Chapter 13 - The Deposition
Z
The high-rise conference room on the forty-fifth floor of the Chicago legal complex was built to intimidate. Glass walls looked out over a gray, freezing city skyline, and the long quartz table was lined with leather-bound volumes, laptops, and five corporate attorneys wearing bespoke suits.
At the center sat Harrison Drake—a sharp, fox-like man in his sixties with slicked-back hair and a smug, practiced demeanor. Next to him, wearing an orange orange prison jumpsuit under heavy security escort, was Arthur Pendelton.
I sat across from them in a simple dark blue blazer, my hands folded neatly on top of a single, black leather binder. Marcus Vance sat to my left, while a court reporter adjusted her stenography machine at the head of the table.
"For the record," Drake began, leaning forward with his hands clasped, "this is the civil discovery deposition of Elena Vance-Sterling regarding the matter of United States v. Pendelton et al. Mrs. Sterling, I will remind you that you are under oath."
"It's Vance," I corrected calmly. "Not Sterling."
Drake offered a patronizing smile. "Of course. Ms. Vance, let’s dive right into the core issue. Your father, Colonel Richard Vance, established the primary trust that holds your current assets. Between 2012 and 2015, Colonel Vance received several large wire transfers from a firm registered in Zurich named Vektor Security Consultants. Is that correct?"
"That is correct," I said.
"And Vektor Security Consultants was a subsidiary firm co-managed by my client, Mr. Pendelton," Drake said, gesturing toward Pendelton, who sat back with a superior, arrogant posture. "Which means your father’s trust was funded, at least in part, by capital derived from the very entity you are now claiming was fraudulent."
"That is an inaccurate statement, Mr. Drake," I replied, my voice steady and measured.
Drake smirked, looking toward the court reporter. "Inaccurate? It’s on the banking paper trail, Ms. Vance. Unless you are claiming your father provided legitimate military consulting services to a shadow firm without reporting it to the Department of Defense?"
"I am claiming that my father was hired by Vektor Security in 2013 to conduct an independent forensic audit of their Eastern European logistics division," I said calmly.
I opened the black binder in front of me. I turned to the first section, which contained scanned, authenticated military intelligence clearing documents bearing official federal watermarks.
"In March of 2013," I continued, "my father discovered that Vektor was not a legitimate security firm, but a money-laundering clearinghouse operated by Mr. Pendelton to syphon capital out of European commercial developments. My father immediately reported those findings to the United States Treasury’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network."
Pendelton’s smug expression froze. He sat up straight, his dark eyes fixing onto the binder in my hands.
"What is that document?" Drake demanded, his confidence flickering for the first time.
"This is Document FIN-2013-889," Marcus Vance interjected smoothly, handing a copied stack across the table to Drake. "It is a classified-cleared whistleblower report submitted by Colonel Richard Vance to the federal government. It documents every single illegal wire transfer executed by Mr. Pendelton between 2012 and 2016. Vektor didn't fund my client's father, Mr. Drake. The federal government authorized Colonel Vance to receive those payments as part of an active, decade-long federal sting operation."
Drake rapidly flipped through the pages, his face turning increasingly pale as he read the official signatures, the seal of the Department of Justice, and the explicit mention of Arthur Pendelton’s personal offshore accounts.
"This... this wasn't disclosed in the prosecution's initial discovery," Drake stammered, looking at Pendelton, whose jaw had gone completely slack.
"Because it was held in a restricted national security archive until yesterday morning," I said, leaning forward and resting my forearms on the table, fixing Pendelton with an unyielding glare. "My father wasn't your partner, Mr. Pendelton. He was the man who built the trap you just walked into."
Pendelton slammed his hands onto the quartz table, his face turning purple with rage. "You little bitch! You knew! You knew this whole time!"
"Sit down, Arthur!" Drake shouted, trying to grab his client's arm, but the federal marshals standing behind Pendelton were already moving.
They seized Pendelton by the shoulders, forcing him back into his chair and snapping handcuffs onto his wrists as he hurled profane threats across the table.
I didn't flinch. I didn't move an inch. I simply watched him thrash against his restraints until the guards hauled him out of the conference room.
Drake sat in complete silence, slowly closing the file folder in front of him. He looked up at me, his arrogant aura entirely shattered.
May you like
"We will be withdrawing the subpoena immediately, Ms. Vance," Drake whispered, his voice dry.
"Make sure you do, Mr. Drake," Marcus said, closing his briefcase with a loud, sharp click. "Because if you ever attempt to question Colonel Vance's integrity again, we won't just block your filings. We will file for sanctions against your firm for suborning perjury."
