Chapter 18 - A Mother's Vow
The realization settled like toxic frost.
Uncle Raymond hadn't just sat back and watched the Sterling family fall apart; he had manipulated Eleanor from behind the curtain. He had likely been the one advising her to file the emergency trust petition, hoping that by muddying the waters with a messy civil suit, no one would look deeper into the 1991 procurement archives.
"He used them," David said, his voice trembling with disgust. "He used my mother's hatred and Megan's narcissism as a meat shield to protect his own retirement."
"He underestimated Claire," Dad said proudly. "He thought Claire was an administrative officer who would fold under family pressure. He didn't expect her to call in JAG and the Treasury Department."
"What happens now?" David asked. "Raymond has friends in the Senate, the Department of Defense, the intelligence community. If he realizes Eleanor has been captured, won't he try to destroy the evidence in Zurich?"
"He can't touch Zurich," I said, my operational mind taking over completely. The pain in my abdomen had faded, replaced by the razor-sharp clarity of a combat strategist. "The federal seizure warrant signed this morning covers all assets directly linked to the Sterling estate, including international safety-deposit boxes under the Mutual Legal Assistance Treaty."
"That takes seventy-two hours to execute in Switzerland," Dad noted grimly. "Raymond has enough private influence to have that box emptied before the Swiss authorities verify the paperwork."
"Not if we intercept him first," I said, tossing the hospital blanket aside and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
"Claire, no!" David immediately moved to stop me, his hands gently holding my shoulders. "You're still recovering! The doctors said you need forty-eight hours of strict bed rest!"
"I'm thirty-two weeks pregnant, David, not incapacitated," I said, meeting his eyes with unwavering determination. "Raymond Vance attended our wedding. He drank our wine, smiled in our faces, and allowed your sister to treat me like garbage because it suited his agenda. He is not going to walk away into a comfortable retirement while my mother's memory pays for his crimes."
Dad didn't try to stop me. Instead, a grim, satisfied smirk touched his lips. "That’s my girl."
"Arthur, don't encourage her!" David protested, looking frantically between father and daughter.
"Son," Dad said calmly, placing a heavy hand on David's shoulder. "When an enemy commander realizes his flank is exposed, he makes one of two choices: he retreats, or he launches a desperate counter-assault. Raymond won't retreat to Switzerland. He knows our satellite monitoring tracks international private flights out of Andrews Air Force Base."
"Then where will he go?" David asked.
"He's coming here," I said, pointing to the door. "He has an honorary pass to Fort Belvoir. He knows Dad is here, and he knows I'm hospitalized. He's going to come in under the guise of a concerned uncle visiting his sick niece, trying to feel out exactly how much we know before the federal indictment lands on his desk."
As if summoned by my words, the hospital room’s landline phone rang once.
Dad picked it up, listened for five seconds, and spoke two words: "Send him up."
May you like
He hung up the phone and looked at me. "He just cleared the main security gate. He's in the elevator."
***
