My High-Society Father Dismissed My Supersonic Jet Warnings As Hysteria Until He Crashed The Simulator — Then The Defense Board Forced Me To Take His Place
Fourteen days crawled by after the dramatic fallout at the simulator demonstration. The news, stripped of Arthur’s last-ditch power cut-off, had exploded. “Harrington Aerospace in Shambles,” “Paternity Scandal Rocks Billion-Dollar Deal,” “Dr. Elena Harrington Redeems Her Name” — the headlines screamed from every aviation trade publication and financial news outlet.
Arthur Harrington, true to his final exit, remained hidden. His sudden resignation was announced through a terse press release from his legal team, citing “personal reasons” and “health concerns.” He was in private exile, shielded by lawyers and the remaining vestiges of his old money.
I, meanwhile, prepared to officially sign the defense acquisition papers. The contracts, now massive and complex, would hand me full ownership of the Specter program, all its patents, and the $400 million military tender. The attorneys expected me at the gleaming corporate headquarters, a tower of glass and steel symbolizing Harrington Aerospace’s former power.
But I had other plans.
“I won’t be signing at the main office,” I informed General Kensington’s liaison. My voice was calm, definitive. “I’m requesting the signing ceremony take place at the abandoned airfield.”
The liaison paused, clearly surprised. “The old Rhodes field, Doctor? On the outskirts of Redding?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “The hangar where Dr. Harlan Rhodes built his first prototype.”
It was a desolate place, forgotten by time and progress. A stark, physical contrast to the luxurious boardrooms where Arthur had once reigned. A fitting location, I thought, to reclaim what was truly ours.
More Stories
+ There are no comments
Add yours