Chapter 6 - Trevor's Reckless Sabotage
While Arthur remained paralyzed in the corridor, Trevor was busy orchestrating his own catastrophe across the ballroom.
Consuming half a bottle of expensive bourbon had convinced Trevor that he was the smartest man in the executive mansion.
To Trevor, the entire situation was nothing more than a corrupt bureaucratic coup by an estranged, vindictive sister.
He marched through the crowded cocktail area toward a table where several senior defense contractors and high-profile journalists were gathered.
Among them was Marcus Vance, a senior investigative correspondent for the Washington Post, and several staff directors from the House Armed Services Committee.
"You want to know what is really happening with the Project Cerberus procurement program?" Trevor announced loudly, slurring his words just enough to draw an immediate crowd.
The guests turned to him, recognizing the heir to Mercer Defense Tech.
"Go ahead, Mr. Mercer," the Washington Post journalist replied, quietly tapping his phone to begin recording the audio.
"The entire Pentagon leadership is compromised," Trevor spat, gesturing wildly toward the VIP dais.
"My stepsister, Katherine Mercer, who was literally disowned from our family for insubordination twenty years ago, was installed in Acquisition to carry out a personal vendetta."
"She is deliberately sabotaging Mercer Defense Tech’s multi-billion-dollar drone contract to settle an old childhood grudge!"
A collective hush fell over the surrounding crowd.
Senators, generals, and defense executives slowly stopped their conversations, turning to stare at the drunken young executive unraveling in real-time.
"She is abusing the power of the Department of Defense to bankrupt her own family!" Trevor yelled, oblivious to the horrified looks around him.
"We passed every Aberdeen stress test with flying colors!"
"We have the proprietary software that outclasses every platform Lockheed and Northrop have built!"
"And she is blocking the certification because she wants to blackmail my father into giving her an inheritance she walked away from!"
Just as Trevor raised his glass to take another sip, a heavy, gloved hand clamped down around his wrist.
The glass was effortlessly removed from his grip and set down upon a waiter’s passing silver tray.
Trevor spun around furiously.
"Who the hell do you think you are—"
The words choked in Trevor’s throat.
Standing before him was not a security guard, but Colonel David Briggs, the Director of the Defense Criminal Investigative Service, flanked by two armed federal agents.
Behind them stood General Nathaniel Vance, his four stars gleaming under the chandelier light, his face set like cast iron.
"Mr. Trevor Mercer?" Colonel Briggs inquired, his voice cutting through the silent ballroom like a scalpel.
"Yeah, that's me," Trevor stammered, pulling at his velvet collar as the alcohol-induced bravado began to curdle into sheer terror.
"And I have First Amendment rights to expose government corruption—"
"You have the right to remain silent, Mr. Mercer," Colonel Briggs interrupted calmly, producing a folded white document from his jacket.
"I am serving you with a federal warrant issued by the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia."
"The charges include wire fraud, major defense contractor fraud against the United States, and willful falsification of military safety certifications under Title Eighteen, Section One Thousand and One."
Trevor’s knees buckled.
He grabbed the edge of a banquet table, nearly knocking over a three-tiered floral arrangement.
"What... what are you talking about?" Trevor stammered, his eyes darting frantically across the circle of onlookers who were now taking photos with their smartphones.
"Arthur!"
"Arthur, get over here!"
Arthur and Evelyn rushed into the ballroom, having heard the commotion, only to freeze dead in their tracks at the sight of the federal badges.
"Trevor!" Evelyn screamed, rushing forward, only to be physically barred by two Secret Service agents.
"Take your hands off my son!"
"Do you know who we are?"
General Vance stepped into the center of the ring, looking directly at Arthur Mercer.
"They know exactly who you are, Mrs. Mercer," Vance declared loudly enough for every senator and donor in the room to hear.
"You are the executives who attempted to deploy combat drones equipped with defective guidance microchips."
"Microchips that your stepson sourced from unauthorized offshore suppliers to save Mercer Defense Tech fifty million dollars in manufacturing overhead."
Arthur stopped breathing.
His chest seized as he stared at Trevor, whose terrified, sweat-soaked face confirmed every single word Vance had just spoken.
"Trevor..." Arthur whispered, his voice trembling with horror.
"What did you do?"
"You told me to cut costs, Arthur!" Trevor cried out, panicking completely in front of the entire Washington elite.
"You told me we needed thirty percent profit margins to pay off the Wall Street lenders before the fiscal year closed!"
"You told me to make the numbers work no matter what it took!"
Flashbulbs began to erupt from the press corps at the back of the room.
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Reporters were already sending live updates to news desks across the nation.
The Mercer Defense Tech brand, built over forty years of cutthroat corporate maneuvering, was disintegrating on live international television in the middle of the White House ballroom.
