“In nineteen-eighty-four, Arthur,” Judge Mercer said, her voice dropping forty decibels of pure, un-forgiving Maine iron:
“My brother, Admiral Arthur Mercer, and your brother Ethan recognized that your branch of the family was preparing to privatize the nation’s defense infrastructure.”
“They didn’t just investigate it.”
“They built the corporate vessel.”
“They incorporated The Valkyrie Holding Corp under Title Fifty National Security Secrecy.”
“Under Clause Fourteen of the Master Founding Codicil…”
Judge Mercer slammed her cane onto the granite table:
KABOOOOM.
“…ANY ASSET, ANY DIVERTED CONTRACT, AND ANY SEDITIOUS EQUITY FUNNELED THROUGH VALKYRIE BY ANY COLLATERAL FIDUCIARY…
REVERTS IN ABSOLUTE FEE SIMPLE UNTO THE SOLE SURVIVING DIRECT LINEAL HEIRS OF ARTHUR MERCER SENIOR.”
“Unto Colonel Clara Eleanor Mercer.”
“And her seventeen-year-old daughter, Willa Eleanor Mercer.”
“The girl you left with a mother scrubbing floors for eight years while your family calculated her inheritance.”
