Chapter 52 - The High-Altitude Fortress
Evelyn spun around, her champagne glass slipping from her manicured fingers and shattering across the Persian rug.
She was dressed in a pristine white designer suit, diamonds glittering at her throat, her hair swept up in an immaculate bun. Surrounding her were four armed Apex private contractors, who immediately reached for their sidearms.
Before the first guard could clear leather, I fired two precise shots into the deck at their feet, followed by a hard step forward, bringing my weapon to bear directly between the eyes of their team leader.
"Hands on your heads, or I depressurize this entire cabin at fifty thousand feet and see who has the best lung capacity," I said, my voice cold, lethal, and entirely devoid of mercy.
The contractors looked at my tactical harness, smelled the ozone and gunpowder rolling off my combat jacket, and recognized the eyes of a predator. One by one, they unclipped their holsters and dropped their weapons onto the rug, raising their hands.
"Lucas?" Evelyn gasped, retreating behind the massive mahogany conference table. Her face had drained of all color, the flawless veneer of society elegance cracking into pure, primal panic. "How... how are you alive? Victoria was supposed to—"
"Victoria is currently freezing in an Arctic hangar, crying into a military radio and trading your life for a blanket," I said, walking slowly toward her.
The holographic displays of the global board members flickered with confusion. Billionaires, prime ministers, and defense ministers stared in stunned silence at the young man in combat gear holding the CEO of the world’s largest aerospace conglomerate at gunpoint.
"Is that... Lucas Vance?" one of the European board members whispered through the audio channel. "The heir who was reported deceased in Iceland?"
"Good morning, gentlemen," I addressed the floating holographic cameras without taking my eyes off my stepmother. "My name is Lucas Vance. And this meeting is being recalled under Sovereign Article One."
"You have no authority!" Evelyn shrieked, backing against the panoramic forward window of the cruiser. "Your father is dead! You have no shares! You are a penniless, broken failure! Security, kill him!"
"My father is down the hall holding my mother's hand," I replied coldly. "And as for my shares..."
I pulled out my phone, synchronized it with the *Valkyrie’s* master communications array, and authorized the final handshake with the bearer shares I had retrieved from Seat 1B.
A blinding red alert flashed across every holographic terminal in the room.
*SOVEREIGN OVERRIDE CONFIRMED.*
*FULL BOARDROOM SEIZURE EXECUTED.*
*EVELYN VANCE: ASSETS FROZEN. CITIZENSHIP FLAGGED. ACCOUNTS PURGED TO BALANCE: ZERO.*
Evelyn watched in horror as her personal wealth counter dropped in real time across the wall monitors, billions vanishing into the sovereign trust until the final digital readout displayed: **$0.00**.
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"You treated me like baggage, Evelyn," I whispered, closing the distance between us until she could feel the heat radiating from my gun barrel. "You sent me to Economy. Now, let me show you what the real world feels like."
***
