Finally knocked the second part of that alternate future mini-arc on the head. For those who missed the first part: [hider=Better Get a Lawyer, Son. Part 1][COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][i]Edgar Martinez's face was pressed hard against the hot hood of the cruiser which had absorbed the late day's April sun. His hands already sore from the tight cuffs. That mild pain wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry. Edgar's head had been positioned so he could watch the whole process of the seizure taking place, in full glory. Bag after bag of tightly wrapped white powder was removed from the car by the other New Mexico trooper, after initial photographs. [color=antiquewhite]"Aww, maaaaan."[/color] [color=gainsboro]"It would seem you're in a whooole mess-a trouble, young man..."[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"Wha-- what am I gonna do? This is crazy, man..."[/color] [color=gainsboro]"What are you gonna do..? Well, we already mirandized you, son... but it would seem you [url=https://open.spotify.com/track/5QC5Lb562S9wpA9ubJa7GO?si=jAvaLNBsRFWdBBkVBjf7kA]Better Get A Lawyer[/url], son. You better get a reeeeal good one."[/color] [/i] [/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][CENTER][img]https://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27900000/Alex-alex-pettyfer-27913840-500-238.gif[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Lock Up, Albuquerque, New Mexico[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]Better Get A Lawyer, Son: 1.01[/b][/COLOR] [I]Better Get a Real Good One[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] Nil[/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]N/A[/I][/right][/SUP] [INDENT] Italian wingtips clak across state linoleum. Edgar had his head on the table. The cuffs still hurt and were now connected to a loop holding him here in this tight room that they wouldn't let him out of. It'd been hours. A practised double windsor, resting on a dress shirt with an exorbitant thread count, bounces with a confident gait. They had him. They kept talking about Mexico, but he'd brought this coke across from Texas. Just because he was Latino they thought he was Mexican? This was fucked. Kept talking about how the Feds would turn him inside out. They all knew they had him. They pulled all the bags out right in front of him. Maybe he should just-- The door opened. In walked a blonde man, with a crisp suit and a swagger all his own. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Hey, I'm Banjo de León fro--"[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"No frickin' way you're Latino, man..."[/color] Banjo blinked twice. [color=darkgoldenrod]"--and with that I think we can put a heavy line through 'Incompetency to stand trial'. Yes, you're very astute."[/color] He rounded the table and put his case on the floor. [color=darkgoldenrod]"As I was saying... I'm Banjo de León from 'de León, Alvarez, Prescott and Attorneys', now whilst--"[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"Whoa... name partner."[/color] Edgar was surprised that he'd received this kind of attention. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I'm not a name partner."[/color] He replied, going through the motions of a conversation he'd had all too many times already. [color=antiquewhite]"Your father, then?"[/color] Edgar assumed. They always assume. [color=darkgoldenrod]"My wife, as it bloody happens. But you couldn't afford her, mate. So you're stuck with me if you'll have me. Now... as I was trying to say, 'de León, Alvarez, Prescott and Attorneys' we're not generally known for criminal defense. We're known as a civil rights law firm by reputation. [b]I[/b], however, am entirely focused on criminal defense within our firm, and I assure you I am the best you'll find. Unless you want to take your chances on the crapshoot that is the Public Defenders Office."[/color] He produced a small box of business cards and slid one across the table top. Edgar scooped the card up in both cuffed hands like it was a communion wafer, and clung to it like a life preserver. [color=antiquewhite]"How-- how much is this going to cost me..?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, since we're a civil rights law firm, a lot of what I do is actually pro bono work. Which means--"[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"You mean you'll work for free..?!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well... on occasion, the judge can occasionally determine that pro bono counsel be renumerated by the state for some or all of our costs if we win in a really over the top fashion, in which case, you wouldn't see [b]THAT[/b] money. But yeah. That won't be you. No costs up front."[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"Oh thank God, man! They've real--"[/color] Banjo silenced him with a hand gesture and [color=darkgoldenrod]"Ah!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"These rooms are all mic-ed up."[/color] He explained. [color=antiquewhite]"Wait, they can do that? You're my lawyer, man?!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, I'm pleased to hear that."[/color] He said as he removed the standard forms and pen from his case, to lay on the table in front of Edgar, before closing the case back up. [color=darkgoldenrod]"And yeah, it wouldn't be admissible in a court room, because of privilege, which you're right to refer to. But anyone listening in might still be tempted to use that for lines of invstigation, and then mysteriously the audio for the room goes missing orrrr they claim it was never recording at the time. You get what I'm saying? So let's not tempt fate, mate. These people are already screwing you to the wall, let's not offer to buy them dinner."[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"They're-- they're screwing me?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"That'd be my bet. Let me guess, they got you in here, started talking about how you were seen driving up from the Mexican border, all of a sudden the Feds are getting mentioned...?[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"Yea-- yeah, man! That's exactly what they did!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Figures... Trafficking - [b]WHICH NO ONE IS SAYING YOU EVEN DID[/b] - is a second degree felony."[/color] He raised his voice for Edgar's benefit, having mentioned the mics. It was covered by privilege and meant nothing, but the client wouldn't actually [b]SEE[/b] him fighting for him for a while yet, and it was important to make sure they maintain that belief in their lawyer always being on their side. Always fighting. Relentless. [color=darkgoldenrod]"First charge is nine years... unless they can tie you to bringing it in from south of the border. Then it jumps to Federal and they can nail you for twenty years. Stronger negotiating position."[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"Those-- those muthafuckas!"[/color] He hurriedly signed the paperwork. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Yeah. Yeah, I hear a lot of that."[/color] He took the paperwork back and put it back in his case. [color=antiquewhite]"So... so what do we do from here?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, I have your casefile, from here I'm going to go down to the ADA's office and see what kind of offer I get out of them."[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"Wait-- wait, we're, we're taking a plea..?"[/color] Banjo said nothing but gave a look of pity across the table that all but said "Mate, they hauled bag after bag of cocaine out of your car directly in front of you." A few beats passed before he eventually spoke. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I'm just going to hear their offer. I wouldn't - and for that matter can't - accept their offer without talking to you first. At this stage it's all a negotiating process anyway. That's why they're trying to find ways to make [b]YOU[/b] think they can up the penalty. We have our own investigators to look into this stuff as well. But the negotiations, I'm good at this. They'll need to change their pants after they see me coming."[/color] [color=antiquewhite]"You're-- You are good, right? Promise?"[/color] Banjo looked into Edgar's desperate eyes. Banjo smiled back warmly. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Mate, I somehow managed to talk the best woman I've ever known into marrying me, and all it cost me was taking her name. And given when we met, I didn't have one of me own... I think I made a pretty good deal."[/color] He got to his feet and walked to the door. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I'll level though... she maaaaaay have been a little sweet on opposing counsel. But it won't matter. You'll see."[/color] And with that he was gone. [center]- - -[/center] [/INDENT][/INDENT][/color] [color=SILVER][SUP][table][row][/row][row][cell][color=#2c2c2c]- -[/color]|◄ [url=First Post URL][COLOR=GRAY][b]FIRST[/b][/COLOR][/url][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][center]◄ [url=Previous Post URL][COLOR=GRAY][B]PREV[/B][/COLOR][/url] || [url=Next Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)][COLOR=GRAY][B]NEXT[/B][/COLOR][/url] ►[color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/center][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][INDENT][right][url=Latest Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)][COLOR=GRAY][B]LATEST[/B][/COLOR][/url] ►|[/right][/INDENT][/cell][/row][/table][/SUP][/color] [/hider] [hr] And Now... [hider=Better Get A Lawyer Son - Part 2] [COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT][i]Banjo stood with his tie over his left shoulder, tucked into his suit, and the wide stance of a local at the bench of 'Julie's' foodtruck, hunched over his breakfast burrito. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I dunno how you keep nailin' this every morning, Ferd..."[/color] [color=white]"Sure you do. Same ingredients. Same process. Lots of practice."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Alchemy. Magic most foul. Got it. Say no more."[/color] He punctuated it with a massive bite. Fernando turned back to the grill, to prep the next white slip. He called out over his shoulder [color=white]"So'd you hear about this kid they got downtown. Word is they've got one even you couldn't flip."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Nnng..?"[/color] Banjo said, barely paying attention, basking in the experience of his food. [color=white]"Yeah. Highway patrol caught this kid with a trunk full of cocaine..."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Mmm..."[/color] Banjo listened, but his jaw was otherwise preoccupied. [color=white]"Yeah, say they gonna nail his ass to the floor..."[/color] Fernando kept his back to Banjo. Working away at the grill. A loud hissing noise came as the next ticket's ingredients hit the hotplate. [color=white]"DA said he'd bet a million bucks he's got this kid nailed, dead to rights. So I thought I'd tell you, and take my own action. Bet you two grand you couldn't flip him."[/color] Banjo put his burrito down and pinched his brow in frustration. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Ferd... whaddaya doin'?"[/color] [color=white]"What, I can't make a friendly wager... see if the pendejo DA actually knows what he's talking ab--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Well, first of all, get your terminology right. I don't flip anyone. The Feds flip people to turn wit, and the prosecution flips witnesses to turn state. I walk 'em. And secondly, why are you treating me like I'm an idiot, Ferd? You're not betting me. You're trying to undercut my price on taking a case. Now who's this kid?"[/color] [color=white]"..."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Ferd..? Ferd I haven't gone anywhere. I'm still right here... Feeer-errrrrd..."[/color] He picked his burrito back up and took another bite. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Dammit, that's good!"[/color] [color=white][sup][sub]"Julie's niece knows him..."[/sub][/sup][/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Aww no, Julie? You're in on this..?"[/color] [color=gainsboro]"Please Mister Banjo, Edgar's a good boy..."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"No. No. First of all, I know you both know Banjo's the first name. You're doing that to sound more pitiful, and I haven't been eating here all this time to not have noticed that it's beneath you to not realise it. You're playin' me Julie..."[/color] He took another big bite, but Julie wouldn't let up. [color=gainsboro]"Lisa, she knew him from school, she said that Edgar Martinez was a good boy, but then his father died. All he had was his car and some gas money, Mister Banjo, and he still had to look after his mother..."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Knock it off!"[/color] He said, with his mouth still partially full. [color=gainsboro]"...He had to drop out of school! Mister Banjo, the only way he could come close to making up the money that they relied on his father to bring in, was to start driving for bad--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Dammit! I'd say you just made me lose my appetite, but we all know that's not the case! It's too damn good! I'm taking this to go..."[/color] He stormed off. The crunch of his shoes on the ground foretold his return. He grabbed a handful of napkins from the basket. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Needed serviettes."[/color] He explained. He felt four sad eyes on him. He sighed. [color=darkgoldenrod]"French dip sandwich. Lunchtime. I'm not bloody payin' for it. And I want you to know, that I'm not very happy with any of you..."[/color] And with that he walked to his car. [/i] [/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][CENTER][img]https://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27900000/Alex-alex-pettyfer-27913840-500-238.gif[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Bernalillo County Metropolitan Court, Metropolitan Courthouse, Albuquerque, New Mexico[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]Better Get A Lawyer, Son: 1.02[/b][/COLOR] [I]Get yourself a Lawyer, Son[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] Nil[/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Better Get A Real Good One[/I][/right][/SUP] [INDENT] The newest Assistant District Attorney stepped out of court, and down the corridor after a fine morning session. He looked over and found himself walking next to a blonde man in a fine tailored suit. Defense attorney. Had to be. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Hey, I'm Banjo de León fro--"[/color] [color=white]"Ah, the Martinez case, right?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"That's right."[/color] [color=white]"The guy who just saw us pull all his coke out of--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Not all facts are yet in evidence. Oh, and feel free to drop an 'allegedly' in there at any point in time."[/color] Banjo kept a closed mouthed smile. [color=white]"You're right. They're not yet in evidence. The coke has been seized... and I then get to enter it all - as a few people bring it in, and dump it all down on that little table, piled high - as evidence in front of a jury. I am new here, but I'm pretty sure that's how it works."[/color] The ADA didn't keep his smile closed-mouthed at all. Flashed a wide grin. Like a predator. [color=darkgoldenrod]"If it need get that far..."[/color] Banjo said. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Now it is my client's first offense..."[/color] [color=white]"And a very interesting choice of crime for your client to make for his first offense, driving drugs in from Mexico..."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Again... allegedly... and to be honest I'd even be careful saying that much..."[/color] [color=white]"Oh yes, and why would that be the case?"[/color] Banjo stopped, and thought for a moment. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I'm gonna tell you a story... There was this young couple of newlyweds, named Rachel and Diego."[/color] The young ADA stopped in his tracks as Banjo had in the hallway of the courthouse, tucking himself against a wall to avoid foot-traffic and hustle and bustle. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Anyway, Rachel and Diego had always dreamed of owning their own home and had mamnaged to achieve it. Proper sized home as they wanted, but on the outskirts, near the Wienerschnitzel by the on-ramp for the Forty... even then the payments were choking them off pretty tight..."[/color] The ADA's foot was tapping, this was dragging and going nowhere and he had places to be, he had other trial work coming up that day, and a full tray of work awaiting him back at the office. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Anyway, when they wanted to build up a big Megamart Mall on the outskirts they were trying to buy up a lot of cheap properties by whatever means necessary to add to the development, provide additional parking, you know the drill... anyway, the people at the Megamart Mall were getting, well, let's say aggressive with their dealings. Making day-to-day life very difficult for Rachel and Diego. There were threats. People were stealing their mail... which happened to include a one-off bumper fee and due date for said fee on their home loan. More threats. Diego had to put up cameras outside his house. Those cameras got smashed. Had to re-install hidden, and recessed cameras that couldn't be so easily destroyed."[/color] The ADA's patience was left a thread. [color=white]"Alright, what's the moral of the story. Slow and steady wins the race?"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"What? No. This wasn't-- This wasn't an analogy. I know Rachel and Diego. Good people. I helped them save their house, we proved that payment was missed because of that mail theft - a Federal offense, and they send my wife and I Christmas cards every year. This wasn't that kind of story."[/color] The ADA was incensed, he was wasting his time. [color=white]"Then what?! What was the point of any of this?!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"The point was. I know Rachel and Diego. Nice people. We get along well. And if I were to have pulled the footage on the video cameras he still has from his property and told you that you can see a very familiar sedan driving up the Forty, at the time consistent with my client's story and absolutely no clear evidence to support the baseless theory that he was driving up from Mexico, what would you say?"[/color] The pallor dropped from the ADA's face. [color=white]"We--"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"My guess is 'Oh!', because there's not much else to be said beyond that, really. Which takes me back to before when I said '--and I'd be careful even saying that much.' Because your filed paperwork is already Doo-de-doo-de-doo-de-doo--"[/color] He mimed a walking figure up to the Judge's office with his fingers. [color=darkgoldenrod]"--well and truly on it's way to the Judge. I'm guessing you were trying to put pressure on me as some kind of power move right there, don't really care. But at this point it's something you'd have to walk back if we proceed to trial. Walking back what will likely be seen as a bad faith effort to tack on years to a plea agreement."[/color] [color=white]"Well, now that's not really a fair asse--"[/color] The ADA spoke up with half-hearted faux outrage at the attack on his character. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Not a fair assessment? So your plan was... what... to go to trial claiming before a judge and a local jury of his peers that Edgar Martinez was hauling a load of drugs from Mexico via... what... Amarillo? Would be interesting to watch. Particularly from my vantage point on the defence bench."[/color] [color=white]"Fine... Three years."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Really? I was thinking one."[/color] [color=white]"One year?!? He had a trunk full of cocaine!"[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Ohhhhhh that's because you're still thinking about this as about Edgar Martinez. No, no, no. I was thinking you were negotiating with... some kind of concern for self-preservation and your own career. See, because if you go up there before a judge with this, [b]WHEN[/b] I make you walk back your cynical play here, that's going to affect how the judge sees a new ADA who hasn't really prosecuted anything in this state. Well, first impressions are a very valuable thing in our profession. I'm saying one year and letting you buy yours back."[/color] [color=white]"Two years."[/color] The young ADA threw out in a blurted counter. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I said one year. And I didn't stutter. If I were in the mood for haggling Id have said six months and let you walk me back to a year. No. One year. And I still have to convince my client to take the deal."[/color] The young Assistant District Attorney seethed and considered his options. [color=white]"How the Hell am I supposed to swing one year with our office."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"You tell them the full story. All of it. And they'll get it. Hell, might even think you dodged a bullet."[/color] Banjo flashed a quick leer. [color=darkgoldenrod]"Either way, it's not my problem and it's not Edgar Martinez's."[/color] He considered. [color=white]"I'll take it to my office."[/color] [color=darkgoldenrod]"Really, you're gonna crowd source this?"[/color] Banjo chuckled like he'd just been told a wry joke. [color=white]"I'm not going to let some slick little asshole defense attorney push me into making an unmakable deal."[/color] He hissed at him in frustration. [color=white]"If I [b]CAN[/b] swing one year, for a watertight case with a trunk full of cocaine, without being strung up I will call you back and you can tell your client."[/color] Banjo's grin remained glued to his face. He enjoyed this part of the process far too much. [color=darkgoldenrod]"You have until close of business, Prosecutor."[/color] He turned and left him in the hallway. [color=darkgoldenrod]"I'll go talk to my client, but I wouldn't drag my feet if I were you."[/color] [center]- - -[/center] [/INDENT][/INDENT][/color] [color=SILVER][SUP][table][row][/row][row][cell][color=#2c2c2c]- -[/color]|◄ [url=First Post URL][COLOR=GRAY][b]FIRST[/b][/COLOR][/url][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][center]◄ [url=Previous Post URL][COLOR=GRAY][B]PREV[/B][/COLOR][/url] || [url=Next Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)][COLOR=GRAY][B]NEXT[/B][/COLOR][/url] ►[color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/center][/cell][cell][color=2c2c2c]-[/color][/cell][cell][INDENT][right][url=Latest Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)][COLOR=GRAY][B]LATEST[/B][/COLOR][/url] ►|[/right][/INDENT][/cell][/row][/table][/SUP][/color] [/hider]