BZRK: Reloaded (BZRK 2)

“Go ahead, Don,” Thrum said. Like this was her meeting.

“Well, the long and short of it is that Sadie is the sole surviving heir. She inherits the bulk of the estate. There are some bequests for some of Grey McLure’s friends, relations, employees, and charities. All told those bequests are quite substantial, amounting to something on the order of two hundred million dollars in McLure stock and cash.”

Keats whistled, then apologized.

“It’s worth whistling at,” Jellicoe allowed. “So is what’s left to Sadie.” He looked at Sadie, raised his Saruman eyebrows, and said, “You inherit the rest of your father and brother’s shares of McLure. Added to those you already own, you hold fifty-five percent of the company. At today’s prices, as I said, that’s just a hair under two billion dollars. Of course the share price has dropped quite a bit since your father and brother died so tragically. But if the company is well managed, the stock value will bounce back.”

“And you won’t need to worry about that: managing the company is the responsibility of the board,” Thrum said with what she hoped was absolute finality.

“The company belongs to its stockholders,” Plath said levelly. She had not come here to be bullied.

“Yes, of course,” Thrum said. “And your shares will be voted by your executor.” She turned to Jellicoe, whose expression was unreadable.

“Here it comes,” Keats said under his breath.

“Executor?” Plath asked, already knowing the answer. It would be interesting to see how Thrum responded.

Jellicoe sighed. “It is usual practice to assign an adult executor in the case of

a minor, a wise, trusted older friend or lawyer.”

Keats made a wry face.

“But in this case,” Jellicoe went on, “Grey McLure specifically declined to do so. In fact, he directed me to take such measures as would ensure that his daughter not only inherited his company, but, in the event of her brother’s death, should run it.”

“That’s absurd,” Thrum snapped. “That can’t be legal.”

“Ah, but it is,” Jellicoe said. “Grey emancipated his daughter. And with some effort—many, many billable hours, I’m pleased to admit—I was able to enact his wishes.” He dropped the grin. “I think Grey, who was my good friend for twenty years, expected to die, you see. I heard it in his voice. I saw it in his actions. He expected to die.”

Plath felt a lead weight pressing down on her heart. Of course her father had expected to be killed. Of course. He had guessed what was coming.

As she could guess at the terror that was coming for her. Will it be death? Or madness?

She closed her eyes, not realizing she’d done so. Silence fell around her as she remembered her father, and that day. Images of the jet screaming down out of the sky …Not what she wanted to remember about her father and brother. Not the images she wanted to hold on to for the rest of her life.

“Maybe he was mentally compromised,” Thrum suggested. “Not competent.”

Plath opened her eyes, and her lips curled into a snarl.

Jellicoe cut in quickly. “He anticipated that line of …reasoning. Attached to the document are affidavits from three board-certified psychiatrists who each examined Grey within a month of his signing of the will.”

Thrum at last exhibited frustration. She threw up one hand. Just one. And said nothing.

Plath noticed Stern smiling, not at her but at some memory. He, too, had been with McLure for a long time, and Grey was a man who made friends for life.

“I don’t want to run the company,” Plath said. “In fact, Ms Thrum, my father always said you were the smartest person on the board, and that if you hadn’t been a woman you’d have been put in charge of your own family’s company.”

Thrum looked surprised, genuinely, this time. And she acknowledged that last point with a curt nod.

“So,” Plath said, “I guess I’m appointing you as president. I’ll ask Mr Jellicoe to work out the financial terms: fair but not extravagant.”

Plath had thought this next part out well in advance.

“But I have certain things I do want,” Plath continued. “I want fifty million dollars—cash—in offshore banks. That’s mine to do with as I see fit.”

Jellicoe and Thrum both nodded warily.

“I want Mr Stern to be my contact with you, Ms Thrum. He was loyal and stayed by me when my family was murdered. Loyalty is important. Isn’t it?”