In the room where the prisoners were changing clothes yesterday, they changed into a dark suit of ordinary workmanship provided by the prison authorities and went through a series of formalities. Then they were held hostage by four prison guards and passed through a long, cold underground passage.
This passage is more than 600 meters long and extends from the underground of the Federal Detention Center (MCC) to the basement of the neighboring Federal Court for the Southern District of New York. It is exclusively used for escorting suspects to court.
I don't know if I received the forbidden command above, or were too lazy to talk to the suspect, the prison guards looked cold and silent along the way, only the sound of hard leather boots hitting the concrete floor echoed in the narrow space. He did not ask any questions, and was taken silently into the basement of the court, locked in a cell with walls on three sides, and looked at the outside through the only iron fence.
The shadows of a few pairs of legs and feet can occasionally be seen on the walkway outside the iron net, but they all pass by. He touched the painful wrist after the shackles were removed, and leaned his back against the wall secretly: According to normal procedures, today should not be a court session in the true sense... What's next, meeting with the pre-trial service officer? Or meet with a lawyer appointed by the government
At this moment, the hurried footsteps moved from far to near. Just a few seconds later, a figure slammed on the iron bars of the cell, casting a shadow like a preying eagle, intending to grab its prey instantly. .
He raised his eyes and looked at each other.
It was a white man in a suit and leather shoes. He was about thirty-six or seventeen years old. He was ordinary in appearance. There was nothing particularly impressive about him, but he couldn't tell the flaws in his facial features. In short, he was universal. His gray-brown hair is meticulously combed, his temples and jaws are shaved cleanly, he is fitted with a tailored designer suit and shiny leather shoes under his feet, just like the spokesperson of a certain type of social elite-high income, but no personality , Is just one of the white-collar workers in the luxuriously decorated office.
At this time, the man seemed to lose his temper, his fingers clasped tightly on the fence, his pale face was flushed with vigorous exercise (or emotional), he tried hard to suppress his majestic voice, and said eagerly: "—Listen. I said! I spent a considerable price to get here, and the time I have is very limited. I will finish it as soon as possible, please listen carefully—"
A tone that is suppressed with authority and suspense, which makes people have to hold their breath. However, when placed on a prisoner who is thrown into a cage and isolated and helpless, unexpected results can be achieved, and the weaker latter will unknowingly obey.
… Interesting guy. He took two steps forward, and saw the deep, slender gray eyes behind the barbed wire more clearly.
"I know who you are and what you want," the other party continued quickly, "maybe you feel that you are already at a loss and helpless. They have deprived you of your personal freedom, all your rights, and even the goal of your life in the next half of your life— However," he deliberately emphasized this turning point, "Before this, you still have an opportunity to choose, which can help you avoid the opportunity of facing that kind of desperate situation-right here, now!"
He said this with a sigh of relief, and paused for a while, as if he wanted the other party to concentrate all his attention on listening to the gospel that follows: "Listen to me, you must get rid of the free lawyer assigned by the government. Idiot, then tell them that you choose me—Canning Gonzalez, as your personal lawyer.” He stuffed a small rolled paper card into the grid, “Here is my business card, take it Live it, kill Mr. Qing."
The last word cut through the air like a crisp rest, causing a gleam of light across the dark eyes. In the case of the FBI deliberately shutting down the news, even the prison officials were completely ignorant of his true identity, but this man who claimed to be a lawyer accurately smashed his identity, I have to say, he was quite good at it.
"I don't want to ask you how you know my identity, Mr. Lawyer," he killed like a leopard walking out of the dark, approaching him with ease, "but you just said that you know what I want. Go ahead and tell. What do I want?"
Even though the opponent was behind the fence, he couldn't help but leaned back, and then he grasped the barbed wire tighter. The eyes that looked directly at the finale almost released a warm light mixed with tremor and excitement. "Innocent release! Yes, I believe I can do it. This case is unique and it is simply a legend. Once it is exposed, it will set off an uproar in the society! Public opinion will cause an overwhelming storm-crushing masts or stirring up sails. It depends on how you control the wind, only I can help you steer the helm in the storm! Imagine the moment when the jury is conquered and the judge knocks the gavel to pronounce your innocence, the moment you walk out of the gate in high spirits, the flashing spotlight, A swarm of reporters and screaming crowds will directly push you to the throne of a city hero! Our people need an image of a hero who cuts out evil and omnipotence, even if he himself comes from the dark!"
He slowly tilted his head, as if in order to better examine this provocative language from the grid, he curled his mouth with a smile: "—wrong. But you are funny, ambitious, and ambitious. … You want to use me, use this case, and become famous overnight. Your eyes are written in your eyes because you are unwilling to the status quo, and you are determined to climb up. No matter what the price is, you can accept it."
"I like motivated people," he concluded, reaching out two fingers, and took away the business card in the other's hand.
"Thank you!" the other party said overjoyed, "but unfortunately I can't tell you more now, I have to go..."
"You should go now, I heard the footsteps of the bailiff."
Canning leaped up from the fence like a frightened lynx, and quickly disappeared from the sight of the lynx who had surpassed his age group.
Half a minute later, a bailiff with a weapon on his waist appeared in front of the iron fence with a young man in a suit.
When the young lawyer with a tired look and with signs of orgy from the previous night under his eyes began to introduce himself routinely, and was about to read a federal indictment to his client, he interrupted him very rudely. "Public lawyer? Oh no, I changed my mind. I decided to give the state benefits to those who are more in need. I'm sorry, it wasted your precious time and energy, but anyway, you just went through the scene to deal with it and make the trial. The procedure is just legal, so it's not too wasteful, right, Mr. Lawyer?"
The young lawyer's already dysfunctional complexion grew more and more tarnished, and after giving him a fierce look, he threw a grit of teeth, "God bless you!" Then he waved away.
The bailiff looked at his angrily back and didn’t seem to have reacted. He said slowly, “Look, before my lawyer arrives, I won’t say anything and cannot go to court. Send it back to the MCC, or make the call on the business card?" He stretched a rolled business card out of the grid.
The bailiff took it and hesitated for a while. It seemed that he didn't dare to deal with this emergency without authorization, and planned to report it to the head first. "We need to verify the identity of the other party." He said, then hurriedly left with his business card.
Even if it is only used as a decoration, the role of a lawyer is always indispensable, but it is the difference between a bit stupid and a smarter one. Canning Gonzalez... I hope you have enough IQ and don't mess up this good show or add to it. He said silently, leaving the iron fence and returning to the shadow on the wall.
Soon, the bailiff came back to convey the opinions of a certain judge. Because of the temporary change of lawyers, some materials needed to be prepared again. The court appearance that day was postponed, and the defendant had to be taken back to MCC to wait for notice.
The four prison guards put their handcuffs back on to complete the mission and returned the same way.
After changing the prison uniforms, he returned to Unit 7R, and suddenly discovered that his bed was occupied by a fat black man. "I just left—" He looked up at the wall clock and chuckled at the guards beside him. "In less than an hour, life in the metropolis is really fast-paced."
The prison guard who escorted him was obviously also a little inexplicable. At this time, Ian came over and said: "You should feel fortunate. I have changed the room for you. The double standard room has a luxurious toilet and a writing desk. Maybe you think there is one less jacuzzi?" As always, the young blonde prison guard had a ridiculous smile on his face, as if he wouldn't be able to speak without a gun and a stick. "Okay, go get your things and follow me, Mr.'Someone up there.'"
Shu Qing shrugged, walked to the bed and threw his clothes into the cardboard box.
"You can't just leave and leave me here!" The Hispanic who came in with him suddenly rushed over and shouted, "It's not fair! Why can you go to the double room, but I have to stay in this smelly place." A ghostly place full of scumbags?! This is not fair!" He turned to roar at the prison guard: "I have to change my room, otherwise I will contact a lawyer and accuse you of taking bribes, breaking the rules, and torturing prisoners!"
The ridicule on Ian's face turned into a cold blade, volleyed across his skin, and the cruel malice in his eyes made the Hispanic step back uncontrollably.
"If you have money to ask a lawyer, it's great." He said, his voice as soft as a poisonous snake, "I think you need some solid evidence so that your lawyer can write it in the accusation, don't you?" His gaze The suspects who glanced at the room with folded arms, paused briefly on the faces of the two black men in the lead, seemed to give an invisible command, and then turned their heads and left.
He followed him with the cardboard box in his arms. Before he left the room, he heard the crowd move and the thick nasal voices of the two big black guys with tower-like figures: "What did I hear? Stinky and full. Is it a scum? Huh?"
However, he did not have the slightest sympathy to give alms to the unlucky Hispanic. Because he always believes that a person can be not smart, but he has to learn to see the current situation; he can be arrogant and domineering, but only if he has the capital to be arrogant and domineering.
Riding the elevator up to the 9th floor, Ian led him through the surrounding aisle, stopped in front of a row of grid-like cells, and opened one of the thick iron doors. "New apartment, new roommate. But I think you have known each other." He cast his eyes on the man sitting next to the bed in the cell, and mocked: "Is it got my wish, Mafia? The catch is that this kid is a tough guy. , Be careful of breaking your tooth."
He pushed the end of his truncheon against his back and pushed it inward, closing the iron door with a bang.
"...Hey, I'm seeing you again, Li." The young Italian with brown hair and blue eyes got up, with a slightly worried expression, and greeted him.
He stared at his stretched right hand and asked blankly, "Is this asking me to give a kiss, Alessio? Otherwise, you will throw me into the giant meat grinder?"
The latter retracted his hand and rubbed his eyebrows a little embarrassingly. "Don't say that, Li," he explained gently, "That's all in the past. Now we are not so bloody and violent. We usually just use guns."
He sighed and threw the cardboard box in his hand onto the bed, "I'm really not used to it, you use such a harmless expression and say such sensational words."
Alessio smiled frankly and refreshingly, like a good citizen with a normal profession and upright and law-abiding, "If I scare you, I'm sorry that was not my intention. By the way, how did it feel to go to court for the first time?"
"Anticlimactic." Qing Qing replied boredly, "I think I have to stay here for a while longer than expected."
"Uh, even though such a question is a taboo in prison, you don't have to answer—" Alessio hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help asking, "What did they accuse you of committing?"
Shaoqing glanced at him as if he was spying on the conspiracy behind the question, but the other party had clear eyes and a friendly manner, and could not see the slightest shadow of the conspiracy, so he replied vaguely: "Killing."
"God, I can't see it at all!" The Italian sighed, "I thought it was tax evasion, smuggling, or something more... a weaker crime. It was an accident, right, or was it too defensive... I can understand , This society is like this. There are always those guys who don’t have eyes. Seeing that you are not full of muscles or full of rough mouth, they think you are weak and can be deceived. It should be a lesson for such people. But it’s just a flop, don’t So I feel guilty, you are not wrong."
He recalled the corpses of those serial killers who were bloody and strangely dead, and nodded and said, "You are right, I think so too."
When Leo came out in his nightgown to sign for the courier package, the headache caused by severe lack of sleep and hangover was still hovering in his skull, so that the hands unpacking the box trembled.
He is sure that he has not recently purchased anything that needs to be mailed. Maybe it's a gift, for a birthday, an anniversary, or other important holiday that he has never forgotten? After rubbing his groggy face with his palm, he sat down and rudely dumped the contents of the box on the sofa.
A set of folded men’s outerwear, a small stack of coins, a blackberry phone, a metal lighter... all sparse things, seems to be all the wear and belongings of a certain man... Damn, there is still a piece to wear. Panties!
Is this a boring prank? Just when Leo was about to sweep everything into the trash can along with the small boxes, one of the objects firmly stuck to his eyes.
It was a note with a few lines scribbled with a black ink pen, damn, familiar handwriting—
"My dear, they asked me to report my home address, but I don’t have that stuff. I only know one address in New York, and I slept there for two nights. I have no other choice but to send it over. Please keep it for me. Until I come to retrieve it.
Your loyal close friend and mortal enemy"
Leo flicked off the note and jumped up like a finger stung by a poisonous scorpion.
—This bastard who damned a hundred times, a thousand times and ten thousand times! douchebag! shameless! Go to your mother's "pro"! Go to your mother's "sleep for two nights"! Go to your mother's "faithful close friend"!
The intention is too vicious, it is as disgusting as biochemical gas! Leo panted furiously, almost hearing the sound of his chest cracking because of excessive ups and downs.
The dazzling, blue and white striped underwear was placed on the sofa cushion, like a naked mocking smiling face! Damn it, how exactly does he want to humiliate him! Even squatted in jail did not want to stop!
Didn't he put him in yet? Leo tugged through the carton in a daze, with the sender's address clearly printed on it. That's right, it was the Federal Detention Center-even if the bastard died, he would have to give him the final blow! God, he feels the headache is about to split, like a hacksaw pulling back and forth in his brain. If he hits it hard on the glass coffee table, he can completely solve the remaining problems and eliminate all the traces of the bastard in his mind. Erased-yes, he is willing to kowtow!
He hugged his head tightly with his hands, his waist was bent at an exhausted angle, and his face was deeply buried in his knees.
After a long time, in a suffocating silence, Leo groaned helplessly and dying: "Fuck you... kill..."