Chapter 7 - The Desperation of a Cornered Rat
When court resumed, it was the defense’s turn to cross-examine me.
Grant’s lawyer, a slick man named Vance, approached the podium with a desperate, aggressive energy. He knew he couldn't beat the paper trail, so he had to attack my character.
"Commander Moore," Vance began, leaning heavily on the podium. "Isn't it true that you have harbored a deep resentment against your brother since childhood?"
"I haven't spoken to my brother in ten years," I replied calmly.
"Isn't it true that you were jealous of his position in the family? That you felt neglected?"
"Objection," Jenkins called out. "Relevance."
"I'll allow it," the judge said, watching me closely. "But tread lightly, Counselor."
"I am asking, Commander," Vance sneered, "if it is possible that you did authorize your brother to use your name, and now, seeing his massive financial success, you've decided to play the victim to extort a settlement?"
A murmur ran through the courtroom. It was a vile, desperate tactic.
I did not flinch. I did not raise my voice. I leaned into the microphone, locking eyes with Vance.
"Sir, I am a Lieutenant Commander in the United States Navy. I manage logistics and federal contracts for multi-national defense operations. I have a security clearance higher than this courtroom. I do not need, nor have I ever wanted, a single dime of the money my brother stole from the taxpayers."
Vance swallowed hard. He was losing the jury, and he knew it.
"But you can't prove you didn't verbally agree to this arrangement!" Vance pressed.
"Actually, I can," I said smoothly. "If you look at Prosecution Exhibit 42—the timestamped email where Grant Moore submitted the final ownership declaration to the federal registry—it was sent on October 14th."
"So?"
"On October 14th of that year, I was submerged on a nuclear submarine in the Pacific Ocean. I had no internet access, no phone access, and zero communication with the outside world for sixty days prior. It is mathematically and physically impossible for me to have authorized that submission."
The jury literally nodded along with me.
Vance opened his mouth, closed it, and looked back at Grant. Grant was staring at the table, his face buried in his hands.
"No further questions," Vance muttered, retreating to his seat.
I was dismissed from the stand.
As I walked back down the aisle, I didn't look at my parents. I didn't look at Grant.
May you like
I looked straight ahead. My posture perfect. My stride unbroken.
I had finished the job.
