"Leo, there's still time. This case concerns national security. We can form our own hearing committee."
At the courthouse entrance, Governor Arnold once again approached Leo, speaking with what seemed like heartfelt sincerity.
"Form a hearing committee?" Leo smiled slightly and pointed across the street. "Governor, take a look over there."
The parking lot was packed with all kinds of luxury business vehicles. While the makes and logos differed, they all had one thing in common—
Small flags from different countries were mounted on the cars.
The governor looked at Leo and said, "But if you just tell your people not to show up, we don't have to care about these outsiders."
"So we shut the doors, stand up these foreign ambassadors, and when the media makes a fuss, we tell our own people: 'Don't be swayed by foreign forces'?"
The governor nodded naturally. "You get it. The usual routine. Who has the right to point fingers at us? This is a matter of national secrecy."
"No deal." Leo shook his head. "Do you think these people came here on their own? I'm not about to slap myself in the face."
"I figured." The governor shrugged. "But they insisted I make one last effort."
Leo extended his hand. "Then you've made your effort—Governor, if I were you, I'd start thinking about changing teams."
"Look at you—you've become the 'Terminator,' your approval ratings are soaring, the state's economy is booming, and your re-election is a sure thing.
Your enemies shot themselves in the foot, your allies are conservative and ineffectual. But over on my side? I'm on top and I play by the rules.
The prosthetics working out for you?"
"They're pretty good, but don't forget—I didn't shortchange you. I've given you policy backing, connections, the whole network.
You got everything done in two weeks. That kind of efficiency—you think you can find that elsewhere in America?"
The governor let out a barely audible sigh and lightly shook hands with Leo in front of the press cameras. "Still… you make a good point. But since I'm not in a hurry, why not take my time deciding?"
They shook hands, giving the media another photo op.
But just as they were about to part, Leo added, "Actually, you've already made your decision."
"You slick little devil." The governor let go and laughed helplessly, patting Leo on the shoulder. "You've got enemies all over this country now. Nothing you do is going to go smoothly.
And with all the shootings and car crashes lately—if I were you, I'd be real careful."
To outsiders, it looked like the governor truly cared about this case—he even showed up in court to support Frank, a fellow veteran he'd only briefly met on the street.
Before the trial began, he and his "old friend" Leo shook hands warmly like they hadn't seen each other in years.
The governor entered the building. Leo gave a slight nod to Frank and his team heading down another corridor, silently urging them to do their best.
As for the governor's warning, that was something Leo had been worried about too.
But the key personnel had already been relocated to the Hell's Kitchen area. NYPD, and their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, would be standing guard there.
[Gwen: Looks like the show's about to begin. This might be the hottest live broadcast of the year.]
Leo didn't think the enemy would still resort to a direct assassination, but being prepared never hurt.
The trial began.
This case drew a lot of attention. Thanks to Leo's unrelenting efforts, diplomats from multiple countries were closely watching, and the media showed up in full force.
Still, this was America. As the governor had said—if they stood united, the so-called pressure from foreign powers meant nothing.
Because of Leo's refusal to cooperate, the case became a political battleground. Politicians can only act with impunity if their peers turn a blind eye.
But once a group with real interests starts to dissent, those differing voices and fragmented ideas become powerful weapons for stealing influence and power.
One stark example was the governor's attack. Without Leo's backing, a reckless assault could have produced immediate and effective results. But now? The governor's voter base was rock solid—he was in no rush to make any more moves.
Bang.
The gavel struck.
"This case will proceed. But before we begin, I'd like to clarify some outside rumors: There have been claims that this case involves national secrets, and that a public trial would harm the dignity and interests of the United States.
However, after investigation, both the plaintiff and the defendant's identities, actions, and the timing of the incident fall outside any official or unofficial combat operations.
Therefore, this case is unrelated to the U.S. military. As per the Constitution, it is under the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court, to reveal the truth and deliver a just verdict.
This court will now continue proceedings."
The military had been left out of it officially—but everyone knew, this war made the whole thing possible in the first place.
What's more, Frank may not have done what he did while in the military—but he was transferred from it.
Still, no one said anything. Everyone knew the score.
CIA, NSA—these intel agencies operate under certain levels of secrecy, but legally, they're still subject to Supreme Court trial.
This gave the U.S. military a bit of face, and for Leo, that wasn't a bad thing.
After all, the origins of this war were a total mess.
And now, the Constitutional right of judicial interpretation by the Supreme Court had grown even stronger.
Who wouldn't want to expand their power of legal interpretation?
Now it was time to focus fully on the trial.
At the plaintiff's table, attorney Matt and Frank looked across at the defendant.
William Rawlins—once a high-flying deputy director of the CIA, a star of the Rawlins family—was now pale, haggard, and graying overnight.
He blamed everything on Leo and Frank, glaring at them like a rabid wolfhound.
Matt began to speak:
"During the recess, we found more witnesses and evidence. Your Honor, please allow me to summon my witness and present the evidence to show everyone the full picture."
People turned their attention to the documents at hand. Under Matt's guidance, the truth began to surface.
First, the beginning: William Rawlins, a senior CIA operative—why did he do all this?
Simple—he wanted a promotion.
As an intelligence officer, the political support from the Rawlins family had already helped him rise as far as he could go in his previous position. If he wanted to go further, he needed real, solid achievements.
And the most tangible achievements come from the battlefield.
Leveraging his family's power, Rawlins forced Frank and several elite Marine veterans to be discharged from the military and brought them under his command under vague and unofficial circumstances.
These capable veterans not only had excellent skills but another key trait—they followed orders without question. They didn't question this reassignment.
With this team of deadly veterans in hand, Rawlins formed the "Cerberus" squad and began targeting high-value individuals in Afghanistan.
Torture, kidnapping, assassination—as long as value could be extracted from the target, and as long as it could be turned into a stepping stone for Rawlins' promotion, he would go all in—
—by ordering the Cerberus to do it.
Being an entirely illegal strike team from a legal standpoint, Rawlins obviously couldn't fund them through military or CIA channels, nor could he rely on family money. So, he built his own operation.
He trafficked illicit drugs in Afghanistan. To avoid detection by local police and international investigators, he smuggled the drugs through corpses.
The soldiers' bodies, meant to be returned to the U.S. wrapped in flags, had their stomachs sliced open, stuffed with bags of narcotics, and were then passed to handlers in charge of transporting the remains. These handlers would pass them off to drug dealers at precise handoff points.
The profits went into a black account that funded Cerberus' operations.
This was a full-blown industrial chain. The raw materials: drugs and the corpses of dead soldiers from both sides. The intermediate products: firearms, ammunition, and military equipment. The final product: Rawlins himself and everyone who profited from the operation.
This included the local Afghan military and even certain operatives from the U.S. military. Everyone got a cut.
Until one sharp-eyed Afghan police officer, during a routine search, discovered a soldier's corpse with a grotesquely bloated belly—and what was inside.
"…We interrogated the kid. We were masked. He had no idea who we were—drug lords or American soldiers.
Rawlins spoke with him in the local language, so we didn't understand."
"I do," Lieberman raised his hand to add, "The kid said: 'It's not too late to turn back. I can help you.'
Someone asked Rawlins what the kid said. Rawlins replied in English: 'Just nonsense.'
Then he started speaking English."
After Lieberman finished, he exchanged glances with Gunner, who continued:
"Yes. The one who asked Rawlins was Edward Drogan. Then, the kid began pleading with us in English.
He said: 'I'm a good man. I'm not a terrorist. Please help me. I have children, a wife, a family.'
Then…"
Gunner pointed at Rawlins:
"He shot the officer."
The defense attorney suddenly struck:
"Sorry, but according to the records, you were a good soldier who followed orders. So why would you record a video like this?
Usually, in such illegal operations, the commanding officer would never allow any recordings."
"I—" Gunner suddenly hesitated.
Frank suddenly spoke up:
"He's a man of faith. Gunner already knew what we were doing was wrong, so he recorded it."
"Lies," the defense attorney shouted. "If you were truly religious, you wouldn't have participated in the operation.
And if you were a good soldier, you wouldn't have made a video. This testimony is clearly flawed!
He's either a disloyal soldier or a fake believer—we can't trust a liar like this!"
At the plaintiff's table, Gunner fell silent, while Frank glared angrily at the lawyer.
Matt quickly stopped him and said:
"He is a loyal citizen, which is why he joined the army. He is a person with a conscience, which is why he showed compassion.
But the defendant's greed and arrogance twisted that loyalty and corrupted his conscience.
Guided by faith, he chose to make things right.
The opposing lawyer's statements are full of subjective arrogance and malice and contain no actual refutation of the facts. It sounds like he's tacitly admitting the truth."
Someone quietly pumped a fist in support of Matt's rebuttal, clearly moved.
At the defendant's table, the defense attorney was speechless, burying his head in the files, flipping pages in desperation.
The judge gave Matt an approving look.
A real talent.
Leo noticed the detail too, nodding slightly.