Page 155 of The Unlikely Spare
Pierce signals for our gags to be removed.
“Eoin,” he says, and his voice carries that mentoring tone that once meant everything to me. “I’m disappointed it came to this.”
“Funny,” I spit back. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“I thought you’d be able to recognize which side you belonged on. I thought you would never forget where you came from.”
“I didn’t forget anything,” I say. “But I happen to believe in the principle of protecting the innocent, regardless of their last name or bank balance. And we have to apply that standard universally. You don’t fix injustice by creating more victims.”
Pierce sighs like I’m a particularly slow student. “One temporary inconvenience to someone who is the living embodiment of colonial wealth to bring the world’s attention toall the billions of people in countries still recovering from what his ancestors did to them.”
“Well, luckily, if it’s the world’s attention you want, you’re about to get it regardless of what you do to me,” Nicholas says.
Pierce turns to him. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
Nicholas doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shifts slightly against his restraints. I can see him studying Pierce like he’s a puzzle to solve, that sharp mind calculating exactly which pressure points to push.
“Check the news,” Nicholas says coolly. “The announcement should be going live any moment now.”
Pierce takes a step closer, his shadow falling across Nicholas’s face. “What announcement?”
“An announcement that the Royal Foundation for Colonial Reparations is being established with immediate effect.”
Pierce’s expression doesn’t change, but his hand moves unconsciously to the gun at his hip.
“It’s funded by seven billion pounds from the royal family’s personal fortune,” Nicholas continues, “with additional commitments from aristocratic families totaling twelve billion.”
The warehouse seems to hold its breath. Even the distant sound of traffic outside fades.
“There’s also going to be the establishment of a task force to look at the rest of the Crown Estate and what legislation needs to be introduced in Parliament so that the majority of that wealth can be redistributed to the victims of colonial exploitation.”
For a long moment, Pierce just stares at him.
“You’re lying,” Pierce says finally.
“I’m not. I happen to agree with the argument that if we accept that members of the royal family and other aristocratic families are allowed the privilege of enjoying wealth we didn’t create, then we should also accept any obligations around ill-gotten entitlements.”
Nicholas pauses, letting the words sink in.
“While I might not have done anything personally wrong, it can’t be denied that I benefit from the historic wrongs committed by my ancestors.” His voice softens slightly. “And my brother and Oliver Hartwell agree with me wholeheartedly.”
Pierce squints at Nicholas, who regards him with cool composure, like he’s merely debating over drinks at Oxford, not standing in a warehouse in New Zealand, looking like he robbed a lost property bin blindfolded.
The silence stretches until one of Pierce’s men finally breaks it by pulling out his phone, his fingers fumbling with the screen. His face cycles through expressions from suspicion to elation.
“It’s true,” he stammers. “Boss, you need to see this.”
He thrusts the screen in front of Pierce, and I hear Prince Callum’s American accent cutting through the warehouse’s stale air “…establishing the Royal Foundation for Colonial Reparations with an initial endowment of twelve billion pounds to be distributed to communities affected by historical injustices.”
Pierce’s hand drops from his gun as Callum’s voice continues, steady and clear. “The Crown acknowledges its role in centuries of extraction, enslavement, and cultural destruction that enriched the aristocracy of the United Kingdom at a devastating cost to other countries around the world. And we acknowledge that the descendants of those we wronged continue to suffer the economic and social consequences.”
I watch Pierce’s face as he processes this. His certainty, so absolute moments ago, has faded, and now his face is filled with doubt.
The warehouse goes silent as Callum continues to outline the framework and commitment to transparency. Then Oliver Hartwell speaks, discussing the steps they will be taking to ensure accountability and systemic change.
When the broadcast ends, Nicholas straightens as much as his bonds allow. “There. You’ve won. The acknowledgment you wanted, the funds to begin addressing historical wrongs. All without having to actually go through with an actual ransom.”
Pierce stands frozen, with the dazed look of someone watching their enemy surrender before the battle even started.
