, and the General’s voting proxy on the defense consortium... have been transferred immediately and irrevocably to Colonel Clarissa Vance."
