Judge Halloran took a short recess and returned before noon. She summarized the evidence carefully, emphasizing that the court was making a preliminary decision about emergency relief rather than issuing a final judgment on every allegation raised. The acquisition documents had not been shown to be fraudulent, and the court found that the evidence presented did not support continuing the restrictions on Carter Meridian's voting rights. She dissolved the temporary restraining order, restoring the normal effect of the completed transaction and the board's executed nomination agreement.
"I am also concerned about the accuracy of the original affidavit and the circumstances under which it was prepared," she said. "Those matters may require separate proceedings and referral through the appropriate channels. This ruling does not decide criminal liability. Counsel will preserve the relevant records and comply with any further lawful process."
Silas closed his eyes and nodded faintly. Warren's lawyer gathered his papers without looking toward his client, and Warren remained motionless, staring at the space between his hands. The man from the federal contracting office left quietly, having taken notes on the allegations relevant to his own work. No one was arrested in the courtroom, and no judge pronounced the company's wider problems solved.
For Daniel, the ruling mattered for a simpler reason. He could return to Summit as a lawful executive chairman without asking the court to overlook evidence or procedure. The work waiting for him there was much larger than the confrontation he had won, but for the first time since Tuesday morning, Warren could no longer use an emergency court order to decide who was allowed to question him.
By twelve thirty, Summit's directors were back in the fortieth-floor boardroom. The city outside looked unchanged, sunlight glinting from office windows and taxis moving below like bright beads through narrow channels. Inside, nothing felt unchanged. Eleanor Whitcomb began by reading the court's order into the record, then asked independent counsel to confirm the board's present authority and the procedural requirements for reviewing Warren Ashdown's position.
All ten directors had been notified. Victor Salter, who had cast the lone vote against Warren's suspension on Thursday, sat near the window with his hands locked around a fountain pen. He had defended Warren for years, often citing the CEO's role in securing Summit's earliest large contracts. Now he had seen the visitor-screening evidence, heard the court's account of the false affidavit, and read the emails linking screening scores to procurement decisions.
"I'm not here to revise history," Victor said when Eleanor invited comments. "Warren helped this business grow. Some of us, including me, let that fact excuse things that should never have been excused. If we were willing to praise him when the numbers were good, we must also be willing to ask what those numbers concealed."
Daniel was surprised by the admission. Victor did not ask for forgiveness or present himself as a victim of deception. He simply acknowledged that he had used loyalty as a substitute for judgment. The room was quiet as independent counsel reviewed the motion to remove Warren as chief executive for cause under the applicable governance provisions, subject to his contractual rights and any further process that might be required.
Eleanor called the vote. Ten hands rose, including Victor's. The result was unanimous, ten to zero, and Warren Ashdown ceased to hold executive authority at Summit Dynamics. Daniel felt no rush of triumph, only the exhaustion that follows a conflict whose outcome has required far more from the witnesses than anyone expected.