We have been working hard on this book and are happy to announce that the release date is this week. To get your juices flowing, we have released snippets of the story. We hope you enjoyed the first two snippets. The third snippet is Chapter 2. Enjoy.
An eerie feeling came over Cole Weaver as he stood outside the United States Penitentiary in Atlanta. This was the home of some of the world’s most famous gangsters. Whitey Bulger, Vincent Papa, and Al Capone are just a few names of men who took up residence in the medium-security facility. Cole had been an attorney for over ten years but had never represented someone facing the federal charges that were brought against Cash. Cole had beaten plenty of local cases for Cash to the point that the Atlanta Police Department couldn’t touch him or his crew, but this was a different beast. This was the federal government. The case had piqued his interest, and he knew winning on a federal level would catapult his career. Every crime organization would have him on their payroll, and he would be the recipient of millions of dollars in service fees. This is one of the reasons he represented members of the Street Kings, besides him being good friends with Don. They both attended Clark Atlanta, and Don helped him locate the perfect building to start his firm. Although they graduated in different years, they were a part of the same circle and always kept in touch. It’s show time, he thought to himself as he straightened his necktie.
Getting into the facility was a thirty-minute process, which left him standing barefoot with just his dress shirt and slacks. Guards had him remove everything else during the search. He had been patted down, his pockets had been gone through, and groin area had been tapped.
“I’m sure this is how you treat all visitors,” Cole barked, knowing the extra hospitality was a way the guards set the tone. He thought about filing a complaint with a supervisor, but he had a feeling it would have been pointless. He knew the guards protected each other, and his complaint would have just been swept under the rug.
After signing in, Cole was escorted to an interview room. Walking down the long halls in complete silence, the guards didn’t say a word to him. One led the way, and the other followed behind Cole. He would occasionally glance back at the smug expression on the guard’s face. There was an obvious dislike between the men, but this was nothing new to Cole. Depending on which client they represented, attorneys often faced the backlash law enforcement officials can’t impose on suspects.
The heavy metal door opened and Cole stepped into the interview room. His eyes immediately locked on to Cash, who was sitting in a tan jumpsuit. He had his handcuffed hands placed on his lap. He was unshaven and appeared to have gained a few pounds. To Cole’s recollection, there had never been a time in which Cash didn’t have a sharp haircut. He was definitely out of his element. Cole patted him on the back, before taking a seat next to him. Cash didn’t bother to look at him. Instead, he continued looking straight ahead.
“Good morning Mr. Weaver.”
“It’s morning, but I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a good one,” Cole shot back, looking across the table at the well-dressed man sitting across from them. His olive complexion, dark hair, and goatee gave him more of an appearance of a Hollywood actor, but the badge that was hanging around his neck let them know exactly who he was.
“I am Special Agent Dillon Miles from the Federal Bureau of Investigations,” he said while sliding a business card across the table.
Cole slid the business card over to Cash without even examining it. Cash studied the card, verifying the identity of the man who had requested this unexpected meeting. “Why are we here?” Cole asked. “The next hearing isn’t until next month.”
Agent Miles let out a deep sigh and opened a thick folder that was in front of him. “Well, I have something I would like for you to take a look at.” He pulled out a ten-page document and slid it across the table. “I will need an answer after you read that.”
Both Cole and Cash read the bold title, PLEA AGREEMENT.
“What the hell is this?” Cash asked.
Cole thumbed through the pages and squinted his eyes as he read the text. The words were unbelievable. Agent Miles carefully watched as Cole examined each line. Sweat beads began to form on his forehead, but the last thing he wanted to do was wipe his forehead and show any signs of nervousness. Instead, he looked over at the clock that was on the wall. Cash had his eyes fixated on Miles. He remembered seeing the agent at the preliminary hearing, alongside the prosecuting attorney. Cash’s hands twitched as he refrained from jumping across the table and strangling the agent who had turned his life upside down. I’m facing thirty years. I got nothing to lose if I choke this motherfucker out. That thought was quickly interrupted.
“You want my client to plea down to a two-year sentence?’
“What do you mean?” Agent Miles asked, confused as to why Cole asked him that.
“Why? Why are you offering us a deal?” Cole continued flipping through the paperwork.
“Because he doesn’t have a strong case,” Cash inserted. His once stone cold face now displayed a slight grin.
“Oh, we have a case. We are just giving you the opportunity to cooperate with us and admit your involvement with the drug distribution.”
Cash burst out laughing. “Drug distribution? What the fuck are you talkin’ bout? You know nothing about me.”
“I know everything I need to know about you, boy.”
“Boy?” Cash stood up and almost dove across the table. The guards grabbed him by his shoulders and sat him back down in the seat. His jaw was clenched so tight it seemed as if the bone would tear rip through his face.
“Hold on. Hold on. Everybody calm the hell down!” Cole yelled. “Get your hands off my client,” he ordered the guards who disregarded the order. “Chris he is just trying to bait you because he has no case. He wants to jam you up with a bullshit assault charge.” Cole turned to Agent Miles and threw the papers in his direction. “Take that plea deal and shove it up your ass.”
“Let me tell you something. We are going to go to trial, and I’m going to have the judge throw the book at you and your crew. You are all going to rot in jail.”
“If that were the case, then you wouldn’t be here right now.”
Agent Miles pushed the chair back and stood to his feet. He snatched the papers from the desk and stuffed them into the folder. He didn’t want to think about what his colleagues would say. He promised he could get Cash to take the plea, but it was obvious he wouldn’t. There was a huge hiccup in the case, and Agent Miles promised it wouldn’t happen again. The odds against the Feds were astronomical.
“This is ridiculous. Guards take my client back to his cell. We are done here.”
“Before you leave I want to know one thing. We will be paying the rest of your little crew a visit. They will be offered better deals than this, and they will take them. Someone will testify against you, and I will have a front row seat to watch you crumble in court.”
“First of all, my whole team is loyal, and no one is going to say shit to you.”
“Chris, don’t say anything else to Robocop over here.” Cole walked over to Agent Miles and sized him up. “I will be contacting all my clients and warning them of your little stunt. We will all see you in court.”
Agent Miles laughed. “It’s such a shame that you are representing everyone involved in this case, Mr. Weaver. Unfortunately, today is the only day we could conduct interviews. Seeing as though your clients have been all placed in different states, I highly doubt you will be available to sit in on those interviews. See, you can’t be in three places at once but the federal government can. I’m sure statements are being signed as we speak.”
“You can’t do that. That’s illegal!” Cole barked, knowing it would be impossible for him to reach the other members of the crew in time. Usually, he had time to plan visits with his clients so that he could book flights but there was no way he would be able to do it now.
“We can and we did,” Agent Miles muttered before reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out the item and placed it on the table. “We are coming for you,” he whispered to Cash before swinging the door open and walking out.
“Yo, get the fuck back here!” Cash yelled. Fuck, he thought. He quickly grabbed the item off the table and gave it to Cole.
“What is this?”
“What kind of message?”
“An important one. I need you to do me a favor and contact someone about this.”
“Who am I contacting?”
“My girl. She will know what to do. Tell her a federal agent gave this to us. You have to call the rest of my crew. They need to know about this agent.”
“Ok, I will.” Cole flipped the item over, wondering what the significance is about a playing card.
THE ACE OF SPADES.
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