Cloak and Dagger

(CW: Adult content)

Part I-The Secret

The cell walls were much larger than back at the woman’s prison. A last recall to the sliver of freedom they were missing out on, she supposed. Gabrielle Davis was in a holding cell in the Wilson County Courthouse, awaiting the beginning of her trial. She had been there now for hours, plenty of time to meet with her defense team, family, but most of all, time to convince herself she was strong enough to survive prison.

“Gabrielle Davis, please rise”, the brawny Judge Lawson said after the courtroom filled and the jury had been sworn in. His eyes were hidden behind bushy, gray brows, but Gabrielle felt their judgement.

Gabrielle rose from her seat with her defense lawyer, Peyton Mulch. The courtroom was packed, as expected, being such a high-profile case, amassing news anchors and onlookers worldwide. Half the world wanted to see her meet the needle, she expected.

“You have been charged with 12 counts of drug trafficking and distribution” Judge Lawson begins, reading from a piece of paper, “6 counts of extortion, 1 count of murder, and 2 counts of assault with intent to kill. You have requested a trial by jury, and they have all been sworn in. Is the defense ready to present it’s case?”

Peyton Mulch cleared his throat. “Yes, your honor” he says with a stride of confidence. His freshly tailored suit with its cutting creases pressed against his form. Gabrielle settled for a floral blouse underneath a black shirt with tailored gray slacks.

“The floor is yours Mr. Mulch” Lawson says, leaving the court in a state of wonder.

After the opening statements, Gabrielle felt like she was in a good position. She had watched the faces of the jury as they heard both the prosecutors and defenses statements, seeking looks of endearment, judgement, or a mixture of both.

“I call on the stand, Mr. Paublo Cordova,” Mulch stated, beginning the defenses case.

The bailiff gathered Mr. Cordova from around back and sworn him onto the stand.

“Mr. Cordova, when did you first meet my client, Gabrielle Davis?”

Gabrielle’s mind traveled to the moment they met, over seven months ago at a hotel in downtown Greenville.

“Mr. Cordova?” She greeted the Spanish stranger. She had been selected by him from the escort agency she was employed by. “I’m Gabrielle Davis.” He had a fetish for mid-40 American women with brown hair.

“Ah, yes, hello” he greeted her with a hand outstretched. His Spanish accent was thick and heavy on the double L’s. “Mi corozoncita, how was the drive?”

“Bueno” she replied, with a warm smile. She had been trained to smile a lot. Also had learned some Spanish for this client, paying her $400,000 for a one-month service. “You’re aware of how this works, I suspect.”

“Si, I am. Sexual ‘favors’ are chargeable by you. You have your limits. I only require your assistance as my ‘wife’ on this trip.” He seemed knowledgeable enough, Gabrielle thought. He was smiling at her, and despite having a loving husband back home, she thought Mr. Cordova was exceptionally handsome.

The court was mid-way through Mr. Mulch’s questioning of Mr. Cordova. Gabrielle felt bad about it so far but knew her family in the seats behind her were terrified, angry, even. Especially her husband, who had just heard the terrible truth of his wife and her escort service. She felt ashamed, exposed and embarrassed. The defense had already planned for Mr. Cordova to lie on the stand. 

“Mr. Cordova, isn’t it true you’re the leader of the Cordova Cartel from Ecuador?” Mr. Welch was confident in his question, making it sound like a statement.

“No”, Paublo Cordova replied, just as confident. Gabrielle’s mind traveled back again:

They were on a boat, traveling from the Ecuadorian city of Guayaquil. Gabrielle was standing on the bow in a hot pink bikini, requested by Mr. Cordova, looking out to the vast ocean ahead of them.

They had had sex the night before, free of charge, as Gabrielle had gone without for so long by then, and Mr. Cordova was handsome enough for her to want it.

“Mamacita, come here” Mr. Cordova motioned with a finger. He was sitting in a chair, admiring her from behind. Gabrielle obliged and walked over to him slowly. “Mama, you’re so beautiful”, he said when she approached him, pulling the side strings of her bikini tighter. “I need you to do something for me.”

Gabrielle smiled. “And what might that be, my love?” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

Mr. Cordova’s ‘friends’ were in the cabin, watching them.

“I have some…product, I need you to hold when we make land. You’re going to do this, because I know your real name, and where your family live in North Carolina.”

Gabrielle’s heart leapt out of her chest. She swallowed, trying to seem taken back by the accusation of lying. “What do you mean?” Her hand went to the center of her breasts.

“We can do this easy, or hard, my love. I have family on stand-by at your husbands’ job, and your children’s school. You do not lie to Cordova Family.” He stood up and reached into his pocket. Gabrielle was presented with a plastic baggy of white powder.

Gabrielle looked at Mr. Cordova, smiling mischievously from the stand.

Part II-The Assault

An hour and a half had passed, and Mr. Cordova was finally off the stand. He had lied about everything, and Gabrielle knew it. The jury seemed convinced of his charade and gave Gabrielle diminishing looks.

“Your honor, I call Tony Garcia to the stand”, Mr. Welch motioned, and the bailiff fetched him. Tony was a hitman who worked for Mr. Cordova, from a small fishing village in Ecuador. Tony was sworn in, but Gabrielle could tell in his eyes, he was apt to lie as well.

“Mr. Garcia, when Mr. Paublo Cordova introduced you to my client, was there an exchange of sorts?” Mr. Welch inquired, walking around the front of the podium.

Gabrielle watched him feverishly as he recanted their introductions, but she remembered a different string of events:

“Tony” Mr. Cordova said, greeting his friend. The tone in which he said his name, told Gabrielle they had known each other for a very long time. “I want you to meet my beautiful wife, Gabrielle Davis, from America.”

Gabrielle smiled and shook his hand. Tony was a muscular, short man with a thick neck, wide jaw, and low hanging brows. “Nice to meet you, Tony.” She said sweetly.

“Encantado” he replied. “She have the stuff?” He never looked at her directly or spoke her name, probably a custom among Ecuadorian men, Gabrielle assumed.

“Mami” Mr. Cordova spat, snapping his fingers and holding his hand out. Gabrielle went into a Coach purse he had bought her the week before and presented a small brick of the white powder plastic and vacuum wrapped. She placed it into Mr. Cordova’s hand. She was too naïve at the time to know it was cocaine, in fact, she just didn’t want to know. She just did as she was told, in fear of her family’s life.

When Tony saw it, his eyes grew large and fierce. He snatched it from Mr. Cordova’s hand and took off running down the street, in some foreign place Gabrielle couldn’t recall the name of.

“Hey, puto!” Cordova yelled out. “Gabrielle, shoot him!” She screamed and pulled out the Glock 19 he had also bought her from a street dealer. Her aim was novice level at best, but she abided and hesitantly fired a shot, landing a bullet into Tony’s leg.

Mr. Garcia limped away from the stand after the series of questions. His version was, they tried to rob him of drugs, and was shot in the process to keep him captive. Her version, admittedly not any better, was not that. The court heard their testimonies, her family crying behind her. She swept her luscious, brown hair to the side and kept a straight face.

Part III-The Murder

“For my next witness your honor, I’d like to call Patricia Richard to the stand.” Mr. Welch never seemed to tire. He was all business.

He walked in front of the stand after Patricia was sworn in. She was another one of Mr. Cordova’s ‘lovers’, and a credible witness, Gabrielle had thought, unless she had been bought already by one of Mr. Cordova’s family members.

“Ms. Richard, isn’t it true you were one of Mr. Cordova’s lovers?”

“Objection! Relevance, your honor” the prosecutor butted in.

“Establishing credibility, your honor” Mr. Welch counterargued with a swift rebuttal.

“Overruled”, Judge Lawson called out.

“Ms. Richard, I have here a written statement by you, that you were in fact, in an estranged relationship with Mr. Cordova?”

She denied it, claimed the statement was coerced by the investigators and such, but Gabrielle knew the truth:

The lights in the cabin of the ship were dimly lit. There was elegant music playing from a stereo across the room, and Mr. Cordova sat in a cushioned chair by the window with a shotgun pointed at Gabrielle and Patricia.

“Kiss”, he said. “Make it good.” His lips curled menacingly as he watched them. They were forced onto the bed, unclothed, and forced to perform sexual endeavors. Gabrielle and Patricia were both teary eyed when Mr. Cordova climbed into the bed to join them.

Patricia denied it all. She stood on the stand, blonde haired and blue eyed, and lied about everything. The case seemed to be falling in the prosecutor’s favor. The jury watched as witness after witness came in, lied, and the jury made their judgements. That’s what you get when you have a lawyer assigned to you, Gabrielle thought. The cross examinations screwed her over.

“Mr. Cordova bought these witnesses off,” Mr. Welch leaned into Gabrielle during cross examinations.

“Then put me up there.” She whispered back; her lips were trembling.

“We can do that. We can’t deny you killed the victim, but we can show that Mr. Cordova forced you at gun point, and gain sympathy from the jury.” He explained.

“Okay”, she replied.

“My final witness, your honor. Gabrielle Davis.”

The walk to the stand was an uncomfortable one. The cuffs around her wrists were connected to a chain linked to a pair of cuffs around her ankles. She knew her family was watching. All she wanted was to go back in time, before she met Mr. Cordova, back to her regular day time job, before the lies, deceit and secrecy. She was sworn in, and when she sat, her eyes began to tear as she peered into the crowd of people and found her husband bawling next to their children.

The prosecution began, recanting the events that took place. The evidence was there, she did extort and kill a member of an opposing cartel. The prosecutor painted a horrible picture of her, undoubtedly paid off by Mr. Cordova like everyone else. She was called a “whore”, a “prostitute”, “escort wrench”, “drug lord”, and “murderer”. The jury were tuning in.

When the defense came, and Mr. Welch approached the bench, she felt as though her life was ruined. She hated that her family had to hear the gruesome details, but when Mr. Welch asked to hear her side of the story, she obliged:

Gabrielle, Mr. Cordova, select members of the Cordova Cartel, and a man named Basilio Sanchez were in a cold and dirty warehouse. Basilio was from another cartel, the Los Choneros, Cordova’s largest rivalry. Earlier in the day, Gabrielle had extorted him for money, promising the Cordova family would protect him, but Mr. Cordova did not want that promise, or his money. He wanted his blood.

“Grab that chainsaw”, Mr. Cordova ordered her. It was laying on the floor next to Basilio. Gabrielle was crying, clothes ripped, exhausted from the constant travels and the rapes that took place on Cordova’s boat. “Grab it!” He grabbed Gabrielle by the hair and forced her to the floor. He cocked the lever back on his gun.

“Please, no!” She cried out.

“You kill him, or we kill both of you.” He threatened.

It was an agonizing thing to do…traumatic, and psychologically damaging for Gabrielle to do. To kill another human with a chainsaw, forced to do so at gun point. As she jerked the heavy machine to and fro, feeling the circular blades rip apart the man’s flesh and bones, she let herself drift away. For the moment, she was gone. Far away, back home in North Carolina at her steady desk job. With the pictures of her husband and children of her desk. The sedimentary life of working on a computer every day. The monotony. She ached for it. Ached to be by her husbands’ side, hatred for herself building up inside her for hiding such a terrible, secret life of being an escort, and having affairs.

For the rest of the trial, she was numb. She felt as though she was laid bare, flogged, and hung out to dry. All the witnesses betrayed her and her lawyer, lied on the stand and under oath, but the prosecutor had a better case, and a better pull from Mr. Cordova’s wallet.

The closing statements were made, and Mr. Welch pleaded for the jury to render their verdict Not Guilty, due to being traumatized, coerced, raped, mentally and physically abused by Mr. Cordova.

The jury deliberated for eight hours, and when the Judge recalled everyone back to the court, Gabrielle felt a sensation of dread and fear overcome her.

The judge read the jury’s verdict after adding his own judgement, and the court found Gabrielle Davis, Guilty on all charges. She was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

There was an uproar of people screaming, crying, pleading and panting. Gabrielle turned on her heels to look at her family, who were already out the door.