Chapter 2 - THE BOARDROOM ON CONCOURSE B
The attorneys did not walk.
They marched.
Three men and two women in immaculate dark suits, cutting through the crowded terminal like icebreakers through a frozen sea.
Passengers instinctively moved out of their way.
Airport security officers stepped back.
David Collins stood absolutely still, his face the color of wet ash.
Arthur Hale did not look at the lawyers.
He was looking at Megan.
“You’re shaking,” Arthur said quietly.
Megan looked down at her hands.
She was.
“I’m fired,” she whispered. “My mom… the rent.”
“You are not fired, Megan.” Arthur’s voice was raspy, but it carried a weight that made the air in the corridor feel suddenly very thin.
The lead attorney, a tall woman with steel-gray hair and sharp eyes, reached them first.
“Mr. Hale.” She did not look at David. She did not look at Megan. “We have secured the executive lounge at Gate B12. The acquisition consortium is waiting. They are extremely anxious.”
Arthur nodded slowly.
He leaned heavily on his cane, which a medic had retrieved from his lost luggage pile.
“Angela,” Arthur said. “This is David Collins. He manages terminal services here.”
Angela finally looked at David.
It was not a friendly look.
“And this,” Arthur continued, gesturing to Megan, “is Megan Carter. She is the reason I am standing here.”
Angela’s expression softened instantly. She gave Megan a curt, respectful nod.
“Mr. Hale,” David stammered, his voice cracking. “I had no idea who you were. The protocol for medical emergencies—”
“Protocol?” Arthur interrupted.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t need to.
“Protocol dictates you abandon a dying man because the floor needs sweeping?” Arthur asked.
“Sir, the flight delays… we are under extreme pressure—”
“We are all under pressure, Mr. Collins.” Arthur turned to his lead attorney. “Angela, cancel the B12 room. We will hold the meeting right here. In the clinic waiting area.”
Angela blinked. “Sir, the consortium executives—”
“Tell them if they want Hale Global’s money, they can come to the clinic.”
David swallowed hard. “Sir, please. You can’t bring the consortium down here. It’s… it’s a public area.”
“I spent the last three hours in a public area,” Arthur said coldly. “It was highly educational.”
Ten minutes later, the sterile, fluorescent-lit waiting room of the terminal clinic was packed.
Six executives from the airport-services consortium stood awkwardly near the plastic chairs.
They wore expensive watches and bespoke suits.
They looked horrified.
Arthur sat in a cheap vinyl chair.
He kept his fraying gray coat on.
Megan stood in the corner, her hands gripping the handle of her cleaning cart. She wanted to disappear. But Arthur had explicitly ordered her to stay.
The head of the consortium, a slick-haired man named Sterling, stepped forward.
“Arthur, my god. Your phone was off. We thought you were in the air. If we had known—”
“If you had known, I would have been given a suite,” Arthur said. “But I wasn’t Arthur Hale tonight. I was just an old man with a broken suitcase. And I got to see exactly how you run your business.”
Sterling shifted uncomfortably. “Arthur, this is a misunderstanding. One bad manager—” He glared at David. “Mr. Collins will be terminated immediately.”
David gasped. “Mr. Sterling, wait!”
“You’re done, Collins,” Sterling snapped.
Arthur raised a hand.
Silence fell instantly.
“You don’t get to fire him, Sterling,” Arthur said softly. “Because you don’t own this company yet. I do.”
Sterling forced a smile. “Of course, Arthur. And under your leadership, we will clean house. Starting with the floor staff. We’ll implement new training.”
He looked at Megan with thinly veiled disdain.
“We don’t need new training,” Arthur said. “We need more people like Ms. Carter. Who risked her job to save my life.”
Sterling’s smile tightened.
He opened his leather briefcase.
“Arthur, I understand you feel a debt of gratitude to this young woman. But I must caution you.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Caution me about what?”
Sterling pulled out a manila folder.
He set it on the plastic table between them.
“When we realized there was an incident involving a staff member tonight, my team did a quick background check. Standard acquisition diligence.”
Megan’s stomach twisted.
Sterling looked directly at her.
“Ms. Carter’s presence here is… problematic.”
“Watch your next words carefully, Sterling,” Arthur warned.
“Arthur, her father is Thomas Carter,” Sterling said smoothly.
Megan froze.
How did he know her father’s name?
“Thomas Carter was a foreman for one of our construction subsidiaries,” Sterling continued. “Eight months ago, he was fired. For theft.”
Megan stepped forward, her voice shaking but loud. “That’s a lie! My father never stole anything!”
Sterling ignored her, tapping the folder. “He stole over fifty thousand dollars in copper wire and building materials from the Terminal A expansion project. He wasn’t prosecuted only because he agreed to walk away quietly.”
Sterling opened the folder and pulled out a small, tarnished object.
He placed it on the table.
Megan stopped breathing.
It was a silver locket.
Her grandmother’s locket.
The one her father had pawned three months ago to pay for Noah’s asthma medication.
“The police found this in a pawn shop last week, along with some of the stolen construction tools,” Sterling said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I’m sorry, Arthur. But this woman didn’t save you out of the goodness of her heart. She’s a disgruntled ex-employee’s daughter. She recognized you. This whole thing is a setup to extort you.”
Arthur looked at the locket.
Then he looked at Megan.
Megan felt the tears finally spill over. “I didn’t know who you were,” she whispered. “I swear to God, I didn’t know.”
Arthur reached out and picked up the silver locket.
He didn’t look angry.
He looked at the engraving on the back.
Then, Arthur Hale slowly looked up at Sterling, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.
“You made one mistake, Sterling.”
Sterling blinked. “Excuse me?”
May you like
Arthur turned the locket over.
“I bought this locket in Paris forty years ago,” Arthur said quietly. “And I gave it to my wife.”
