“With whose aircraft listed as fleet assets?”
Preston stepped closer.
“You know how investor decks work.”
Camille laughed once.
“No.”
“Please explain.”
“They show operating fleet.”
“Not legal title.”
“Did presentation disclose leases?”
Grant said:
“Yes.”
Preston said nothing.
Camille caught mismatch.
“Grant?”
He looked.
“Did it disclose all six were leased?”
He hesitated.
“Footnotes.”
“Show me.”
“Not here.”
“Then send.”
“We will.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Now.”
Preston snapped:
“You don’t order us around inside our own facility.”
Camille looked around.
“Interesting choice of sentence.”
Preston realized.
The hangar itself sat on land owned by Atlas Crown Properties, in which Vaughn Meridian held a forty-percent secured interest due previous financing.
Not hers outright.
But still.
Grant touched Preston’s arm.
“Enough.”
Preston pulled away.
“You want to embarrass us?”
Camille’s voice hardened.
“You embarrassed yourselves.”
“This isn’t about what your employees said to me.”
“This is about six aircraft with compromised records.”
Preston smiled coldly.
“Please.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the reveal.”
Camille felt the strike because part of it was true.
For perhaps one second, seeing Everett’s face had felt satisfying.
She would not lie.
But one second did not determine what came next.
She said:
“I enjoyed watching a rude man discover he was wrong for about two seconds.”
“Then your engineer told me someone may have corrupted aircraft records.”
“Do not confuse the two.”
Grant looked away.
Preston said nothing.
Camille continued:
“No aircraft leaves tonight.”
“Independent technical audit begins now.”
“Vaughn Meridian assumes custody under safety provisions pending determination.”
Preston’s face reddened.
“You can’t repossess operational assets without notice.”
“Read Section 14.3.”
“I know contract.”
“Then you know material safety-record integrity breach allows immediate protective possession.”
“This is not a safety breach.”
Daniel said:
“Identity records are safety records.”
Preston turned on him.
“You work for me in this hangar.”
Daniel stared.
“No.”
“I work for whoever owns responsibility when people die.”
Silence.
Camille looked at Daniel.
He surprised even her.
Preston stepped back.
“You’ll regret this.”
Camille answered:
“Maybe.”
“But not as much as I’d regret letting an aircraft depart with records I cannot trust.”
The first member flight was canceled at 9:32.
The second at 9:36.
The third at 9:41.
Guests left angry.
Some demanded refunds.
Some demanded replacement aircraft.
Sovereign Arc chartered outside lift at enormous cost.
Camille did not interfere.
By midnight, the hangar no longer looked like a party.
Champagne tables sat abandoned.
Music equipment packed.
Maintenance teams in reflective vests moved through controlled zones.
Outside counsel arrived.