CLAUDE SPEED STOOD still amid the silenced crowd awaiting the final verdict. He couldn't feel anything, not even the tap of the lawyer upon his shoulders. A distinct pinching pain lingered in his chest, and he felt himself getting smaller with each second that passed. Tears were starting to well in his eyes, but he tried his best to stop them from falling. He knew what was going to happen; there was nothing he could do to dodge it.
Not a tear, he thought. I won't shed a tear.
From the jury, the courtroom clerk walked toward the man on the elevated bench. On a huge, stainless steel plate was his name, Judge Oliver Scarbein, Chief of Justice of Liberty City. He received the verdict nonchalantly from the clerk who paused near the witness stand. Fixing his eyeglasses that dangled loosely in his eyes as he unfolded the document, the judge nodded, then handed back the paper over to the clerk.
There was a momentary pause; the clerk cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
"In the case of Speed versus The People Of Liberty City, the defendant is given the verdict of GUILTY beyond reasonable doubt of Robbery resulting in Multiple Homicide, as amended, and is sentenced to ten years of imprisonment with no possibility of parole as charged in the indictment, so say we all…"
Claude could clearly recall everything. The sirens of both police and armed vehicles surrounded the Liberty City Bank as he and his companions escaped the building. Behind him, she was with two men holding briefcases and dashing for the exit at the back. Loud footsteps thumped on the floors, following their path, and the moment they turned to the hallway that led to the exit door, a group of police appeared on the other side.
"Get in the car! I'll hold them up!"
That was what he told Catalina as the police and SWAT team charged. With the two men, she ran past him and exited at the back door, living him to deal with the approaching authorities. He fired at the officers, the gunshots blasting along with the shattering of glass and thudding bodies in the hallway.
Just a few more steps.
He walked backward little by little, attempting to stop anyone from taking a step closer. The hallway was filled with smoke and dust, and he couldn't see who was coming. He just shot at the silhouettes and figures he saw behind the cloud. As he did, Claude didn't notice that he was already at the door until he felt it touching his back.
As hastily as he could, he opened the door and fired at the police for the last time before running toward the street where their escape car supposedly waited. He dropped the rifle; it was dragging his weight. He leaped on the puddles and crevices of the vacant space scurrying to get out of there alive.
Just one more turn.
He saw the corner. The light. The drizzles in the dense air. Every step he took was a beat away from success. He turned left thinking of where he should be sitting, but it didn't matter. Whichever the vacant seat was, he thought.
As he turned to the corner, though, he saw Catalina waiting for him. She was beautiful. Her full lips complemented her bold, square-shaped chin. Her eyes were fierce but sparkling, hair was messy but sticking sultry on her sweaty face. Her body, though covered, shaped perfectly the curves of her hips and bosom. A sight he had always wanted to see.
His partner. His future.
She was pointing guns at him.
Confusion overtook him first. Was there someone at his back to whom she could be pointing? But Claude heard no footsteps, no panting, no clattering. It was just him.
A snicker painted on her face. "Sorry, babe," she tilted her head, "I'm an ambitious girl."
There was a sudden piercing pain in his chest as he saw her pull the trigger, and from the gun's snout, fumes rose slowly into the void. He wanted to talk back but he just couldn't… it was as if all the words he got were blocked in his throat. Claude fell to his knees, feeling the sting getting to his heart as his visions blurred. He was rather hurt than surprised to see the woman he had loved for many years glaring at him in a different, resentful way.
Where did I go wrong? he asked himself. Why–
He felt the damp floor on his face as his body stumbled onto the wet pavement. The creeping pain that spread in his body… a kind of agony he was not used to feeling. Broken.
Her voice was the last thing he heard before he lost everything else.
"And you… you are just small-time…"
Despite the throngs of people in the court, he felt desolate. All the faces of the people he was surrounded by were hazy.
"Mr. Speed, I would like to ask you personally, do you have anything to say to the court before I read to you the sentence?"
He snapped out of his trance and looked up at Judge Oliver Scarbein, who, in return, stared back at him indifferently. This time, he felt the touch of his lawyer in his arm. He looked at him, and his lawyer just shook his head, discouraging him to speak any longer.
"You have to plead guilty..."
The judge's brow raised, seemingly waiting for him to answer. Nevertheless, all Claude could do was shake his head.
Clearing his throat, the judge commenced, "Claude Speed, having been found guilty beyond reasonable doubt by a jury of your peers of Robbery, you are adjudicated guilty. I am sentencing you to 10 years of imprisonment without the possibility of parole."
There was a sudden clamor among the audience, and the judge was forced to call for order as the unintelligible uproar rang in Claude's ears. He was firmly transfixed on his spot when he felt a tear falling from his eye, followed by another one, and another, until his face frowned, churned, twisted… and he found himself crying helplessly as the authorities put handcuffs on his wrists. As the police escorts ushered him out of the court, his fists clenched while thinking of everything that he had lost in the battle, defeated and betrayed by the very person he trusted and loved.
