Camille’s voice became very soft.
“Arthur.”
“Sovereign Arc is being sold.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know final entity.”
“Price?”
“I heard around eight hundred million.”
Daniel swore quietly.
Camille stared.
An acquisition of Sovereign Arc without notifying Vaughn Meridian would already breach multiple agreements because the fleet formed the company’s primary advertised asset.
Worse, a buyer might have been shown aircraft utilization that was false.
“Were the six aircraft represented as Sovereign Arc-owned assets?”
Arthur said:
“I don’t know.”
“You know enough to answer.”
“In investor materials…”
He stopped.
Camille waited.
“Yes.”
Daniel turned away.
He walked two steps and stared at wall.
Camille felt fury now.
Real fury.
Not personal.
Structural.
Someone may have been attempting to sell a company using aircraft it did not own while corrupting records on those aircraft to inflate apparent availability and value.
She asked:
“Do you have those investor materials?”
“No.”
“Have you seen?”
“One presentation.”
“Where?”
“Preston’s laptop.”
“Was Vaughn Meridian named as lessor?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember.”
Arthur whispered:
“No.”
Camille’s jaw tightened.
She pulled out phone.
Called general counsel.
Aaron Delaney answered on first ring.
“Camille.”
“I need litigation hold on Atlas Crown, Sovereign Arc, all fleet records, all lease communications.”
A pause.
“How bad?”
“Potential serial manipulation and undisclosed sale process.”
Silence.
Then Aaron’s voice changed entirely.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone threatening?”
“No.”
“Do not let records leave.”
“I know.”
“I’m sending outside aviation counsel.”
“Federal notification?”
“Not yet.”
“Daniel found airframe identity mismatch.”
Another silence.
“Do not touch anything else until technical preservation protocol.”
“Understood.”
“Ground fleet.”
“Already.”
“Good.”
“I’m notifying insurer and manufacturer counsel.”
“Do that.”
“And Camille?”
“Yes?”
“Do not accuse anyone of fraud publicly.”
“I know.”
The call ended.
Arthur looked sick.
Camille sat for first time.
The silver gown glittered absurdly beneath fluorescent office lights.
“Arthur.”
“Yes?”
“If you cooperate fully, your cooperation will be documented.”
“If you destroy anything, delete anything, call anyone to coordinate stories, or instruct a worker to alter a record, that will also be documented.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She looked at Daniel.
“How many people know the truth?”
“About plate swaps?”
“Five maybe.”
“Names.”
Daniel listed.
Two mechanics.
Maintenance records coordinator.
Arthur.