On 21 Feb 2024, Juan got his day in court. Jurors heard about Honduran cocaine labs and truck caravans with AK-47s, rocket-propelled grenade launchers, bazookas, and Claymore mines, while officers from the corrupt National Police escorted the shipments armed with AR-15 rifles and 9mm handguns.
The same officers collected from the cartels, with witnesses remembering Tony turning up to collect with guards armed with ARs. One of the main trafficking syndicates was the Sinaloa Cartel, led by Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán. In return for the millions in bribes they paid Tony, they received air cover in and out of Honduras, along with any intelligence on DEA activities, investigations and even flight data. Prosecutors described the operation as a cocaine superhighway straight to the US.
The details were all laid out in Tony's books, cross referenced with notebooks from Honduran military and security officials. Hard evidence - the rocket launchers, hollowed out compartments in vehicles, cash and drugs were all exhibited, confirmed by witnesses from the cartels.
Juan took the stand himself, saying he'd always worked hard to bust drug traffickers, extraditing a bunch to the US himself. It was all a lie, he said, dreamed up by the cartels themselves, who wanted to take down a great guy.
Juan wasn't able to say why his brother ratted him out or kept such meticulous accounts. Shurely shome mishtake, he said.
The jury didn't buy it. Guilty, the foreperson said.
Juan faced a
minimum 40 year sentence. He got 45.
Four years of painstaking work by the DEA and three by the DOJ. A landmark case. A narco-state stopped, a corrupt prez busted, a cocaine highway cut off at the pass. Drug enforcement, justice and even diplomacy at its finest.
Juan's own government had reviewed the evidence, his own Supreme Court judge ruled on his extradition. Tony was already serving a life sentence for his role. A court in New York was hardly going to disregard such compelling evidence. Who would?
Only one.
The big fella heard all about it over breakfast at Mar a Lago.
Who? He said. Never heard of him.
He's a friend of ours, the big fella was told. He's a bit like Bolsenaro, only he was convicted in
our courts.
Really? DL said, looking for the ketchup.
A total corrupt set-up. A
Biden prosecution. Absolute lawfare.
The big fella's eyes narrowed.
Maybe he should get a quick pardon, sir. Just saying.
DL wasn't sure. He thought he might need to wait and see what happens.
We could do that, we could. Only thing is, they're having an election down there next week. It's tight. If we release Hernandez, it could tip it in our favour.
Who's running?
Some leftist hack, Maduro-backed for sure. And our guy, a true patriot.
He's Trump?
As Trump as they come. A
Trumpero.
So....
DL didn't know what to ask, it was all too complicated.
Our guy's from the same party as Hernandez. Pardon him, and you get a friend in Honduras. He'll do whatever you want. He's happy to give us a military base, anything. From Honduras, it's just a hop and a skip to Venezuela.
That was a stretch, but what did DL know? He didn't know his breakfast companion had been given $3 mil to make the pitch either.
DL ran it through his mind. The election next week, the Biden prosecution, Bolsenaro and another Epstein story in the New York Times.
Okay - do it.
Great! You won't regret it, sir. Talk to Suzie?
DL was eating his steak.
It was better to go straight to Suzie, with a clear order from above. No one wanted this to go through Dave and Ed, his Special Counsel and Pardon Attorney. It would sit in their emails and never happen, like most things.
The big fella was hunched over his plate, glaring at a paper version of the New York Times.
Hm? Oh, sure. Get Suzie on it.
And that, leftards is how it's done. All's well that ends well, no?
Democracy prevailed. Who won?
Juan's buddy, of course.
He promises to join with the big fella to fight the war on drugs.
Right after he pardons himself for
corruption.
DEEP STATE !!!