Chapter 56 - The Chokehold on Wall Street
While Caleb secured the master schematics beneath Sycamore Lane, Evelyn Vance was executing a masterclass in asymmetric warfare in the heart of Manhattan.
Dressed in an immaculate navy-blue tailored suit, her silver-streaked hair styled with executive elegance, Evelyn walked through the revolving glass doors of the Federal Maritime Commission on Broadway. Flanking her were two former admirals of the Atlantic Defense Task Force and an elite legal team that had served the Vance family for three generations.
"Mrs. Vance," the Commission Chairman stammered, standing up behind his sprawling mahogany desk as Evelyn entered without an appointment. "We have received severe diplomatic communiques from the Geneva Tribunal. Lord Drake’s sovereign immunity claim has tied our hands. We were forced to freeze your port clearances."
"Sit down, Harold," Evelyn said calmly, taking the center leather chair before he could invite her. She dropped a heavy leather binder onto his desk with a resonant thud.
"What is this?" the Chairman asked nervously.
"That is the original 1954 Federal Harbor Defense Charter," Evelyn said, her tone smooth, authoritative, and utterly unyielding. "Signed by the Secretary of the Navy. It stipulates that in the event of an unauthorized foreign vessel exceeding one hundred thousand gross tonnage anchoring in lower New York territorial waters without an American pilot aboard, all diplomatic immunity is suspended within seventy-two hours under domestic treason statutes."
Harold blinked, thumbing through the brittle yellow pages. "Evelyn... the *Leviathan* claims to be a peaceful private mega-yacht."
"A mega-yacht carrying eighteen automated point-defense turrets and forty thousand metric tons of unregistered bullion stolen from American strategic reserves during the 1974 currency crash," Evelyn countered, leaning forward, her eyes pinning the bureaucrat to his seat. "Lucian Drake gave us a seventy-two-hour deadline to surrender our family’s assets. I am giving you six hours to issue a Department of Homeland Security quarantine warrant against his vessel."
"If I do that, the European markets will retaliate!" Harold pleaded, sweat beading on his forehead. "Drake’s syndicate controls thirty percent of trans-Atlantic shipping insurance!"
"Then let them retaliate against an empty harbor," Evelyn replied, pulling out her secure satellite phone and placing it on the desk. "Because as of ten minutes ago, the International Longshoremen’s Association—every crane operator, tug captain, and dockworker from Maine to Virginia—has walked off the job in solidarity with the Vance line. Not a single crate moves on the East Coast until the *Leviathan* is placed under military arrest."
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The Chairman’s jaw dropped. "You shut down the entire Eastern seaboard?"
"My mother-in-law Eleanor taught me two things, Harold," Evelyn said, standing up and smoothing her lapels. "Never apologize for protecting your children. And never start a war with a dockworker."
