Chapter 5 - The Opening Move
The morning air outside the county courthouse was biting cold as Richard Vance filed a formal motion for an evidentiary hearing based on newly discovered evidence and ineffective assistance of counsel.
The news hit the legal community like a grenade. The powerful Vance law firm—synonymous with corporate dominance—was taking on the state to overturn the conviction of a disgraced convict.
Within hours, the political machinery of Senator Harold Pendelton began to grind into action.
Inside a lavish, wood-paneled office in the capital, Senator Harold Pendelton stood by the window, swirling a glass of scotch. Across from him sat his son, Arthur, who looked pale, nervously biting his fingernails.
"I thought you told me this was buried, Dad!" Arthur panicked, his voice shaking. "You said Julian Ross would rot in prison for twenty-five years and no one would ever ask questions!"
"Shut up, Arthur," Senator Pendelton barked, turning around with an icy glare. "Panicking makes you look guilty. Richard Vance is a corporate lawyer. He doesn't know how to navigate the mud of criminal court."
"But he's Justice Vance's son!" Arthur argued, standing up. "And his mother is the old lady Julian saved! The media is calling Julian a hero! If they re-test the car's computer modules or look into the Swiss medical payments—"
"I said quiet!" Harold snapped, slamming his glass onto the mahogany desk. "Detective Miller assured me the original car ECU was destroyed in the police impound yard two years ago. There is no physical evidence linking you to that steering wheel. As long as Julian Ross keeps his mouth shut, Vance has nothing but theories."
Harold walked over to his desk and picked up a secure mobile phone. He dialed a number, his expression darkening into something lethal.
"Miller," Harold said into the phone. "Vance is digging around the Ross file. I want Julian transferred to the maximum-security wing at Blackwood. Make sure he understands that if he speaks a single word to Richard Vance, his sister’s medical funding in Switzerland will be terminated immediately."
Meanwhile, back at the state penitentiary, the heavy steel door of Julian's cell unlocked with a loud, mechanical clang.
Four guards stepped inside, led by Officer Miller. Miller carried a set of heavy iron chains and leather restraints.
"Get up, 4092," Miller sneered. "You're moving."
Julian stood up from his cot, his eyes narrowing. "Where? Transfer protocol requires twenty-four hours notice."
"Special order from the commissioner's office," Miller lied smoothly, shoving Julian against the wall and wrapping the heavy chains around his waist and ankles. "You're going to Blackwood. It seems your little publicity stunt downtown attracted the wrong kind of attention."
As Miller tightened the wrist cuffs roughly, he leaned into Julian's ear, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "A little bird told me Richard Vance came to see you. Let me remind you of your contract, Ross. You open your mouth to that lawyer, and your sister dies in her hospital bed. Do you understand me?"
Julian felt a cold spike of terror strike his heart. His sister, Lily, was the only thing left in this world that he cared about. His entire sacrifice—the three years of absolute hell he had endured in prison, the destruction of his name—had all been to keep her alive.
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"I haven't said anything," Julian rasped out, his knuckles turning white inside the iron cuffs. "I haven't talked to anyone!"
"Keep it that way," Miller threatened, slapping Julian roughly on the back of his head as he dragged him out of the cell. "Because at Blackwood, accidents happen every single day."
