Page 71 of King's Reckoning
Laughter broke the room's remaining tension as leaders began discussing both security matters and wedding details. Rowan watched them work together smoothly, old rivals becoming true allies. Another of Elena's careful plans bearing unexpected fruit.
"Speaking of security," Barbara interrupted, her tone drawing immediate attention. "We need to discuss Blackwood's employers. Based on communications we intercepted, they're already spreading word about the legal failures. Warningother interested corporations not to waste resources trying to contest these land claims."
She displayed intercepted messages between corporate offices and funding organizations. The legal language couldn't hide their growing panic as claim after claim collapsed under Rowan's authenticated documentation.
"They're realizing the extent of what Elena created," Barbara explained. "Not just a way to invalidate existing land grabs, but a permanent deterrent against anyone trying to forge new ones. The legal precedent has become self-sustaining within the corporate world itself."
"Good," Rowan said firmly, studying the increasingly desperate communications. "Let them show everyone proof that these lands can't be stolen. That trying will only result in automatic legal defeat."
"Not everyone will believe it," Reed pointed out, years of tactical experience evident in his voice. "Some will think they can find ways around the historical documentation. Will keep trying despite the evidence."
"Let them try." Rowan's smile held dangerous edges as she studied Barbara's data. The scrolling failure reports showed Elena's legal strategy working exactly as designed, invalidating corporate claims at their most fundamental level. "Mom made sure any attempt to forge counterclaims would fail automatically. Made meinto someone who permanently invalidates their basic operating principles."
She felt Reed's arms tighten slightly, offering silent support as she processed implications. Elena hadn't just used Blackwood's research to protect her daughter. She'd turned Rowan into a permanent guardian of ancestral lands. Had used carefully documented heritage to ensure corporate greed could never threaten anyone again.
"We'll need to maintain surveillance," King said practically, already outlining patrol schedules and monitoring protocols. "Keep watching for anyone trying to restart forgery programs. But..." He met Rowan's eyes with quiet pride. "They'll fail. Elena made sure of that when she gave you the ability to protect these lands permanently."
Barbara's screens showed new data as more systems nationwide reported legal failures. The defense strategy was spreading faster now, invalidating corporate claims with increasing speed as Elena's carefully designed documentation propagated through connected networks.
"The legal challenges are achieving exactly what she intended," the professor reported, highlighting specific metrics. "Complete protection of indigenous rights at a fundamental level. Even attempting to rebuild basic counterclaims triggers immediate invalidation."
"Which means we can focus on other priorities," Reed added softly. His thumb traced patterns on her palm as Tiffany began distributingincreasingly elaborate wedding planning materials. "Like building something new instead of just protecting against threats."
Rowan watched the strange tableau before her—hardened MC leaders debating both tactical operations and wedding color schemes with equal intensity. Former rivals planning security protocols between arguments about proper motorcycle formations for the ceremony.
Cole and his Iron Fists coordinating with King's Chosen on escort details while discussing floral arrangements. King and Barbara integrating surveillance systems with chapel decorations. All of them working together seamlessly, old boundaries forgotten in service of both protection and celebration.
"I know that look," Reed murmured, his hand finding hers beneath the table. "You're thinking about legalities and documentation again. About everything Elena built into your heritage."
"Just realizing something Mom never factored into her plans," Rowan replied softly. "How choosing love over legal precision would create something far more valuable than carefully authenticated documents or legal precedents."
Across the room, Tiffany waved elaborate ceremony diagrams, while Cole offered surprisingly thoughtful suggestions about wedding party formations. King and Barbara paused their security planning to debate proper chapeldecorations that wouldn't interfere with surveillance equipment.
"Come on," Reed said, pulling her toward the increasingly animated wedding discussions. His eyes held both love and laughter. "Think you can handle both authenticated documentation and seating chart decisions? Both legal precedents and color scheme coordination?"
Rowan's laugh echoed through the chapel, a sound of pure joy that would have baffled the lawyer who had so carefully prepared her evidence. Some variables simply couldn't be calculated. Some reactions couldn't be predicted by even the most precise legal strategy.
Some legacies were built on love rather than litigation. Were measured in family rather than formalities.
Those were the ones worth protecting. Worth celebrating.
Worth living for.
The explosion ripped through the abandoned corporate records facility at exactly midnight, turning decades of Blackwood's forged documentation into ash and rubble.
Rowan watched through thermal imaging as the carefully placed charges reduced document processing equipment to slag, erasing every trace of counterfeit land claim evidence from the site. From her position on the overlooking ridge, the destruction painted stark orange patterns against the night sky, each detonation sequence precisely timed to maximize structural collapse while minimizing external damage.
"Demolition teams report complete structural collapse," Reed said through the comms discretely tucked inside her ears. His voice carried the satisfaction of a well-executed operation. "No salvageable equipment remaining. Iron Fists crew confirms total destruction of the main document archives."
"Make it seventeen," Barbara added from the mobile command center, her screens showing real-time analysis of the destruction. "Seventeen facilities permanently decommissioned in the past week alone. Between the physical destruction and the legal precedent challenges, Blackwood's forgery operation is being systematically erased from existence."
Her displays painted a compelling picture—cascading legal failures across multiple sites as Rowan's authenticated documents continued invalidating corporate forgery protocols. The documentation shield had spread rapidly, moving through connected corporate networks faster than anyone had anticipated.
"Thermal scans confirm critical temperature reached in primary archive areas," a King's Chosen demolition expert reported. "All forgery components should be completely degraded beyond recovery potential."
Rowan studied the elaborate dance of demolition teams completing their work below. Iron Fists members coordinated with King's Chosen crews, their movements precise and practiced after multiple operations together. No sign remained of their former rivalry, just smooth efficiency as they eliminated dangerous corporate evidence.
The night vision feed showed teams moving with military precision, placing secondary charges at key structural points. Each explosion was carefully calculated to look like an industrial accident rather than a coordinated strike. Thealliance had gotten very good at making their work appear random and unconnected.
