Chapter 12 - The Federal Deposition
Room 412 of the Dirksen Federal Building in Washington, D.C., was lined with dark oak paneling and heavy velvet drapes that blocked out the gray winter sky.
Sitting across the wide conference table was Donald Vance—a sleek, silver-haired sixty-year-old in a custom three-thousand-dollar suit, flanked by three corporate attorneys from a high-priced K Street law firm.
"Director Mercer," Donald Vance began, offering a patronizing, velvet-smooth smile. "While we respect your distinguished military position, Apex Global holds a legally binding financial instrument signed by Arthur Mercer six months prior to his indictment. Business is business. The seventy-million-dollar lien takes precedence over general civil forfeiture."
I sat at the head of the table alongside Assistant U.S. Attorney Helen Vance. I didn't return his smile.
"Your lien was executed under a fraudulent asset-pledge structure, Mr. Vance," Helen Vance stated firmly. "Arthur Mercer lacked legal authority to encumber private trust assets tied to the late Eleanor Mercer's estate."
Donald Vance let out a soft, dismissive laugh. "Arthur Mercer was the sole managing trustee of the Mercer Family Trust. Unless you have proof of active collusion between my firm and Arthur Mercer, Apex Global’s claim stands under international commercial law."
I leaned forward, resting my hands flat on the polished mahogany table.
"Let's talk about active collusion, Mr. Vance," I said softly, my voice carrying a razor-thin precision that made the room fall silent.
Donald Vance’s smug expression faltered slightly.
"On October 14th," I continued, "three hours before Arthur Mercer arrived at the White House East Gate, your offshore server in Zurich logged a five-million-dollar wire transfer from Mercer Tech's secondary escrow account."
Donald Vance’s lead attorney interjected quickly. "That was a standard retainer fee for private consulting—"
"That wire transfer," I interrupted, looking directly into Donald Vance's eyes, "was the down payment for illegal secondary hardware schematics stolen from the Naval Research Laboratory."
Donald Vance went dead quiet. The color slowly drained from his face.
Helen Vance slid a three-page classified audit document across the table.
"The Department of Justice filed an emergency RICO indictment against Apex Global twenty minutes ago," Helen revealed. "Your firm's domestic assets have been frozen, and federal marshals are currently executing a search warrant at your K Street office."
Donald Vance stared at the paper, his hands trembling violently as he realized that his seventy-million-dollar shakedown had just turned into a federal racketeering charge.
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"You have until five o'clock to sign an unconditional waiver of all claims against the Mercer estate," I told him, every word dropping like iron. "Or you will join Arthur Mercer in a federal penitentiary."
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