Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 312 CIPA
The courthouse’s basement was spacious and quiet.

The leather shoes stepped on the cold stone floor, as if an invisible countdown was beginning.

There were no spectators, no excited reporters, and no public clamor.

A brass plaque hangs on the heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor:
"Closed-door meeting - authorized personnel only."

Zhou Yi was escorted in by bailiffs.

The waist chain collided with the handcuffs and leg irons, making a soft, rustling noise.

The dim light shone on his face, revealing a calm, even weary expression.

On the defense table, the court-appointed lawyer was frantically organizing documents.

As he folded the paper, he smoothed out the creases with his fingertips, doing his best to avoid exchanging pleasantries with the Ministry of Justice personnel beside him.

Zhou Yi smiled at them.

Daniel didn't laugh.

He was wearing a dark suit and sat there like a stone monument.

Just then, the bailiff's voice rang out.

--"stand up."

The judge walked in through a side door, didn't look at anyone, and sat down directly.

"Take your seats."

Zhou Yi was quickly led to sit down in the center of their group.

The sound of shackles rang out.

In the prosecutor's seat, Andrew Calhoun instinctively straightened his back and stood up.

“Sir,” he said, “the state representatives, the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office, are present.”

“Andrew Calhoun, on behalf of the people of California.”

The judge nodded, waited patiently for a moment, and finally chose to proactively prompt, "The defense?"

The lawyer then realized what was happening, quickly stood up straight, and his voice was weak.

"Uh, the defense is present, the defendant is John Hernandez Garcia."

"I am Baldwin Gilbert, the court-appointed defense attorney."

Then, Daniel also stood up.

“Sir, Daniel, from the Department of Justice’s National Security Division.”

"To be present and assist the defense with procedural matters involving classified information."

"It's on record."

There was no sound of a photographer's shutter, no rustling of papers turning.

Andrew glanced at the empty gallery seats and took a deep breath.

"Your Excellency, the main points of the prosecution in this case are as follows."

"On the evening of July 12, 2013, the defendant illegally entered a private sanatorium called 'House of the Saviors'."

“There were obvious signs of forced entry at the scene, and four male bodies were found, all of whom were licensed private security contractors.”

"The defendant was discovered and detained on the spot by law enforcement officers."

"The investigation report shows that a shoe print that matches the pattern on the sole of the defendant's shoes was found near the deceased."

"The situation at the scene indicated that this was a violent conflict, and the defendant was very likely directly involved in it."

Andrew raised his voice slightly as he spoke, trying to appear confident and assertive.

"The state believes that the defendant is involved in at least unlawful trespassing and aggravated assault, and must provide a reasonable explanation for the deaths of the four victims."

"The state has requested a subpoena for the arrest of the police officer."

"permit."

"Detective Kate Rivers."

Kate was suddenly called out, and even though she was mentally prepared, she still couldn't help but feel her palms sweat and her heart race.

Despite a multitude of thoughts swirling in her mind, she still strode toward the witness stand as usual, raised her hand, and read the oath.

"Detective Morgan, please describe what happened that night."

“My partner and I arrived at the ‘House of the Savior’ around 2:32 p.m.,” she said.

"The gate was unlocked and there were no security guards on duty inside the compound."

"The door to the room on the second-floor corridor was not fully closed, and a man could be seen lying on the ground with obvious bloodstains on the back of his head."

Kate paused, glancing out of the corner of her eye at her boyfriend in the prosecutor's seat.

"I then went into the next room and met the defendant."

“I ordered him to put down the items he was holding, and he complied without resistance. I then took him into custody.”

"So you personally confirmed that the defendant was at the crime scene?" Andrew pressed on.

"Yes."

"His state while he was being controlled?"

This time, Kate pursed her lips and hesitated for a long time before saying, "Calm down and cooperate."

Andrew paused slightly when she didn't answer as agreed, but continued. "During the subsequent examination, were any physical evidence related to the defendant discovered?"

“Yes,” Kate said softly.

"Fingers extracted near the deceased matched those of the defendant."

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as the process finally returned to normal, and his confidence grew stronger.

"Other than that?"

“On the wooden floor of the corridor, some shoe prints match the soles of the defendant’s shoes.”

Upon hearing this, Andrew showed a satisfied expression.

"So, can you confirm that the defendant not only appeared at the scene, but is also directly related to some of the physical evidence?"

"Yes."

"very good."

Andrew straightened his sleeves and walked back to his seat.

At that moment, he had almost mentally rehearsed the entire closing statement.

The chain of evidence is clear: four bodies were found at the scene, and each link in the chain is crucial.

Even if the other party brings up the excuse of "national security," it is at most a gesture on paper.

This case has absolutely nothing to do with classified information; I've already scrutinized it more than a dozen times—there's no reason why this explanation should hold water.

Andrew then smiled and looked toward the judge's bench:

"Your Excellency, no further questions."

"Cross-examination by the defense?" The judge put down his pen.

The lawyer braced himself against the table in front of him.

He opened his mouth, but fell silent half a second later, turning his pleading gaze to the man beside him.

Daniel ignored him and got up on his own.

“Your Excellency,” he said, “the defense has filed a procedural application prior to the crossover.”

"explain."

Andrew clenched his fist silently.

It's here after all, he thought. Let's see whose methods are more sophisticated.

"In accordance with the relevant provisions of the Confidential Information Procedure Act, the defense requests this court to examine a confidential document."

"Due to the nature of the material, it is not suitable to deliver it to the other party or read it aloud publicly."

"The defense also requests a protective order to restrict the scope and manner of use of the above materials in this case."

Andrew immediately raised his voice in rebuttal:
"Sir, the state objects! This is a state-level lawsuit, and we have never agreed to it—"

"Objection overruled," the judge said without blinking. "This is federal procedure. Sit down."

Daniel did not turn around to observe Andrew's expression at that moment.

He casually picked up a thickly sealed kraft paper bag.

The clerk immediately took it and delivered it to the judge's bench.

The judge lowered his head, put on his reading glasses, and began to flip through the pages.

Andrew forced himself to remain calm.

He tried to discern the judge's gestures, pauses, and even the frequency of his eyelid twitching.

Unfortunately, there is nothing.

The man's expression remained indifferent as he read page after page, as if it were a routine task.

Time was stretched out indefinitely.

For the first time in his life, Andrew felt impatient.

Immediately following was the growing anxiety that was being eroded.

Little by little, it gradually eroded that remaining bit of confidence.

Finally, the judge put down the stack of documents.

No explanation, no comment.

He looked up, his tone flat:

"This case is dismissed and may never be reopened."

Andrew's breath hitched.

For a moment, he couldn't even process what "indefinitely" meant; he just felt as if his brain had been hit by a heavy object and was buzzing.

A few seconds later, it belatedly dawned on me that all my efforts, evidence, and testimony had vanished in the blink of an eye with that one sentence.

And he doesn't even deserve to know the reason.

“Your Excellency—” Andrew began, bewildered.

The judge, however, ignored him, got up, and left.

For some reason, Andrew sensed a hint of dishevelment in that figure's back.

(End of this chapter)