Plea deal
Chapter 136: Plea deal
AUTHOR POV
The world around Smith Cole was crumbling. Politicians who once shook his hand in private meetings were now scrambling to erase any connection to him.
Some fled the country entirely, disappearing into private jets with hastily packed bags, their families already on their way to safe havens overseas.
George Ramsey, one of Smith’s closest allies, wiped the sweat off his brow as he rushed through a VIP airport terminal.
“Where’s the damn pilot?” he snapped at his assistant, his hands trembling as he checked his watch.
“He’s preparing the jet, sir. But…”
“No buts! We need to be out of here in ten minutes!”
The assistant hesitated. “Sir, the feds are looking into your accounts. If you leave now, it’ll…”
“Shut up and do as you’re told!” George Ramsey barked before marching toward the boarding gate.
Across the city, others were making similar escapes. Some tried bribing their way out of investigations, while others resigned from their government positions, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But it was too late. Greg Evans had already put his plan into motion, and there was no running from it now.
While the corrupt officials fled, Greg was handling another issue in his own way.
In an abandoned building on the outskirts of town, the men who had gunned down John Evans sat tied to chairs, bruised and bloody. Their heads hung low, but their eyes flickered with fear whenever Greg stepped closer.
One of them, a man with a scarred face and busted lip, groaned. “We already told you…we were just following orders.”
Greg scoffed. “That’s the second time someone has said that today. You think that makes it better?” He crouched in front of them, his expression unreadable. “You took my brother’s life. Did you think I’d just let you rot in a cell and call it justice?”
The other man, breathing heavily through a broken nose, muttered, “We didn’t have a choice.”
Greg’s fist connected with his jaw before he could say another word. “Wrong answer.”
The room fell silent except for the sound of heavy breathing and muffled groans.
Greg stood up, rolling his shoulders. “You’re going to jail. And if you want to live long enough to get out, you’re going to make a deal with the police.”
The men exchanged uneasy glances.
“You testify against Smith Cole,” Greg continued, “and maybe, maybe, you’ll make it out of this alive.”
One of them licked his split lip, hesitation written all over his face. “And if we don’t?”
Greg smirked. “Then you won’t have to worry about a prison sentence.”
The message was clear.
Hours later, the men were turned over to the authorities. Under heavy police pressure and a not-so-subtle warning from Greg, they agreed to a plea deal. They would testify against Smith Cole in exchange for reduced sentences.
**********************************
“What if I have the original documents?” The doors opened revealing a very much alive Ethan.
Ethan Blake strode inside, carrying a thick folder in his hand, his expression unreadable.
Mia barely had time to process what she was seeing, she moved, her breath hitching, and then she passed out.
The courtroom erupted into chaos and remained unsettled after Mia fainted, but the judge wasted no time restoring order. Sophie and Cecilia carried Mia out with a few medical personnel following behind, but Ethan stayed.
Smith Cole sat stiffly in his chair, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, his jaw tight as he eyed Ethan like he was staring at a ghost. His lawyer, Mark leaned toward him, whispering something, but Smith barely reacted. The sudden reappearance of Ethan had thrown him off balance, but he refused to show weakness.
Greg, on the other hand, was in full control. He exchanged a quick glance with Ethan before turning back toward the witness stand, where one of John Evans’ killers was about to testify.
A man named Marcus Lyle took the stand. He was one of the gunmen responsible for John’s murder, and after hours of Greg’s “persuasion” and a plea deal with the authorities, he had agreed to testify against Smith Cole. His face was still swollen from Greg’s previous interrogation, and his hands shook slightly as he was sworn in.
Greg’s lawyer, Richard stepped forward, “State your full name for the record.”
“Marcus Lyle.”
“Mr. Lyle, can you tell the court who ordered the attack on John Evans?”
Marcus swallowed, his eyes darting toward Smith, who glared at him from across the courtroom. He hesitated for a moment, but then he let out a shaky breath.
“It was Smith Cole,” he admitted. “He gave the order.”
Murmurs erupted in the courtroom then the judge banged his gavel.
Richard nodded. “And how exactly did you receive this order?”
“I was called in for a meeting at one of his clubs. Smith was there with a few other guys, his top men. He said there was a problem that needed to be handled, that John Evans and Ethan Blake were becoming a threat and we needed to kill them and get the documents they had.”
Richard walked closer to Marcus. “You said you were supposed to take the documents. Do you know what they contained?”
Marcus nodded slowly. “We looked into the document when we got a hold of it because we didn't trust him. It contained proof that Smith was running illegal operations, racketeering, money laundering, even human trafficking. John had evidence, and he was going to expose it. That’s why Smith wanted him gone.”
Gasps echoed in the courtroom.
Smith leaned over to his lawyer, his face dark with rage. “This is bullshit,” he hissed under his breath.
Mark, however, remained calm. He stood, buttoning his suit and approached the stand.
Mark smiled at Marcus, but there was no warmth in it.
“Mr. Lyle, you are currently facing multiple charges, correct?”
Marcus stiffened. “Yeah.”
“And in exchange for your testimony, you are receiving a reduced sentence, correct?”
Marcus glanced at Greg for a split second before answering. “Yes.”
Mark turned to the jury. “So, to be clear, you are a criminal, a murderer, and you are only testifying because it benefits you. Isn’t that right?”
Marcus clenched his jaw but didn’t respond.
Mark pressed further. “Tell me, Mr. Lyle, do you have any physical proof that my client gave this so-called order? Any recordings? Text messages? A signed contract, perhaps?”
Marcus hesitated. “No, but…”
“No further questions.” Mark turned away, smirking slightly. He knew he had planted doubt in the jury’s mind.
The next witness was the second shooter, Kevin Brooks, who had also accepted a plea deal. He confirmed Marcus’s testimony, further implicating Smith.
Greg watched carefully as the second round of cross-examinations took place. Mark tried the same tactics, painting Kevin as an unreliable criminal, pointing out his plea deal, and questioning the lack of hard evidence directly linking Smith to the murder.
But Greg had one last card to play. Just as the judge was about to call for recess, Ethan stood up.
“I have something the court needs to see,” he announced.
All eyes turned to him.
Smith’s expression finally cracked. His face went pale as Ethan pulled a folder from his bag.
“The original documents John Evans died for,” Ethan declared.
The judge adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Blake, approach the bench.”
Ethan walked forward, handing the judge the documents. The courtroom fell into an eerie silence as the judge scanned them.
Greg leaned forward slightly, watching Smith’s reaction. The man was gripping the table so hard his knuckles had gone white.
After what felt like an eternity, the judge looked up.
“These documents appear legitimate. We will resume after a short recess to review their authenticity.” Then he banged his gavel.
Smith’s lawyer turned to him with concern. “We might have a problem, I thought you said you had the document?”
Smith didn’t respond.
He just sat there, watching Ethan, his mind racing. If those documents were real, then the document he got hold of was just a copy. This wasn’t just about John Evans’ murder anymore. This could bring down everything he had worked so hard for—he had killed so many for.