Face sat quiet and still, only occasionally reaching for his water glass, or to whisper something to Gloria. Watching Face, it was easy to tell that he was completely unaffected by what Bradley was selling to the men and women inside the courtroom. All of it was a circus-act that barely held Face's interest.
Vincent Bradley walked over to the twelve members of the jury and dramatically paused. After a long sigh, he turned towards Face and pointed, "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, that man!, Mr. Norman Smith Junior, also known as 'Black Scarface', is a mastermind criminal!," he all but yelled out.
"Mr. Bradley, this courtroom is not a stage, therefore your theatrics is uncalled for. Let this be a warning," Judge Marino interrupted.
"I'm sorry, Your Honor," he replied in a tone that indicated he couldn't care less about this courtroom. It was his stage and he was going to shine when he got a chance! "His multi-faceted organization is responsible for the cold blooded murders of State Prosecutors, lawyers, police officers, rival drug dealers, innocent women and children, and anyone else who got in his way to the top! Please don't be fooled by his calm nature. That man sitting there," he continued to point, "is a ruthless criminal that I intend to expose to everyone inside this courtroom!"
After Mr. Bradley finished his opening statement, it was Gloria’s turn. Though she stood only five feet and five inches tall, in the courtroom she was a giant. She had mastered the
art of vocal inflection to get the most revealing reaction from a jury or a witness. With a single glance she was able to completely disarm the most vicious prosecutor the government had to offer.
To date, this was the biggest case of her career. It was known as a career maker, or a career breaker. She knew that the stakes were astronomically high, but she was prepared to
offer the very best defense.
Gloria stood up from her seat and looked around the stunned courtroom. After Mr. Bradley's opening statements she decided to take a slightly different approach. She calmly approached the twelve jurors and pleasantly smiled, and took the time to make eye contact with each and every one of them. She applauded their courage for agreeing to take part in this trial, praising their ability to look at all the facts involved in the case, and thanked them, in advance, for not making decisions based on theatrics.
Gloria spoke to the jurors as if they were her brothers and sisters. As she spoke to them, Vincent Bradley slouched more and more from each word that came out of her mouth. She didn't try to attack any of the government's evidence. Rather, she explained how the government has the ability to 'come up with' and 'create' evidence to fit any person or crime they wanted. She pointed at the jurors one by one telling them that any one of them could be in Norman Smith, Jr.'s position.
She went on to paint a vivid picture of harassment and dishonesty; dropping little details along the way about the jurors lives…details that she received from her own private investigators. She might say to the jurors some analogy about being a waitress and having somebody steal your tips, knowing full well that two of the jurors were waitresses.
There was something for all of them. Gloria wasn't fighting the prosecution, she was slowly developing friends…comrades against the over-reaching power and viciousness of the machine; Big Brother! The United States Government! She would worry about fighting the case's particular elements one witness at a time. But, in her opening statement she just wanted thirteen new friends; 12 jurors and 1 Federal judge.
CHAPTER 96
Three weeks later...
For three weeks the prosecution brought in a few evidential witnesses to build their mountain of evidence against Face. These included two of the arresting officers, a DEA agent, and an investigator from the U.S. Treasury department. Gloria cross examined them, doing the best she could to subtly call their integrity into question. She had a way of making a witness doubt himself and his evidence, even when he was a so called 'expert'. It wasn't as much as what she said, but instead, it was the way she said it.
As for Face he had remained calm and collective throughout all the proceedings. Every day he walked into the crowded courtroom dressed in a brand new suit and a pair of alligator skin shoes, waving and smiling at his family and friends. He was a man who refused to let his enemies see him sweat or break under pressure. Some people would call it being 'cocky' or 'arrogant', but anyone who really knew him associated his demeanor with confidence.
With all the national media attention that the trial received, Face became known as somewhat of a celebrity. And every day, it seemed like a new website was popping up on the internet sensationalizing him and the case. Because of his handsome looks and 'bad-boy' image, Face was growing quite popular with women. It had turned into a media circus, exactly what the government wanted, to expose Face and his criminal organization to all of America.
After Judge Marino called for a brief recess, Face was escorted to a small holding cell in the back of the courtroom. As he sat on the bench waiting for the trial to resume, Agents
McDonald and Powaski approached the cell. Face looked at the two agents and smiled.
"Laugh now you son of a bitch, but you're going down!" Powaski said. "And then we'll get the last laugh when you're ass is doing a life sentence in federal prison!"
Face didn't respond to the agents threats and goading. Rather, he just sat there grinning the entire time.
"We know you had something to do with Knuckles and his girlfriend being killed. You might fool all your female admirers, but we know you're nothing but a low-life thug! And
sooner or later all of your games will come to an end!" McDonald fumed. "You're a cold hearted coward and I hate everything you stand for!" he added angrily.
McDonald reached under his shirt and pulled out a loaded glock .9mm. He aimed the weapon at Face's head and said, "I should kill your ass right now!" he threatened.
Face sat there calm and unflinching. He never blinked.
When McDonald heard someone coming from behind them, he quickly put the gun back under his shirt.
"Is everything okay here?" Gloria asked as she approached the cell with one of the court’s deputies.
Face calmly stood up from the bench and walked over to the cell door, "Yeah, Gloria, everything is just fine here. These nice agents came by to tell me how much they like my new
suit," Face said with a big grin.
Gloria and Face watched as the two agents angrily turned and walked away. She knew that there was a lot more to it, but she refused to ask him about it.
After Face was released from the holding cell, he and Gloria were escorted back into the courtroom.
Later that evening...
After another long tedious day at trial, Gloria returned back to her elegant suite at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. Today had been another verbal battle with U.S. Attorney Vincent L. Bradley, and she was relieved that it was finally over. After taking a hot soothing shower, she put on her panties and a long white tee-shirt. Then she called her husband back at home in New York. After a brief conversation on the phone they said their 'I love yous’ and hung up.
Gloria laid back on the big comfortable bed. Her laptop, cell phone, and a small stack of legal paperwork were lying right beside her. She knew that tomorrow would be another
long and drawn out day in court. She also knew that she would have to cross-examine the government's list of 'expert' witnesses that were prepped and ready for their day at trial.
So far the trial wasn't turning out to be anything like she had planned. The government did everything it had to do to win its case. And deep down inside, Gloria felt as if she
were trapped inside the middle of a losing battle, but she refused to back down and throw in the towel. Not only was Gloria fighting in the case of her life, but she was secretly fighting for the man she still deeply loved and cared about.
After a brief rest she sat up and placed the laptop between her legs, moments later she was back at work, typing on the keyboard, getting herself ready for another long day at tr
ial.
Washington, D.C...
"Vincent, you're doing a wonderful job. And like I promised you, after the trial you'll be greatly rewarded for your work," C.W. Watson said into the phone.
"Thanks Senator. So far, things are looking in our favor. And I haven't even used our key witness yet. Tomorrow morning I'll be bringing in the FBI’s top voice specialist.
He has all the documents to verify that the two voices on the FBI’s recorded conversation is indeed Roberto Chevez and Norman Smith, Junior. And there is no way that the defense can get around it," Vincent said with excitement.
"Good work, Vincent!" C.W. said as he stood from his desk and walked over to look out the window. "How about when this is all over, we suit up and go do a little hunting?"
"I would really like that, Sir. Just let me know when you're ready," Vincent replied with a smirk.
"I sure will. Besides we'll need some time to talk alone. Especially about the new position you'll be getting," C.W. said as he stared out the window. "Just continue to keep me updated on everything that's going on in the trial."
"I will, Sir. I'll call you tomorrow evening. Take care."
"Goodbye, Vincent," C.W. said before closing his cell phone.
After a sigh C.W. turned from the window and walked back over to his desk. He grabbed his jacket and black briefcase then headed for the door.
Once he was outside of his office, he smiled as he walked down the long empty corridor with the sounds of his footsteps echoing down the hall.
CHAPTER 97
Over a month had gone by and now the government was finally ready to bring in the first of their four key witnesses. In prior weeks, the government had brought in a long list of expert witnesses to help them with their case. And Gloria was ready for them all. Every time the government would put one of their expert witnesses on the stand, Gloria would counter attack with a cross-examination.
With every new day, the case became more and more intense. On a few occasions Judge Marino, had to pull both lawyers to the side and warn them about their verbal insults. The trial
had turned into a personal battle. And now so much was on the line that neither one of them wanted to be on the losing end of what was surely the biggest case of their lives.
All of the whispers that were going on inside the courtroom came to an abrupt stop when the doors opened. Every eye in the room was focused on the government's witness, Roberto Chevez. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a white polo shirt he slowly walked forward. Every step he took was visibly more unsteady than the last. At any moment he expected someone to appear from the crowd, with a gun and mow him down. As he walked, his eyes nervously darted back and forth. He noticed a man in a black shirt that looked strangely out of place. He continued the uneasy walk toward the witness stand and breathed a sigh of relief when he approached it. Looking back into the crowd, the strange man was no longer there.
Before he knew it, his right hand was raised and the bailiff was swearing him in. As he sat, Vincent Bradley approached him with a look of confidence.
"Can you please state your full name for the record and so everyone in the courtroom knows who you are?"
"Roberto Chevez," he said, as he leaned into the microphone.
"Mr. Chevez, can you please tell us what you do for a living?"
Roberto answered just like they had practiced many times, "I made my living as a narcotics trafficker for the Gomez drug cartel."
"And where is the Gomez drug cartel located?" Mr. Bradley said as he turned away from the witness stand and looked at the jury.
"Nicaragua," Roberto stated.
"Mr. Chevez, in your business dealings did you ever come in contact with Mr. Norman Smith, Junior?"
"Yes, all the time," Roberto answered.
"Is he present in the courtroom? And if he is, please point him out?"
"Yes, that's him. The black guy in the nice suit," Roberto answered dropping his shoulders, as he raised his hand and pointed an accusing and trembling finger directly at Face.
There were a few chuckles around the courtroom, and Bradley continued to ask question after question. By the time it was all said and done the courtroom was completely silent. Roberto
had spilled his guts. He talked about the inner workings of the Gomez drug organization and explained how the whole process worked, from the farmers who grew the coca plant and how they processed it and made it into the finished product. On maps, Roberto pointed out where the coca plant was grown in Nicaragua and he told the routes that were taken to fool the DEA and customs agents when the drugs were smuggled into the United States. He went into detail about the distribution network that was in place in the United States and how drugs were turned into lots of money. Lots and lots of money! He even went as far as explaining how drug proceeds were laundered.
The testimony of Roberto Chevez was like a nuclear bomb to the defense. So much damage had been done that Gloria just shook her head, turned to Face and said four words, "That really hurt us!"
When Mr. Bradley had finally finished questioning the witness, he walked back to his seat with a big smile plastered all over his face. With Robert's statement, Gloria knew her task had become that much harder. Since the start of the trial his testimony was the most damaging.
In her brief cross-examination, Gloria attacked Roberto's character. She also exposed his motive for testifying against Face. Her cross examination skills were powerful and poignant. Still, deep inside her soul, Gloria knew that it wouldn't be enough. Roberto Chevez's testimony put Face in a deeper hole and Gloria knew it would take a miracle to pull him out of it. What was even worse for the defense, the government still had three additional key witnesses prepared to testify against Face.
After the trial had ceased for the day, everyone left the courthouse. Two U.S. Marshals escorted Face back to the Federal Detention Center, while all of his family and friends sadly got into their cars and headed for their homes. When Face entered his cell he walked over and sat down on his bunk. His mind began to race with thoughts as he reviewed the day’s developments. Roberto's testimony made his chances of winning the case so much more difficult. And Face knew that things weren't looking good for him.
Then, an image of Roberto Chevez entered his mind and a big smile came across his face. Like always, Face was two steps ahead of his enemies. Roberto Chevez's slap in the face would
be nothing compared to what Face had planned for him.
Chestnut Hill...
Inside Pamela's beautiful new home she and Veronica sat on the couch and was totally engrossed in a serious conversation.
"We gotta send the letters and the disc out, now!" Pamela said, as tears fell from her eyes. "Roberto Chevez really hurt Face’s case in court today," she added.
Veronica reached out and grabbed Pamela's trembling hands. "Okay, Pam, I'll start getting everything ready," she said tearfully. "Lord, I hope this don't backfire," she added.
Pamela stared deep into Veronica's watery eyes and said, "The only way to find out is to send them. Right now my son is in a lot of trouble and it don't look as if things will be changing anytime soon. The discs are all we got. Now, we just gotta pray that they help'em and don't hurt'em!"
When Veronica left the house, Pam watched as she stepped inside her Mercedes and drove off. After closing the door she sadly walked over and sat back down on the couch. As she
thought about Face, tears of hurt and pain escaped from the confines of her hazel eyes.
Downtown Philadelphia...
Quincy was waiting outside the entrance/exit tunnel, where law enforcement personnel traveled through the secure parking garage under the courthouse. He knew that at any moment an armored plated, Lincoln Town Car would leave with two FBI agents in the front and one, Roberto Chevez, tensely sitting on the back seat. He figured the only vehicle leaving would be
the Town Car with Mr. Chevez in it, because he had just finished giving his testimony.
Quincy knew the vehicle, because hou
rs earlier, he had waited and saw the Town Car when it first arrived at the Federal Courthouse. He remembered Mr. Chevez looking like most other 'snitches' on their way to testify; nervous, anxious, scared and confused.
Some static came over Quincy's walkie-talkie and then a static voice said, "One here. What's up?"
Quincy put the walkie-talkie to his face and said, "stand by for a minute. They comin'."
As the words escaped his mouth, the dark gray Town Car slowly pulled out and drove in the flow of traffic. It turned right, and proceeded down a one way street.
"I got 'em! It's a dark gray Lincoln Town Car. License plate number, USG-372. Give them three or four blocks and then box them in."
"One here," a voice said. "I'm passing you right now. I'll stay on his bumper."
"Two here. I’m one block south. Let me know if he turns," a deeper voice said.
"Three here. I got the east covered."
"Four here. I got the west."
Quincy nodded proudly to himself. The four tinted vans were waiting in every direction, there was no way the Feds could escape the 'hit-teams' net.
"He's going east! He's going east!" a voice said.
"Three here, I see them. I'll jump a couple of cars behind."
Quincy was making his way slowly back through traffic, relying on his men to be his eyes. "Okay, listen," he said carefully. "Don't get on their bumper. Wait until four and two catches up. You guys know the drill."
Three blocks later the Town Car passed a McDonald's restaurant and an old looking van slammed on the breaks in front of them.
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