11. The Deposition Trap

The arraignment was scheduled for nine in the morning, but the media circus began at dawn. By the time the armored transport van pulled up to the Capriton Federal Courthouse, the streets were packed with reporters, protesters, and the simply curious, all jostling for a glimpse of the bare-knuckle fighter who had supposedly tried to bring down a titan of industry with forged evidence. Leon Vald could hear them through the van's steel walls, a dull roar of accusation and speculation that followed him into the loading dock and up the service elevator to the holding cells.

Elena Ruiz was waiting for him in a small consultation room, her face drawn and pale. She had spent the night fighting the charges, filing emergency motions, calling in every favor she had accumulated in eighteen months of legal warfare. It hadn't been enough.

"The judge is Meredith Stern," Elena said, her voice flat. "She's one of the three Crane had on his payroll. The evidence from the ledger is clear—she received over two hundred thousand aurens in campaign contributions routed through shell companies. She's not going to give us a fair hearing."

Leon sat down across from her, his wrists still cuffed. "What are our options?"

"Limited. I can argue for bail, but Stern will deny it. I can challenge the evidence, but she'll rule against us. The only real move is to preserve objections for appeal, and hope that by the time the appeal is heard, we've gathered enough independent evidence to blow this case wide open."

"And if we can't? If the Commissioner succeeds in burying everything?"

Elena met his eyes. "Then you go to prison for a very long time. Obstruction of justice. Evidence tampering. Conspiracy to defraud. They're piling on charges, Leon. They want to make an example of you."

The courtroom was a cathedral of dark wood and cold marble, designed to inspire awe and submission. Leon stood at the defendant's table while the gallery filled with reporters and curious onlookers. He saw Kael in the back row, his laptop bag clutched to his chest like a shield. He saw Cassian Voss, his wasted body propped up in a wheelchair, his eyes burning with the same fierce intensity that had driven him for two years. He saw Commander Torven in the corner, his massive frame somehow diminished by the surroundings.

Judge Stern entered, and the room fell silent. She was a severe woman with silver hair and a face that had been carved by decades of judgment. Her eyes, when they fell on Leon, held nothing but contempt.

"Leon Vald, you are charged with obstruction of justice, evidence tampering, conspiracy to commit securities fraud, and filing false statements with a government agency. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Leon said, his voice steady.

Elena rose. "Your Honor, we request that the defendant be released on bail pending trial. Mr. Vald has deep ties to the community. His mother is currently recovering from major surgery at Saint Dymphna's Hospital. He poses no flight risk—"

"Denied." Judge Stern didn't even look up from her papers. "The charges are serious, the evidence is substantial, and the defendant has demonstrated a willingness to manipulate the legal system for personal gain. Bail is denied. The defendant will be remanded to Denham Prison until trial."

Denham Prison. The same facility where Kael's father had been sent three years ago, serving a fifteen-year sentence for a crime he hadn't committed. The symmetry was not lost on Leon.

As the bailiffs led him away, he caught Kael's eye one last time. The boy nodded, a silent promise. He wouldn't stop. None of them would stop.

The deposition was scheduled for three days later, in a conference room at the Securities Commission headquarters. It was supposed to be a routine evidentiary hearing—an opportunity for both sides to examine the evidence before trial. But Leon knew, from the moment he was led into the room, that it was anything but routine.

Aldric Vane was waiting for him, his silver-rimmed glasses catching the fluorescent light. Marek's brother. The fixer. The man who had made Leon sign away his soul in exchange for the right to fight. He was flanked by a team of attorneys, their faces as blank as masks.

Seated across the table was Julian Kast, the defense attorney who had supposedly turned on Marek. But Kast wouldn't meet Leon's eyes, and his presence here, on the Commission's side of the table, told Leon everything he needed to know. The betrayal had been another layer of the trap.

"Mr. Vald," Aldric Vane said, his voice smooth as silk. "Thank you for joining us. We have a number of questions regarding your involvement in the Titan Dynamics matter. Please remember that you are under oath."

Elena sat beside Leon, her expression controlled but watchful. "My client reserves the right to invoke his Fifth Amendment privilege where appropriate."

"Of course. We wouldn't dream of infringing on Mr. Vald's constitutional rights." Aldric's smile was thin and predatory. "Let's start at the beginning. How did you first become involved with the Aegis Combat League?"

Leon told the truth. He told them about his mother's diagnosis, the medical bills, Marco Denaro's offer. He told them about the fight with Ratko, the thirty thousand aurens, the contract he had signed. He told them about Kael Doran finding the recording device, about Cassian Voss's list of dead fighters, about Elena Ruiz and the lawsuit.

And then Aldric Vane began to twist the truth into something unrecognizable.

"So you accepted a payment of thirty thousand aurens from the Aegis Combat League, an organization you now claim was engaged in criminal activity. You signed a contract acknowledging that the league was a legitimate sports entertainment enterprise. And then, after your mother's surgery was scheduled, you approached a law firm with allegations of fraud." Aldric removed his glasses and polished them slowly. "Isn't it true, Mr. Vald, that you fabricated the evidence on the recording device in order to extort additional money from Titan Dynamics?"

"No."

"Isn't it true that you worked with Cassian Voss to plant the recording device under the ring platform, knowing it would be discovered and used to support a false narrative of corporate fraud?"

"No."

"Isn't it true that you accepted a bribe of two hundred thousand aurens from Victor Crane, and that when the bribe was insufficient, you decided to blackmail the company by threatening to release the fabricated evidence?"

"No." Leon's voice was steady, but his hands were clenched into fists under the table. "Everything on that device is real. The spreadsheets. The memos. The recordings. Every piece of evidence we gathered is authentic."

"Then how do you explain this?" Aldric clicked a remote, and a screen on the wall displayed a photograph. It showed Leon and Victor Crane, standing together in the gym, Crane's hand on Leon's shoulder. The photograph had been taken the day Crane had offered him the two hundred thousand aurens to throw the fight.

"That photograph was taken at the training facility. Crane approached me. He offered me money to withdraw from the championship bout. I refused."

"You refused two hundred thousand aurens? The exact amount you needed for your mother's surgery?"

"Yes."

"And you expect this panel to believe that a desperate man, facing his mother's death, would turn down the exact sum he needed to save her life?"

"I didn't turn it down because I didn't need the money. I turned it down because I wasn't willing to sell my silence. There's a difference."

Aldric smiled, the expression of a predator who had cornered his prey. "Let's talk about the recording device. You claim it was discovered by a teenage cleaning boy named Kael Doran. Convenient, isn't it? A witness with no credibility, no reputation, no way to corroborate his story."

"Kael is credible. He found the device, he brought it to me, and he's been helping the investigation ever since."

"Kael Doran's father is currently serving a fifteen-year sentence in Denham Prison for corporate espionage. Isn't it possible that Kael fabricated the evidence on the device, using skills he learned from his criminal father, in order to get revenge on the corporate system he blames for his family's destruction?"

"No."

"Isn't it possible that you and Kael Doran conspired together, with the help of Cassian Voss—a dying fighter with a grudge against the league—to manufacture evidence that would bring down Victor Crane and his associates?"

Leon looked at Aldric Vane, at his silver-rimmed glasses and his practiced smile, and felt the full weight of the system pressing down on him. Everything he had done, every risk he had taken, every sacrifice he had made, was being twisted into something ugly and self-serving. And there was nothing he could say to stop it.

"Everything I've told you is the truth," Leon said. "You can twist it however you want. You can ask the same questions a hundred different ways. The truth doesn't change."

Aldric's smile widened. "We'll see about that."

The deposition dragged on for hours. Aldric and his team picked apart every aspect of Leon's story, searching for inconsistencies, exaggerations, anything they could use to undermine his credibility. They played audio recordings—fragments of conversations, stripped of context—that seemed to show Leon discussing the evidence in ways that could be interpreted as fabrication. They produced documents—emails, text messages, financial records—that had been altered or taken out of context. They called expert witnesses who testified that the spreadsheets on the recording device could have been created by anyone with basic accounting knowledge.

And through it all, Leon sat in his chair and told the truth, over and over again, while the truth was dissected and distorted and rebuilt into something unrecognizable.

During a break, Elena pulled him aside. "They're setting us up for something. I can feel it. This isn't just about discrediting you—they're building toward a bigger reveal."

"What kind of reveal?"

"I don't know. But Julian Kast is here, and he's supposed to be on our side. Something is wrong."

When the deposition resumed, Aldric Vane stood and addressed the panel with the confidence of a man who knew he was about to deliver a knockout blow.

"We have one final piece of evidence to present," he said. "A witness who can speak directly to Mr. Vald's character and motivations. A witness who knows him better than almost anyone."

The door opened, and Selene Voss walked into the room.

She looked exactly as she had the last time Leon had seen her—polished, professional, utterly in control. But her eyes, when they met Leon's, held something he hadn't seen before. Not triumph. Not satisfaction. Something closer to regret.

"Ms. Voss," Aldric said, "you were the Director of Fighter Relations for the Aegis Combat League. You interacted extensively with Mr. Vald during his time in the circuit. Can you describe the nature of your relationship?"

"Leon Vald was a fighter I recruited personally," Selene said, her voice clear and steady. "I believed he had potential. I believed he could be an asset to the league."

"And did Mr. Vald ever discuss his motivations for fighting?"

"Frequently. He was desperate for money. His mother was dying, and he would have done anything to save her. I told him, on more than one occasion, that his desperation made him vulnerable. That it could be exploited." Selene paused, her gaze flickering toward Leon. "I warned him that the people he was dealing with were dangerous. I told him to be careful."

Aldric's expression flickered—just for an instant, a crack in his polished facade. This wasn't the testimony he had been expecting.

"But you continued to work with him," Aldric pressed. "You helped him prepare for the championship bout. You gave him access to the Obsidian Arena. You provided him with information that he used to build his case against Titan Dynamics."

"I did. Because I believed, and still believe, that what Titan Dynamics was doing was wrong. That the Aegis Combat League was not a legitimate sports enterprise. That Victor Crane and his associates were engaged in systematic fraud and, on multiple occasions, murder." Selene turned to face the panel directly. "I have been working undercover for four years, gathering evidence against Crane and his network. Everything I did—every document I provided, every access code I shared—was done in service of that investigation."

The room erupted. Aldric was on his feet, shouting objections. Julian Kast was staring at Selene as if he had never seen her before. The panel members were whispering urgently to each other.

And Leon understood. Selene hadn't betrayed him. She had been playing a longer game than anyone had realized—a game that required her to appear loyal to the Commissioner while secretly building a case against him. The extraction from Facility Theta. The access codes for the arena. All of it had been part of her plan.

But there was something else in her eyes as she looked at Leon. A warning.

"Ms. Voss," one of the panel members said, "are you aware that your testimony directly contradicts the official position of the Securities Commission?"

"I am. And I have evidence to support everything I've said." Selene reached into her briefcase and produced a stack of documents. "Financial records. Internal communications. Recorded conversations. All of it proving that Commissioner Aldric Vane has been actively protecting the Titan Dynamics conspiracy for years."

The door burst open. Commissioner Aldric Vane himself strode into the room, flanked by armed security officers. His face was red with fury.

"This deposition is over," the Commissioner announced. "Ms. Voss is a disgruntled employee with a history of mental instability. Her testimony is inadmissible, and her evidence is tainted. Security, escort her from the building."

As the guards moved toward Selene, she caught Leon's eye one last time. "Joren is safe," she said quietly. "I got him out before they could move him. He's with Cassian. And Leon—there's a third name on the memorandum. It's not the Commissioner. It's someone higher. Someone who's been running everything from the very beginning."

"Who?"

But before Selene could answer, the guards seized her arms and dragged her from the room. The Commissioner stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing with cold fury.

"This deposition is adjourned," he said. "The defendant will be returned to Denham Prison pending trial. And Ms. Ruiz—I suggest you advise your client to consider a plea agreement. The alternative will be... unpleasant."

As Leon was led away in handcuffs, he looked back at Elena. She was already on her phone, her face intense. Kael had slipped out of the room during the chaos, and Leon knew, without being told, that the boy was already working on decrypting whatever information Selene had managed to pass along.

The fight was far from over. Selene's testimony had cracked the facade of the Commission's case. The evidence she had provided would be challenged, suppressed, attacked—but it was out there now. The truth was out there.

And somewhere in the shadows of Capriton's corridors of power, the person whose name was on that redacted memorandum was still watching. Still waiting. Still pulling strings that no one could see.

The trial was still weeks away. But the real battle had already begun.