discounted because I have a personal grievance against this company. That argument is accurate in one respect. I was terminated by this company 3 years ago on fabricated charges, which did significant damage to my career and my family. I do have feelings about that.” He let that sit for a moment. “What I’m asking you to consider is whether those feelings have any bearing on the physics of what a Veritech TF90 feedback regulator does under sustained thermal load. Because the component doesn’t know how I feel about Derek Langford. The documentation doesn’t care about my employment history. The numbers are the numbers.” He looked at Derek once deliberately and then looked away. “With that said, the independent inspection findings.”
He went through it the same way he’d gone through it in the conference room 3 days earlier, but with more precision because this room required more precision. He took them through the thermal load test data. He took them through the calibration log falsification. He took them through the 17-page safety review, its suppression, and the three prior safety communications that had received written responses documenting resolutions that never happened. At this point, one of the board members, a man named Gerald Fitch, 70s real estate money, who’d been on the Sterling Crest board since the company’s founding, raised his hand. “Mr. Holt, the TF90, if this defect is as you described, see, are we talking about a certain crash or a risk of one?” “Under the specific conditions of the demonstration flight route, full cabin load, coastal approach, sustained operation above 60%, I estimate a probability of system failure significant enough to cause loss of control in the range of 60 to 70%.” The room absorbed that. “60 to 70%,” Fitch repeated. “That’s an engineering estimate, not a certainty, but yes, better than even odds.” Fitch sat back in his chair and looked at the table and didn’t say anything else.
Gavin moved to the financial findings, the Veritech supply chain, the Delaware Incorporation, Greymark Consolidated, Thomas Langford’s Trust. He put the numbers on the projector, the contract totals, the market comparables, the differential that had flowed back through the structure over 3 years, $86.4 million. He watched the faces around the table as the numbers sat on the screen. He watched some of them do the mental math, connecting the supply contract they’d approved to the structure beneath it. He watched the particular face of a man at the far end of the table. Philip Ross, early 60s investment background, who had been on the procurement committee that approved the Veritech contract, go through several things in quick sequence and arrive at careful blankness, which was a face that told Gavin something he filed away without commenting on the forged authorization documents, he said, and moved to the next section.
This was the one Derek’s lawyers were waiting for. Gavin could feel it, the slight forward lean, the readying. He put the two documents on the projector. Marissa’s digital signature applied to authorizations for the falsified test parameters and the non-standard filing structure. “These documents bear Ms. Sterling’s digital signature,” Gavin said. “They were created using her system credentials. They are dated during a 10-day period when Ms. Sterling was in Singapore on an investor road show.” He advanced to the next slide. “Hotel keycard timestamps, airline manifest, passport scan. Her physical presence in Singapore during the dates on these documents has been verified by three independent sources. She did not execute these authorizations. Someone with access to her system credentials did.” He looked at Derek. Derek looked back at him with the expression of a man who had prepared for this moment and was performing the preparation. “The documents reflect—” “Derek.” Marissa’s voice quiet. Even he stopped. One of his lawyers put a hand on his arm.
Gavin continued, “The digital forensic analysis of these documents conducted by the outside firm retained by legal counsel traces the credential usage to a workstation in the executive vice president’s office suite. The access time stamp is 11:14 p.m. on a Wednesday during a period when the building’s security log shows only three badge entries after 6:00 p.m.” He paused. “Derek Langford’s badge was one of them.” The room was very quiet. One of the remote board members, a face on the screen, a woman named Chen, who Gavin had been watching peripherally because she asked the sharpest questions of the three, said, “Mr. Holt, I want to make sure I understand. You’re saying that the same individual who suppressed the safety reviews, who controlled the supplier through a family member who falsified the certification test parameters, also forged the CEO’s signature on documents designed to shift criminal liability to her in the event of a crash.” “That is what the evidence indicates. Yes.” “And this individual is currently sitting at this table.” “Yes.”
Chen looked at Derek. Then she looked at Marissa. “I’d like to suggest that Mr. Langford and his counsel step out while the board discusses next steps.” Derek’s primary lawyer, a compact gray-haired man named Whitaker, who had the practiced composure of someone who’d been in rooms like this before, said, “My client has a right to—” “Mr. Langford is not a board member,” Chen said. “He’s an employee under active investigation. His presence in this room during deliberations is at the board’s discretion, not his counsel’s.” She looked at Marissa. “Chair’s call.” Marissa looked at Derek. Whatever she was feeling, and Gavin had spent enough time around her in the past week to know she was capable of feeling things she didn’t show. Her face was entirely level. She said, “Derek, step out, please.” Derek looked at her for a long moment. There was something in it, not quite appeal, not quite threat, something in between, the look of a man who’d spent years reading a room and was finding for the first time that he couldn’t read this one. Then he stood. His lawyers gathered their things. They filed out and the door closed.