Chapter 13 - The True Heir
Marcus swung wildly, his fist grazing Clara’s temple, but Clara didn't give him room to recover. She trapped his gun arm beneath her knee, driving her elbow down into his sternum until he gasped for breath, his weapon sliding across the floorboards into Holloway’s trembling hands.
Across the room, the gunfire abruptly ceased.
Victor stepped through the thinning smoke, his sidearm smoking, the two mercenaries lying incapacitated on the floor behind him. Victor had a bleeding graze across his forearm, but his eyes were sharp and unyielding.
""Police sirens,"" Victor said, gesturing toward the street. ""Two blocks away. Holloway called them before the glass broke.""
Marcus lay pinned beneath Clara, coughing up blood, glaring up at her with pure, undiluted hatred. ""It doesn't matter, you bastard! The board meets at nine o'clock! Without me there to endorse the transfer, the merger completes automatically! My family owns everything!""
Holloway stood up slowly, wiping blood from his cheek, and placed the steel case on the floor next to Marcus.
""You're wrong, Marcus,"" Holloway said calmly, adjusting his broken spectacles. ""Under Massachusetts corporate statute section 104, an emergency petition presented by the majority shareholder overrides any board action.""
Holloway opened the case. Inside lay a pristine thumbprint scanner connected to an encrypted satellite transponder.
Holloway looked down at Clara. ""Your father calibrated this scanner before he died, Clara. It requires the genetic marker of his biological offspring to transmit the ownership deed to the New York Stock Exchange.""
Clara stood up from Marcus’s chest, her breathing steadying. She looked at the scanner, then at her soot-stained, bloodied thumb.
""Do it, Clara,"" Julianna said from the corner, holding a wet cloth to her own bruised forehead. ""Take back what’s yours.""
Clara pressed her thumb firmly against the glass sensor.
The device beeped twice, emitting a high-pitched hum. The digital screen flashed amber, analyzed the capillary blood beneath the skin, and then glowed bright emerald green.
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A synthesized voice chimed from the terminal: “Identity confirmed. Arthur Reed estate transferred to Clara Reed-Vance. All corporate authorizations revoked.”
Marcus let out a ragged, broken moan as the front door was kicked off its hinges by arriving federal tactical units.
