As the chairman of Northrop Grumman, he certainly had the clout to back up the promises he had just made. For instance, dealing with the media frenzy outside Castle's estate was entirely within his capability. While he couldn't outright remove every reporter swarming the gates, as one of the largest arms manufacturers in the United States, he could easily reach out to the executives behind the major media conglomerates and drop subtle hints—or not-so-subtle warnings—that the coverage of Castle needed to die down. The result? At least 80% of the current media circus would vanish overnight.
On his to-do list, he had already decided to address the internal failures in his company. Specifically, he planned to "clean house" within Northrop Grumman's board of directors, targeting those post-war nouveau riche factions that had meddled with company policy and caused the rift with Castle. It was these fools who had alienated their most lucrative asset—Castle, the proverbial goose that lays golden eggs. The losses this time far outweighed whatever profits the company had gleaned from siding with the Japanese during that ill-advised defense contract debacle.
Before Castle could respond, the Lockheed Martin CEO, who had been silently observing with a smirk, couldn't resist the opportunity to throw shade at his rival.
"Oh, give me a break. Promising that the same mistake won't happen again? Did your board care about Castle's status as your largest private shareholder when they sided with the Japanese back then? Did they even think for a second about his position?
"And now, Castle has been attacked twice—yesterday and today—by operatives connected to those same 'little guys' you supported. Do you honestly think Castle will ever trust your company again?
"Castle," he continued, turning to him with a grin, "Lockheed Martin is different. We and the California consortium are eager to build a strong, enduring relationship with you. If you license or sell this technology to us, I can guarantee you'll be more than satisfied with what you get in return."
Castle couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of these two titans of industry sniping at each other.
"Gentlemen," he interrupted, his voice dripping with amusement, "how many times do I need to say this? This system is still a prototype. It's incomplete. I can't even say when it'll be fully operational. Yes, last night's and this morning's incidents were frustrating, but they're being handled by the NYPD and the FBI now. I'm not worried about that anymore.
"As for both of your companies wanting this technology? Didn't I already say? You'll both have the chance to bid for licensing when the time comes. But don't bring up the idea of exclusive licensing again—I'm not interested, and I don't know how to navigate that sort of deal. Today, gentlemen, I'd prefer not to continue this discussion. When the technology is complete, feel free to have your lawyers and business teams contact my legal and business advisors."
With that, Castle turned away from the two scowling executives and addressed the three military officers.
"You came here to verify the authenticity of this technology, and you've seen enough to do so. I'll reach out to you again as soon as the system is finalized. But for now, I need to attend to the attempted attack outside my home. Please excuse me."
Without waiting for a response, Castle strode away, leaving behind the three factions staring at one another. He wasn't the type to bow to their demands—especially not when he was the one holding all the cards. After all, the technology they coveted so badly was in his hands.
Moreover, Beckett's voice was already crackling in his earpiece, informing him that the Coast Guard and FBI had successfully captured the four Japanese "terrorists" at sea. The thought of West Coast yakuza assisting Watanabe's failed assault was enraging. If Castle didn't retaliate, his status as an untouchable member of the upper echelon would come into question.
This wasn't just about revenge—it was about preserving his image. In the world of America's elite, perception was everything. Allowing himself to be attacked twice without retribution would mark him as weak, an easy target. And in a society where respect was tied directly to power and wealth, such a reputation could prove disastrous.
Whether through legal channels or the sheer force of his immense wealth, Castle was determined to make the West Coast yakuza pay. He needed to send a message to everyone: messing with him came at a high cost. Retaliation wasn't just an option; it was a necessity. Among the American elite, vindictiveness wasn't a flaw—it was a survival skill.
The three Pentagon officers watched Castle leave without protest. They had other matters to discuss—matters that would require the attention of both Northrop and Lockheed. After all, the completion of Castle's technology would inevitably favor one of these companies. The Pentagon officers had a vested interest in ensuring their favored supplier came out on top.
Castle, meanwhile, knew exactly what was happening behind his back. His successful demonstration of the cloaking technology had solidified his position. As long as the technology remained in his hands, he could dictate the terms of the game. He wasn't about to waste his time catering to corporate egos.
Instead, he had a perfectly valid excuse to leave. He had been attacked on his own property—twice in two days. That fact alone justified his absence from the ongoing corporate negotiations.
As for Northrop and Lockheed, Castle bore no illusions about their motivations. Northrop's chairman wanted to salvage the company's strained relationship with Castle, while Lockheed's CEO saw an opportunity to secure a massive competitive advantage. Their rivalry was Castle's leverage.
The real truth behind Castle's repeated insistence that the cloaking system wasn't ready was a convenient lie. The technology was practically complete. The key components—its programming and energy requirements—were challenges easily overcome with the resources Castle had at his disposal.
However, Castle wasn't ready to negotiate just yet. He wanted to see how much Northrop and Lockheed were willing to offer. How deep were their pockets? How far were they willing to go to secure exclusive rights?
And then there was the matter of the West Coast yakuza. They had dared to challenge him, and Castle had no intention of letting that slide. By dealing with this threat decisively, he could not only secure his own reputation but also create an opportunity to extract even more from the two aerospace giants. After all, both companies had promised him "unwavering support" in exchange for his favor. Now it was time to see if they would deliver.
Outside the estate, chaos reigned. The reporters had gone into a frenzy upon learning that four of the suspected attackers had been captured alive. While last night's mercenaries had left no survivors, today's operation had yielded a rare opportunity for interviews and exclusive scoops.
Some of the more informed journalists were already piecing together connections between the morning's attack, last night's assault, and the mass purge of Japanese intelligence operatives that had occurred over the Christmas holidays in New York. The implications were staggering.
This was shaping up to be the story of the year. A high-profile author-turned-arms-developer targeted in a series of deadly attacks, with ties to international intrigue? It was a journalist's dream—a juicy scoop that could dominate headlines for weeks.
Castle knew he had to make an appearance at the gate. If the press was going to run wild with this story, he needed to control the narrative. Letting them speculate without any input from him would only lead to chaos. Besides, a public statement could serve as the perfect opportunity to further solidify his position—both as a victim of these attacks and as a force to be reckoned with.
(End of Chapter)
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