A name that was currently the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.
Marcus Sterling’s biological grandfather.
The supreme architect of the Vance-Sterling dynasty.
**Chief Justice Arthur Sterling-Vance**.
The man who had spent forty years pretending he was an impartial constitutional jurist while constructing an offshore syndicate to seize the strategic defense bedrock of North America.
A slow, radiant, terrifying smile broke across Ethan Vance’s face—a smile that held zero fear, zero debts, zero lies, and zero graves.
I reached out with my right hand.
I picked up the four-inch antique solid-titanium transponder key from the table.
I looked at Claire.
I looked at Uncle David:
“Uncle David,” Ethan Vance whispered softly into the quiet vault:
“Warm up the White Hawk.”
“Tell the grand jury in Washington that the father has returned from the alley.”
“The hit-team is in chains.”
“The mother is healed.”
“The son holds the truck.”
“The ledger has been opened.”
“Now…”
He clicked the titanium key against the transponder cylinder with a clean, sharp, definitive *SNAP*:
“…we’re going to the Supreme Court to audit the Chief Justice.”
—
PART 3: THE HIGH CAPITOL AUDIT & THE ARCHITECT’S FINAL DECREE
CHAPTER 1: THE STRATOSPHERE OVER THE POTOMAC
