Chapter 4 - The Tactical Retreat
Over the next forty-eight hours, the Hermitage Hotel suite transformed into a military-style operational command post.
Reid Lawson joined us on Saturday afternoon, bringing along his uncle, Richard Lawson—a formidable senior partner at one of Washington D.C.'s top corporate defense law firms. Together with my military legal advisor, Major Sarah Jenkins, whom I called in from Ramstein, we spent twenty hours combing through Mercer Development's financial disclosures, bank loan agreements, and corporate filings.
The discovery was appalling.
Charles Mercer hadn't just made bad investments; he had engaged in active corporate negligence. To secure the bank loans, he had misrepresented Mercer Development's liquidity, altered financial audits, and lied to the board about having 'verbal assurances' from federal authorities regarding the riverfront zoning override.
"Your father committed loan fraud, Camille," Richard Lawson declared, setting down a three-inch-thick binder of loan covenants on the coffee table. "He used your signature on the co-guarantor documents by providing you with an outdated financial disclosure that hid thirty million dollars in secondary liabilities. Under Tennessee corporate law, that constitutes material misrepresentation. We can file an emergency injunction to void your personal liability instantly."
Camille sat on the sofa, holding a mug of tea, her face resolute. "Do it, Mr. Lawson. Remove my name from every contract associated with Charles Mercer."
"What happens to the company?" Reid asked, sitting beside Camille and holding her hand.
"Without Camille's personal collateral backing the loans, and without the DOD zoning override, the banks will initiate foreclosure proceedings on Mercer Development within thirty days," Richard explained. "Charles will be forced into Chapter 11 corporate restructuring. He’ll lose the riverfront properties, his commercial buildings, and most of his personal fortune."
"Good," I said from the window, looking out over the Nashville skyline. "He built that fortune on vanity and deception. It's time he paid the invoice."
Suddenly, my phone chimed on the table.
It was a text message from my father:
EVELYN. EMERGENCY BOARD MEETING AT MERCER HEADQUARTERS AT 4:00 PM TODAY. SENATOR VANCE’S OFFICE IS DEMANDING A FORMAL CLARIFICATION ON OUR DOD ZONING APPLICATION. YOU WILL ATTEND THIS MEETING IN UNIFORM AND SET THE RECORD STRAIGHT. THIS IS A FAMILY OBLIGATION.
I read the text aloud to the room.
Reid let out a cold, dark laugh. "The man is delusional. He still thinks he can command a Major General."
"He doesn't understand command, Reid," I said, picking up my service cap from the table and placing it neatly on my head, adjusting the golden oak leaves on the visor. "He only understands power. And today, he's going to find out who actually holds it."
Camille stood up, wearing a sharp navy business suit, her hair pulled back into a sleek, professional knot. "I'm coming with you, Evie."
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"Are you sure, Camille?" I asked, looking at my sister. "This is going to be ugly."
Camille looked at me, her eyes shining with a fierce, independent fire I had never seen in her before. "For sixteen years, I let him push you out of this family. For ten years, I let him use me as a trophy employee. Today, I walk away. And I want to be there when you blow his house down."
