"He has zero percent of this company, Beatrice," I told her. "And as of two o'clock today, the lease on your luxury apartment in Hoboken—which Pierce Aero has been paying as an executive housing stipend for four years—has been terminated for cause. You have forty-eight hours to vacate the premises."
Beatrice let out a horrified, strangled gasp. "You wouldn't dare! That is my home!"
"It is a corporate asset," I said. "And I am done subsidizing the Pierce family's delusions of royalty. Have a good afternoon."
I ended the call and blocked the number.
Arthur Vance’s phone chimed immediately afterward.
He picked it up, listened for five seconds, and his expression turned grave.
"We need to get back to Teterboro right now, Vivian," Arthur said, rising from his chair.
"What happened?"
"Nora just called from the security gate," Arthur said, grabbing his overcoat. "A commercial box truck just backed up to the private maintenance hangar on the north apron. Camden and Lila arrived in a rented SUV with four private security guards. They’re trying to breach the secure engineering storage facility."
We reached Teterboro in thirty-five minutes, our car speeding through the security gate under the flashing yellow beacons of the airport police.
The north hangar was flooded with harsh halogen work lights.
Parked directly outside the double steel doors of the avionics annex was a twenty-foot unmarked commercial moving truck.
Two private security guards in black tactical vests stood near the loading ramp, while Camden stood on the concrete landing, wearing a windbreaker, shouting instructions at two men who were wheeling a heavy, padlocked steel flight-recorder cabinet toward the truck.
Lila Monroe stood near the rented SUV, smoking a cigarette with trembling fingers, her eyes darting nervously toward the runway perimeter.
"Camden!" I called out, stepping out of our vehicle into the freezing autumn wind.
Camden spun around, his eyes wild, bloodshot, and frantic.
He looked completely unhinged, the polished corporate executive stripped away to reveal a desperate, cornered thief.
"Stay back, Vivian!" Camden yelled, pointing a heavy steel crowbar toward me. "This equipment belongs to the regional charter partnership! The proprietary navigation modules and avionics test benches were purchased under my operating budget!"
"Those avionics benches contain classified navigation encryption software licensed exclusively to Pierce Aero by the Department of Defense," Arthur Vance shouted, holding up his phone. "If you move that hardware six inches off this property, you are committing a federal felony under the National Security Act!"
Camden laughed, a ragged, manic sound that made his own hired movers freeze on the ramp.
"I don't give a damn about your defense contracts!" Camden roared, stepping toward the truck. "Helios has buyers in Singapore who will pay two million dollars for these algorithmic guidance units! You took my credit! You took my name off the hangar! I am leaving this country tonight, and you are not getting a single dime of this hardware back!"
He lunged toward the movers, grabbing the handle of the avionics cabinet to shove it up the ramp.
Before the wheels could touch the metal ramp, the deafening scream of a federal siren shattered the night.
Four dark blue tactical utility vehicles from the Federal Bureau of Investigation tore around the corner of the hangar, braking hard to form a complete, impenetrable barricade around the moving truck and the rented SUV.
Chapter 8 - The Sealed Wiretap Transcripts That Put Camden And Lila In Federal Handcuffs Forever
Ten armed federal agents wearing tactical body armor and high-visibility jackets labeled FBI: CRITICAL INCIDENT RESPONSE GROUP leaped from the vehicles, their semi-automatic carbines raised in low-ready positions.
"Federal agents! Drop the weapon and step away from the vehicle!" Special Agent David Miller’s voice boomed through a megaphone, cutting through the freezing tarmac air like thunder.
Camden stood frozen on the loading ramp, the heavy steel crowbar trembling in his white-knuckled grip.
His chest heaved, his gaze darting wildly between the laser sights dancing across his chest and the circle of armored agents advancing across the concrete.
Lila Monroe dropped her cigarette, let out a piercing shriek, and dropped to her knees on the asphalt, her hands clasped tightly behind her head.
"Don't shoot!" Lila wailed, weeping hysterically into the wind. "I don't know what's in the boxes! He made me sign the papers! He told me he was going to marry me!"
"Camden Pierce, drop the crowbar!" Agent Miller commanded, his voice cold, steady, and immovable.
Camden looked at me where I stood twenty feet away, flanked by Arthur Vance and six Teterboro police officers.
He saw the complete, unyielding calm in my eyes.
He saw that not a single person in that hangar was going to step forward to save him.
The iron crowbar slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the diamond-plate steel ramp and bouncing onto the oil-stained concrete.
Two tactical operators rushed forward, kicked the tool aside, slammed Camden facedown against the metal ramp, and wrenched his arms behind his back with lightning efficiency.
The heavy, metallic click-clack of hinged steel handcuffs echoed off the corrugated metal hangar doors.
"Camden Pierce," Agent Miller stated, hauling Camden to his feet by his jacket collar. "You are under arrest for conspiracy to violate the International Emergency Economic Powers Act, grand larceny, wire fraud, and the unlawful exportation of restricted defense avionics."