Chapter 3 - The Board of Review
The West Briefing Room was a stark contrast to the glittering ballroom. It was a theater of war dressed up as a boardroom. Heavy mahogany tables were arranged in a semi-circle, facing a projector screen. This was where the real business of the evening took place. Defense contractors from the top tech firms in the world were given exactly fifteen minutes to prove their worth to the United States military brass.
Arthur strutted into the room with his chest puffed out, flanked by his chief engineers and Trevor, who was carrying a silver briefcase holding the prototype of the 'Mercer Shield'—a supposedly impenetrable drone defense network. Arthur looked around the room, noting the heavy presence of generals, admirals, and top-tier DOD analysts. He was in his element here. He believed that money could buy any room, and he had the deepest pockets.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Armed Forces," Arthur began, flashing his million-dollar smile as he clicked the presentation remote. "Mercer Defense Tech is proud to present the future of battlefield security. The Mercer Shield. A drone network so intuitive, so resilient, that it guarantees zero casualties in hostile drop zones."
He spent the next ten minutes throwing out buzzwords, flashy graphics, and inflated statistics. He spoke of profit margins, efficiency, and market dominance. He didn't speak of soldiers. He didn't speak of the mud, the blood, or the terrifying reality of a firefight. He spoke like a man who had never seen war, trying to sell armor to people who lived in it.
"And now, I am ready to answer any questions the evaluation committee might have," Arthur concluded, crossing his arms with smug satisfaction. "I am confident that the head of the committee will see that Mercer Tech is the only logical choice for this three-billion-dollar contract."
From the shadows at the back of the room, General Vance stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Mercer. The head of the advanced tactical evaluation committee will now conduct the technical cross-examination."
Arthur smiled broadly. "Excellent. I look forward to—"
"Major General Mercer, the floor is yours," Vance announced, stepping aside.
The breath left Arthur’s lungs in a violent rush as I stepped out from the darkness and walked down the center aisle, my dress shoes clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. I took my seat at the center of the semi-circle, right behind the placard that read: Head of Advanced Tactical Evaluation.
Arthur’s eyes bulged. Trevor dropped the silver briefcase onto the floor with a loud, echoing thud.
"Kate?" Arthur whispered, the microphone catching his panicked breath.
"Major General Mercer," I corrected him, my voice echoing through the sound system. I opened the thick black dossier in front of me, spreading out dozens of classified technical readouts. "Let's begin, Mr. Mercer. I have reviewed your blueprints for the Mercer Shield. I have also cross-referenced them with field data from live-fire exercises in the desert."
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Arthur swallowed hard, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "Kate... please, this is a highly complex system. You couldn't possibly understand the micro-routing—"
"I understand that your thermal regulators fail when exposed to ambient temperatures above 110 degrees Fahrenheit," I cut him off, my voice sharp as a combat knife. "Which means in a Middle Eastern theater of war, your drones overheat and shut down in twelve minutes."
