"What's going on?"
Richard gestured toward Naomi.
"Apparently, we have another person claiming to represent Northstar."
Peter looked at her.
"Northstar?"
"That's what she says."
Peter smirked.
"Interesting."
Naomi remained silent.
She was accustomed to arrogance. She had encountered it in boardrooms, investment negotiations, airport lounges, and corporate offices where men with expensive watches confused their titles with their actual importance.
But she had not expected it to become physical.
Richard glanced at the tablet folder on the floor.
"Someone escort her outside before the real buyer arrives."
Martin stepped forward and nudged the folder with his shoe.
Then, with a deliberate kick, he sent it sliding across the concrete.
The four men laughed.
Naomi watched the folder move away.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she reached into her coat pocket, took out her black smartphone, and placed it against her ear.
"Yes," she said quietly. "Cancel the transfer."
Richard's smile disappeared.
He had no idea what those four words would cost him.
Forty-eight hours earlier, Naomi Brooks had been sitting in the executive conference room of Northstar Aviation Holdings in Manhattan.
The room occupied the thirty-second floor of a glass tower overlooking the Hudson River. Its walls were lined with framed photographs of aircraft, international airports, and the company's first private aviation investment.
Naomi sat at the head of the table.
She was thirty-six years old, the founder and chief executive officer of Northstar, and the majority shareholder of a holding company that controlled several aviation-related businesses.
Her career had not begun with private jets.
It had begun with a small office above a neighborhood accounting firm, a secondhand laptop, and a financial model she had spent six months building.
Her father, James Brooks, had worked as an aircraft maintenance engineer for nearly thirty years. He had never owned a private aircraft, never attended a luxury aviation conference, and never appeared in a business magazine.
But he understood airplanes better than many executives who owned them.
When Naomi was a child, he would bring her to the airport on weekends. They would stand behind the observation fence, watching aircraft rise into the sky.
He taught her the difference between an aircraft that looked beautiful and one that was properly maintained.
"Never trust the paint more than the maintenance records," he used to tell her.
She remembered those words long after he died.
At twenty-two, Naomi began working as a junior financial analyst for a regional aviation leasing company. She discovered that many smaller aircraft operators struggled not because they lacked customers, but because their financial structures were poorly designed.
She began developing investment proposals that connected aircraft owners with operators who needed reliable fleets.
Her first client was a struggling charter company in Ohio.
Her second was a regional medical transport operator.
Within five years, she had established Northstar Aviation Holdings.
The company initially focused on aircraft leasing and maintenance financing. Later, it expanded into private aviation, airport infrastructure, and fleet management.
Naomi had built it carefully.
She did not spend money simply to appear wealthy. She did not attend every industry gala. She rarely gave interviews.
When journalists asked why she avoided the spotlight, she gave the same answer.
"I prefer people to remember the work rather than the person signing the documents."
Her company had eventually become one of the largest independent investors in its segment of the American aviation market.
That success brought attention, but Naomi remained selective about whom she allowed into her inner circle.
Her chief financial officer, Daniel Mercer, had worked beside her for eight years. Her general counsel, Elizabeth Carter, had helped structure the company's most important acquisitions.
And her director of aviation operations, Samuel Reed, had once worked alongside her father.
They were not simply employees.
They were the people who understood why she had built Northstar in the first place.
On that Tuesday morning, Daniel placed a thick folder in front of her.
"The Sterling agreement is ready for final execution."
Naomi opened it.
The transaction involved fourteen business jets, associated maintenance facilities, spare-parts inventory, hangar leases, and a long-term service arrangement.
The total purchase price was $770 million.
Northstar would acquire the assets through a newly established subsidiary, Northstar Fleet Partners.
Sterling Aerospace Group would receive the payment through an escrow arrangement once all conditions were satisfied.
Daniel pointed toward a section near the end.
"The final inspection certificates are attached. The legal team has reviewed the title documents. Their board approved the agreement yesterday."
Naomi turned another page.
"What about the maintenance records?"
"That's where things become less comfortable."
Daniel opened his laptop.
A spreadsheet appeared on the conference room screen.
"During the preliminary review, our technical team identified discrepancies in three aircraft maintenance histories."
Naomi leaned forward.
"Explain."
"Two aircraft have incomplete engine service documentation. The third appears to have received a replacement component that isn't reflected in the final maintenance database."
"How significant?"
"Potentially serious. We don't yet know whether it's an administrative problem or something deliberately concealed."
Naomi closed the folder.
"Did Sterling explain?"
"They said the records were being consolidated after a software migration."