CHAPTER 9
In November of that same year, the trial of the United States versus Victor Dane concluded in the United States District Court in downtown Seattle.
Victor sat at the defense table wearing a plain gray jumpsuit, his platinum cufflinks replaced by heavy steel ankle shackles, his once-imposing posture utterly ruined by months of incarceration.
His entire global corporate empire had been liquidated by federal bankruptcy trustees to pay back hundreds of millions of dollars in court-ordered restitution to victimized business owners.
The jury returned a unanimous guilty verdict on all twenty-seven federal counts, including corporate espionage, wire fraud, racketeering, and conspiracy to commit murder.
Judge Harold Thomas looked down over his glasses at Victor, delivering a blistering final statement before pronouncing the sentence.
"Victor Dane, you operated a predatory criminal enterprise that ruined lives, compromised national security, and attempted to murder an innocent man out of sheer, unadulterated greed," Judge Thomas declared sternly. "I sentence you to forty-five years in a maximum-security federal penitentiary without the possibility of parole."
Victor slumped forward on the table, weeping pathetic, silent tears as federal marshals pulled him to his feet and led him away through the side security door.
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As he was escorted out, he caught a brief glimpse of Elena and me sitting together in the front row, looking at him not with hatred or anger, but with absolute, quiet detachment.
He had thought sentiment was a weakness; he spent the rest of his life learning that a father’s love for his daughter is the most invincible force on earth.
