Darren sighed as he watched another underpass member load up another crate of ammo and guns into a barge. The cigarette in his mouth hardly calmed his nerves.
Ever since the arrow attacked Dre they have been on high alert but there is no rest for the wicked. Once Dre was arrested their boss ordered underpass presence to pull back.
Then the order came down to rapidly increase their presence. They were on the streets more now than before Dre was arrested Darren kind of understood it. Their boss wanted to show a strong front to both the outside world and the underpass members that Dre's arrest means nothing they are still strong.
Darren took another drag of cig, inhaling and holding the smoke before letting it go in a long steady breath. He's met the boss a total of three times, each more puzzling than the last.
This most recent time he was warm and welcoming, apologizing that Darren didn't get the promotion he wanted but he still got a better role.
Darren shook his head and smiled softly, he remembered feeling proud of himself when the boss said he was watching his progress and he is one of the best in star city.
The time he met him before that, their boss was massacring his enemies.
"Everything good?" Darren asked the man next to him
"Yes sir, they will leave port immediately."
"And the money?"
"Counted and checked for bugs."
Darren smiled, "Good let's get out of here."
Darren didn't know much, he didn't know what tomorrow would look like. He didn't know how Dre was going to get out of this one.
But; what he did know was there boss is going to get Dre out. After all he has never met a more terrifying man.
****
The following morning, Dre was escorted into the courthouse with his hands cuffed in front of him and his injured leg moving stiffly beneath him. He could say what he wanted about his arrest but they did get him a good doctor at least.
The pain had dulled considerably since his arrest, but every step still reminded him that Oliver Queen had put an arrow through him and then handed him over to the police as though he were a particularly troublesome package. Reporters crowded the courthouse steps, shouting questions as officers guided Dre through the doors. He ignored them all, keeping his eyes forward while cameras flashed around him.
Inside, the courthouse was quieter, but not by much. Dre could feel eyes following him as he was led through the corridors. Uniformed officers watched him with suspicion, clerks whispered behind desks, and more than one person glanced at the photographs of him already circulating online. Apparently being a mysterious homeless man who had somehow become a senior figure in a nationwide criminal organization made for excellent television.
Irving Brooks walked beside him carrying a leather briefcase, looking completely unbothered by the circus surrounding them. His suit was immaculate, his tie perfectly straight, and his expression so calm that Dre couldn't help wondering whether the man had ever experienced stress in his life.
"You nervous?" Irving asked without looking at him.
Dre snorted. "About what?"
"The possibility of spending the next several years in prison."
"I figure if you were worried, I'd be worried."
Irving glanced at him.
"That is an impressively irresponsible level of confidence."
"Thanks."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"I'll take it anyway."
They entered the courtroom.
Dre's eyes moved across the room as the bailiff directed him toward the defense table. The gallery wasn't full, but there were enough people present to make it clear this wasn't being treated as an ordinary hearing. Several reporters occupied the back rows, while representatives from the Star City Police Department sat behind the prosecution. Dre spotted a few familiar faces from the night of his arrest.
He ignored them.
Irving pulled out the chair beside him.
"Sit."
Dre lowered himself carefully, his injured leg stretching out beneath the table.
"You comfortable?" Irving asked.
"Like I'm on vacation."
"Good. Keep that attitude. Just don't speak unless I tell you to."
Dre gave him a sideways look.
"You're no fun."
"I've been told."
The judge entered a few moments later, and the room immediately settled into silence. Dre straightened as best he could while the clerk read the charges into the record. Hearing them spoken aloud made the situation feel more substantial than it had when Irving had listed them in the interrogation room: unlawful possession of a firearm, possession of restricted weapons, conspiracy, suspected involvement in organized criminal activity, and the murder of Daniel Brickwell.
Dre's jaw tightened at the last one.
Brickwell was dead.
That was all the court needed to know.
Irving rose when the judge finished.
"Your Honor, the defense is requesting that Mr. Matthews be released on bail while these proceedings continue."
The prosecutor immediately stood.
"The state objects."
The judge looked between them.
"On what grounds?"
The prosecutor stepped forward with a thick folder in his hands. "Your Honor, the defendant presents an extraordinary flight risk and a significant danger to the community. The circumstances surrounding his arrest alone demonstrate that this is not an ordinary defendant."
Irving remained seated, calmly listening.
The prosecutor continued. "Mr. Matthews has no established residential address, no employment history, no documented family ties within Star City, and, according to our investigation, no verifiable identity prior to his association with the organization known as the Underpass."
A murmur moved through the courtroom.
Dre's expression hardened.
No identity.
The very thing that had allowed him to disappear for years was now being presented as evidence that he couldn't be trusted.
The prosecutor lifted another document.
"The Underpass is not a local street gang. Intelligence gathered by law enforcement indicates that this organization has established itself in multiple major American cities, including Gotham and Star City, with suspected connections to criminal operations throughout the United States. The defendant is believed to be one of its senior members."
Irving leaned toward Dre.
"They're going to lean hard on the organization."
"No shit."
"Let them."
The prosecutor continued, "Mr. Matthews has demonstrated access to significant financial resources, transportation, weapons, and personnel. He was apprehended following an armed confrontation involving members of his organization, and officers recovered multiple firearms and quantities of ammunition from the property where he was found."
Irving finally rose.
"Objection. The prosecution is conflating allegations concerning the property with evidence against my client personally."
"Sustained," the judge replied. "Counsel for the state, be precise."
The prosecutor nodded but did not appear discouraged.
"My point, Your Honor, is that Mr. Matthews has the means to disappear. He has associates throughout the country, access to money, and connections to an organization capable of moving people and resources across state lines."
He turned toward the judge.
"And he has motive."
Irving raised an eyebrow.
The prosecutor continued, "If convicted of even a portion of these charges, Mr. Matthews faces substantial prison time. He has every reason to flee rather than remain in Star City and face prosecution."
Irving stood slowly.
"Your Honor, may I?"
The judge nodded.
Irving adjusted his cuffs and walked to the center of the courtroom.
"Ladies and gentlemen—"
He stopped himself and glanced toward the judge.
"Apologies, Your Honor. Old habit."
Dre fought back a grin.
Irving continued, "The state has just spent several minutes describing my client as a shadowy figure capable of disappearing across the country. The problem is that almost everything they have said is speculation and can only be true if my client is already guilty."
He gestured toward the prosecution's folder.
"They say Mr. Matthews is a senior member of a nationwide organization. They say he has access to extensive resources. They say he has connections throughout the country. What they have not said is that they possess a single piece of evidence demonstrating that Mr. Matthews intends to flee or that he is connected to this underway or whatever."
The prosecutor began to object.
Irving raised one finger.
"Let me finish, Your Honor."
The judge nodded.
"Mr. Matthews was injured during his arrest. He has remained in police custody. He has cooperated with the basic procedures required of him, and there is no evidence that he has attempted to flee, contacted anyone for the purpose of arranging an escape, destroyed evidence, or threatened a witness."
Irving turned slightly toward Dre.
"My client has lived in this country without a conventional paper trail for much of his life. That is unusual, certainly. But unusual does not mean dangerous, and it does not mean he is a flight risk."
He returned his attention to the judge.
"The state is asking this court to punish Mr. Matthews for the absence of evidence that he has a stable conventional life. They're taking the fact that he has no mortgage, no corporate employment record, and no lengthy list of documented relatives and somehow transforming those facts into proof that he intends to run."
Irving paused.
"If anything, Your Honor, the state's argument demonstrates the opposite. Mr. Matthews has spent years living in this city without attempting to flee anywhere. He has roots here. His community is here. His legal representation is here. And he has every incentive to remain and contest these allegations."
The prosecutor stood again.
"Your Honor, the defense is deliberately minimizing the defendant's connections. Mr. Matthews isn't some ordinary man with an unconventional lifestyle. He is suspected of belonging to a violent criminal organization. The police have reason to believe he has access to people willing to use violence on his behalf."
Irving turned toward him.
"Suspected."
The prosecutor frowned.
Irving smiled faintly.
"That word is doing a lot of work today."
A few people in the gallery chuckled before the judge silenced them with a look.
Irving continued, "The state suspects he belongs to an organization. The state suspects he has connections. The state suspects he is dangerous. But suspicion is not evidence, and certainly isn't a substitute for demonstrating that my client poses an actual danger to the community if released under appropriate conditions."
He returned to the defense table and opened his briefcase.
"We are prepared to accept strict conditions. Electronic monitoring. A curfew. Restrictions on travel outside Star City. Regular check-ins with pretrial services. Whatever reasonable conditions this court believes necessary."
Irving closed the briefcase.
"But pretrial detention should not become punishment simply because the state finds my client's background inconvenient to investigate."
The courtroom went quiet.
Dre looked at Irving with something approaching admiration.
The prosecutor rose for one final rebuttal.
"Your Honor, the state maintains that no combination of conditions can adequately address the risk presented by this defendant. His associates have already demonstrated a willingness to engage in violence. The defendant himself was found at the center of an armed confrontation. If released, there is nothing preventing him from using the resources of the Underpass to disappear."
Dre leaned slightly toward Irving.
"Does he ever shut up?"
Irving didn't look at him.
"Apparently not."
The judge reviewed the documents in front of her, occasionally making notes. Dre waited, his fingers tapping lightly against the underside of the table. For once, he had no joke ready.
The judge finally looked up.
"I've considered the arguments from both sides. The allegations against Mr. Matthews are serious, and the court recognizes the concerns raised regarding his lack of a documented residential and employment history. However, the state has not established sufficient grounds at this stage to conclude that he is an immediate danger to the community or that no reasonable conditions could mitigate the risk of flight."
Dre's eyebrows rose.
The prosecutor shifted uneasily.
"Accordingly, bail will be granted."
Dre exhaled slowly.
Irving's mouth curved into the faintest smile.
"There will be conditions," the judge continued. "Mr. Matthews will surrender any passport or travel documentation in his possession. He will remain within Star City County unless otherwise authorized by the court, submit to electronic monitoring, and report regularly to pretrial services. Additionally he will be staying in a area designated by the court."
Dre glanced at Irving.
"That last one's going to be a bitch."
Irving whispered without moving his lips.
"I'll handle it."
The judge continued speaking, but Dre barely listened.
He was getting out it was time to go home.
****
Nolan smoke on a cigarette leaning against the terrace footsteps were heard behind him but he barely paid it any mind.
"I'm telling you this is your fault I'm addicted to this shit." Nolan complained
"It was a group effort." Kieran argued lounging in one of the chairs
"Yea yeah." Nolan puffed, "And whose fault is our alcohol habit?"
No one had an answer.
"Okay maybe all of our faults." Nolan smiled and turned, "Amanda, Brock. Take a seat I'm glad you could make it."
Brock who escorted Amanda inside nodded but stayed standing Amanda went to take a seat on the same chair Kieran was in, "Not there."
Amanda looked at Nolan and back at the seat, "Of course, sorry what was I thinking." She laughed and smiled awkwardly and took the other chair
"Did you hear?" Nolan asked her
Amanda nodded, "I just saw the news he's out on bail already. I was sure the judge was going to deny it too."
Nolan laughed, "You have a lot to learn Amanda, the judge didn't have a choice. I let him place all of those restrictions to make it look less suspicious."
A look of understanding crossed her face, "I see, will he be as helpful during the whole case?"
Nolan shrugged, "If we need him to be, I don't want to accidentally lose an asset if he plays his hand too often."
Amanda nodded.
"I told you Amanda, pay attention to everything. You will learn a lot in the coming days." Nolan took a drag of his cigarette and looked out into the city
So much to do such little time.