quired to, Le Roux noted again and again. “The government has not made me any promises,” he said.

“But you are hoping that when you are sentenced you will re- ceive a sentence of time served, right?” Hunter’s attorney asked.

“I’m hoping that when I eventually am sentenced I will receive a decent sentence,” was all Le Roux would allow. “I don’t know whether I’ve done enough to warrant a time-served sentence given the horrific nature of my criminal activity,” he added, with a tone that sounded more world-weary than contrite. “I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.”

“And after any of the murders you were involved in, did you think about turning over a new leaf after any of those?” Adam Samia’s attorney asked him.

“I would have to say no,” Le Roux said.

Samia’s attorney took the time to highlight the glaring contrast between his statements in court and the vigilante justice Le Roux had carried out against the likes of Bruce Jones and Joe Frank Zu- ñiga.

“So you thought that the punishment for cooperation should be death, right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, do you believe that you should be killed for cooperat- ing?”

“No.”

“What makes you different than Mr. Jones?”

“Nothing.”

After Le Roux, the prosecution called Tim Vamvakias, the for- mer American soldier who was already serving a twenty-year sen- tence for his role in the scheme to kill a DEA agent. He recounted much of what he’d told me by email, from his recruitment to Le Roux’s hit team by his friend Hunter, whom he called “White Kong” in emails, to the “ninja work” they had both signed on for. The defense attorneys attempted to chip away at his credibility, forcing him to repeat over and over that he was testifying only for the chance of getting his sentence reduced.