Chapter 44 - The Verdict of the Living
On the dais, Harrison Vance glared at me, his hand still resting on the Bible. "Eleanor. Conclude the affirmation."
I looked directly into the lens of the primary broadcast camera, ignoring the prepared script on the podium. The fear that had kept my heart in a vice for the past six hours evaporated, leaving behind a cold, crystalline fury.
"I will not," I said.
The words dropped like anvil strikes into the silent courtroom. Vanessa sprang to her feet, her hand diving into her jacket for her phone, frantically tapping the override sequence to kill my daughter.
"The transmission is compromised! Cut the feed!" Vanessa screamed.
"Do not touch that switch," I commanded, projecting my voice with the full, thunderous authority of the federal bench. "You are all under arrest for high treason, conspiracy to overthrow the government, and the attempted murder of the Governor and the Chief Judge."
"Eleanor, you fool!" Harrison hissed, his cane trembling in his grip as he lunged toward me. "You’ve killed the girl!"
"My daughter is safe, Harrison," I said, stepping away from the podium and staring him down with pure contempt. "Your mercenaries in the drainage vault are dead. And your brother Thomas has already signed a full confession aboard the transport ship at the harbor. Every transaction, every offshore holding company, every corrupt judge on your payroll—it’s all being uploaded to the Pentagon’s secure servers as we speak."
Shouts erupted in the corridors outside. The heavy brass doors of the courtroom burst inward with a deafening roar as a full battalion of United States Marshals and FBI Hostage Rescue units flooded the chamber, assault rifles leveled at the men in the gallery.
"Weapons on the ground! Do it now!"
Vanessa lunged for the service exit, but two marshals tackled her into the marble balustrade, pinning her arms behind her back and wrenching the detonator tablet from her grip.
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Harrison stood alone on the raised dais, his ancient face crumbling into a mask of pathetic bewilderment. He looked at the cameras, then at the federal agents swarming his private army, and finally at me.
"You don't understand," he whispered, a terrifying spark of mania igniting in his milky eyes. "You think Vanessa and I are the head of the snake? We were only the cleanup crew, Eleanor."
