Chapter 9 - Justice Served
Six months later, the federal trial of Victor Langford concluded in the United States District Court in downtown Columbus.
The courtroom was packed with journalists, union representatives, and factory workers who had taken time off work to witness the final judgment of the man who had tried to destroy their lives.
Victor stood at the defense table in a bright orange prison jumpsuit, his hands cuffed to his waist belt. His expensive hair cuts were gone, his arrogant posture was shattered, and his eyes were hollow and bloodshot.
Beside him, his high-priced defense attorneys sat in grim silence.
On the front bench of the gallery sat Preston Hale, Denise Carter, and Ethan Brooks.
The judge, a formidable woman named Justice Sarah Vance, looked down over her glasses at the defendant with absolute disdain.
“Victor Langford,” Judge Vance announced, her voice echoing through the quiet courtroom. “You were blessed with wealth, privilege, education, and the trust of a man who treated you like a brother. Yet, driven by unbridled corporate greed, you attempted to commit cold-blooded murder using a lethal neurotoxin, and you hired armed mercenaries to eliminate a innocent three-year-old child and her mother.”
Victor hung his head, trembling.
“The court finds no mitigating circumstances whatsoever in your actions,” Judge Vance declared coldly. “On the charge of attempted murder in the first degree, you are sentenced to thirty years in federal penitentiary. On the charge of corporate fraud and racketeering, you are sentenced to an additional fifteen years, to run consecutively.”
A loud gasp and subsequent burst of applause erupted across the gallery.
CRACK.
“Forty-five years total, without the possibility of early parole,” Judge Vance ruled firmly. “Take the defendant into custody.”
As federal marshals grabbed Victor’s arms to lead him out through the side door, Victor turned his head desperately toward Preston one last time.
“Preston!” Victor wept, his voice cracking with pathetic desperation. “Please! Tell them to reduce it! I have nothing left!”
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Preston sat straight in his seat, looking at his former friend with neither hatred nor pity. He didn't say a single word. He simply raised his glass of water from the ledge in front of him, took a slow, deliberate sip, and set it back down.
Victor was dragged through the iron doors, which slammed shut with a heavy, final CLANG, sealing his fate forever.
