#Criminal Attorney in New Jersey

[newjerseyduilawoffice]

In the times of legal turmoil, having a trusted criminal attorney on your side can be the difference between a favorable outcome and a harsh sentence. Criminal attorneys are legal professionals who specializes in defending individuals charged with criminal offenses. They are skilled negotiators who can engage in plea bargaining with prosecutors to secure favorable outcomes for their clients. Visit https://www.duilawofficenewjersey.com/criminal-defense-attorneys-nj.html for the best Criminal Attorney in New Jersey.

[thelawofficesofgregprosmush]

The expertise of a Philadelphia car accident lawyer can make a significant difference, providing essential legal assistance and guidance to help victims regain control of their lives.

[brunoandferraro]

Facing criminal charges can wreak Problem on your life. Protect yourself and your rights with a team of highly skilled New Jersey criminal defense lawyers. If you find yourself in a situation involving criminal accusations in New Jersey.

[jabalaw]

Top Criminal Defense  Attorneys in New Jersey | NJ Defense Attorneys

A reliable and well-known law office in New Jersey, Marshall Criminal Defense & DWI Lawyers offers clients facing criminal accusations excellent legal counsel. With years of experience defending clients against all kinds of criminal allegations, our team of top New Jersey Criminal Defense Attorneys has a comprehensive understanding of the criminal justice system.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities (Agatha Harkness x FemReader): Chapter One

Summary: While you attend a pretrial conference for your current case, you’re stunned to learn your opposing council is your former ex…and law school professor, Agatha Harkness

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, Light Choking, Light Degradation Kink, Mommy Kink, Hate Sex

A/N: Hi :) This idea has been bouncing around my brain since the promo pics came out. Lawyer Agatha, the gift we all need for the new year. This is my first real attempt at writing smut, but I hope y’all enjoy. Updates will be around every 2 weeks. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Feel free to let me know what you think! 💜 Also a special shout-out to my sweet girlfriend, Sarah, thank you for always listening to my crazy ideas.

Smoothing out a wrinkle from your pantsuit, you looked over your case materials from outside the courtroom. It had been almost a decade since you graduated law school, and you’d spent the time since working in corporate law as a junior attorney, before leaving the firm and working your way up as a top prosecutor. To say you were married to your job would be an understatement. It wasn’t enough to be good, you simply had to be the best. You’d always pride yourself on your ability to dig deep in a case and pull out missing details, or find a crack in a seemingly perfect alibi. You were ruthless, but you knew you had to be. The defense attorneys you found yourself battling in court were absolute sharks, and if they sensed an ounce of hesitation on your end it would be a total bloodbath.

Dealing with criminal defense cases was as interesting as it sounded, although it wasn’t what you envisioned you’d be doing after law school. You had different dreams back then, more altruistic visions of helping those who needed it. Closing your eyes, you saw a brief flash of the strikingly blue eyes and dark hair that caused you to change your choice of career, before you quickly shook those thoughts aside. It had been almost ten years since you’d allowed yourself to think about her- about any of it, and it wouldn’t benefit you to take a stroll down memory lane before the biggest case of your career.

A law clerk eventually came by to inform you the judge was ready for you. This was it. Gathering your materials, you walked through the details again in your mind. Pre-trial conferences were relatively helpful when trying to reach a plea bargain, review evidence, as well as decide what to present to the jury. There was no doubt in your mind that this case would go to trial. After all, a woman who kidnaps two children and takes them to a small town in New Jersey didn’t leave much to plead innocent from. What was the name of it, Westchester? Westmont? No, no, you mentally crossed those out, until the name finally came to mind…Westview. Westview, New Jersey.

The room was relatively empty, and you recognized the judge, Carol Danvers. She had a reputation for being rather uptight, but was typically fair in her rulings. She’d moved up through various circuit courts throughout her career, and you’d heard rumblings she was being eyed for a potential Supreme Court nomination. Setting your briefcase on the empty chair next to you, you thought of any possible hiccups from the defense. Supposedly a brief psych evaluation had been done after the incident to rule anything out, so they wouldn’t try and plead insanity, right? You couldn’t see Carol ruling in favor of that. There was the small problem of genetics; the woman was the boys’ birth mother. But, you’d looked over the adoption contracts, as had your colleagues, and they were airtight. It had been a closed adoption, and from what you could tell there had been no contact for over a decade. Plus, with solid testimonies from both families and multiple eyewitnesses you weren’t worried of whatever argument the defense would make in her favor.

Speaking of the defense, you quickly realized the defense attorney hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit unusual. Racking your brain, you tried to remember the name of the attorney Yelena said was leading the case, but no one came to mind. Pepper Potts perhaps? Carol also appeared to notice the lack of the second attorney, as she whispered with one of the law clerks. You could barely make out what they were saying, but she sounded annoyed. But, no matter, you knew this had absolutely no impact on you.

Carol finally sighed in defeat at whatever the law clerk told her, something about hitting a fire hydrant? “Well, as we’re waiting on the defense to resolve their…tardiness, will the prosecution step forward?”

Standing up, you grabbed a copy of your materials, evidence, testimonies, anything the judge would need, before taking a step towards the judge. “Your honor, the state of New York is ready to move forward with our case. You’ll find sufficient evidence to dismiss any plea deal, as well as ensure we can schedule a trial date.”

Handing the papers to the judge, you watched as she flipped through them, an unreadable expression on her face. Minutes passed before she looked up at you. “The prosecution is dismissing the plea deal being proposed by the defense?”

Nodding, you recalled the deal that had been sent over to your office. It was preposterous, and was heavily dependent on the mental state of the defendant, or rather the lack of mental state of the defendant. “Yes, your honor. The state has inculpatory evidence to convict the defendant, as well as a number of witnesses willing to testify.”

A voice you’d only heard in your dreams for the past decade spoke up, and you nearly froze in place. “Inculpatory evidence? That’s a rather bold claim, I’d call it circumstantial at best.”

It couldn’t be. Paralyzed, you forced yourself to ignore it, to ignore her and keep your eyes locked forward. It couldn’t possibly be her, you would have remembered hearing her name as the defense attorney. Clearing your throat, you continued, trying to keep yourself calm. “With all due respect, your honor, the typical procedure for a case involving the abduction of a minor is what we’re basing this precedent on-”

An obnoxiously loud cackle cut you off, and nearly made you whip your head around in annoyance. The slow clacking of heels echoed throughout the room, followed by the faint scent of Burberry that invaded your senses. Brief flashes of lecture halls and late night office hour visits intertwined with the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey. Lengthy, heated arguments over the moral justification of various Supreme Court rulings whilst being undressed and pressed against the door. Diamond jewelry and lavish bouquets being delivered to your modest law school apartment as you sheepishly explained to your roommates you were seeing an older woman. Secret rendezvous in dimly lit piano bars in Manhattan which would end in a king size bed in a penthouse you could never dream of affording.

It all led back to the same thought, the same woman you’d done your best to let go of. The very same woman you currently found yourself standing face to face with. Agatha Harkness. Clever blue eyes met yours, and a slow smirk painted her perfect red lips. She hadn’t changed much over the past decade. Her dark hair, now peppered with some gray, was pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face, and you briefly thought of how well it suited her. The fitted black pantsuit which accentuated her features, and black heels that made her look deceptively tall as she towered over you.

For a moment it was as if no time had passed at all, and you were back in her lecture hall. But as quickly as that oddly nostalgic feeling overcame you like a tidal wave, it swept away, leaving you with the reality of the situation. Clearing your throat, you looked past Agatha, keeping your focus on Judge Danvers. “As I was saying. While looking at prior cases involving the abduction of a minor we were able to set a precedent that-”

Agatha let out another cackle, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. However it appeared Carol was at the end of her rope with patience, as she banged her gavel twice. “Does the defense have something they wish to share with the rest of us?”

“Your honor,” Agatha drawled out, her voice sweet like honey, “The prosecution is making bold assumptions on precedents that do not directly follow the evidence of this particular case. To rule anything otherwise would be direct defamation to my client.”

“Defamation?” You all but hissed, momentarily forgetting you were in the middle of a courtroom. The answering smirk Agatha gave you only fuelled your fire. “Your honor, the defense is all but negating the direct evidence of the defendant’s guilt. We would like to proceed to trial while throwing out the plea deal.”

Agatha’s shark tooth grin widened, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was baiting you to get a reaction. Typical, as she always prided herself on being ten steps ahead of her opponent. Taking a deep breath, you regained your calm composure. It would do you no good to allow your emotions to take over. That would merely ensure Agatha to have one more victory over you, one more thing she would take away from you. But things were different this time, you weren’t some feeble, naive law student fawning over her professor. The playing field was finally leveled, and it was about time she realized that.

Unfortunately, you forgot Agatha never played fair. You curiously watched her grab two folders from her briefcase, all but tossing one at you whilst handing Carol the other. “While we’re discussing the plea deal your honor, I’ve included additional information regarding my client’s psychiatric evaluation.”

Practically tearing the folder open, your eyes scanned the lengthy documents before landing on something that nearly made you fall over. Before you could get a word in, Agatha continued on. “Due to our country’s ever failing healthcare and medical practices, my client has been unable to receive a proper psychiatric evaluation. Your honor, I am requesting a continuance to this trial until my client can get the help she needs.”

Carol’s focus remained on the papers, an inscrutable expression coloring her features. “I’m granting a one month continuance for the defendant, Wanda Maximoff, to be given a psychiatric evaluation. As long as Miss Maximoff follows the terms of her probation and doesn’t leave the state of New York, we’ll resume this conference one month from today. Thank you to the prosecution and defense, you’re dismissed.”

Not wanting to see the smug smirk on Agatha’s face, you packed up your materials, including the folder Agatha gave you, and did your best to hurry out of the courtroom. It was foolish to think you’d beat Agatha at the game she taught you to play. That’s what it always was to Agatha, a game. It was like everyone around her was playing checkers while she was constructing the most elaborate game of chess known to man. All while she moved you around as whatever piece she desired; because that’s how she viewed you, as an object she could twist and mold to her liking until you outlived your usefulness.

Ignoring the familiar sound of her heels approaching, you drafted a quick email to one of your colleagues with the news of the trial being halted before going to order your Uber. You didn’t have to look up to know Agatha was standing in front of you, because that was just part of her intricate plan. She surely knew you were furious, because of course she did. Hadn’t she once told you she knew everything? At the time you thought it was a cheeky remark to make you laugh, but looking back you came to terms with the fact that the only person Agatha Harkness could ever care for was herself.

You were growing weary of the rising tension, so you finally broke the silence, keeping your eyes locked on your phone. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m not sure,” Agatha replied, and although you weren’t looking at her you could practically feel her gaze burning into you. “I never took you for a sore loser, dear.”

There it was, she was trying to get her claws back in you. Keeping your tone even, you checked on the status of your Uber. “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. I’m just doing my job.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, your phone was ripped from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, angrily whipping your head up and your eyes narrowed, meeting the deep blue eyes you used to get lost in. “Give me back my phone.”

“Checking for your ride?” Agatha mocked, arching an eyebrow up at you. “Is that more interesting than talking to me?”

“Watching paint dry would be more interesting than speaking with you,” You retorted, your discomfort quickly growing.

“Now darling, is that any way to speak to me?” Agatha teased, her voice gradually dropping in volume. “It’s been so long.”

Glaring at her, you tried to pry your phone from her hands, but she put it in her back pocket. “And whose fault is that again?” Your voice was laced with venom, you subconsciously wanted to make her feel as badly as you had. “Should we take a stroll down memory lane and recall what caused this?”

Agatha’s gaze hardened at that jab, and you momentarily wondered if you pushed too hard. “I’m surprised you’re leading this case. I thought you wanted to,” she paused and used air quotes, “‘help the voiceless’, not strangle them.”

“How dare you,” You seethed, not caring that your voice was growing in volume. “I’m just doing my job, Agatha. Besides, isn’t strangling the helpless what you do best?”

Agatha tilted her head back, and let out another cackle. “Doing your job? You’re trying to imprison an innocent mother.”

“Your innocent mother kidnapped two minors and took them over state lines,” You fired back, vaguely aware that Agatha was taking small, slow steps towards you.

“She’s still their mother,” Agatha pointed out and you felt your face grow red from rage.

“Regardless of DNA, it was a closed adoption. She waived her parental rights,” You argued, unaware of anything but the infuriating woman standing in front of you. “Surely you’ve been practicing long enough to know how to read a contract.”

“And I thought I taught you to read between the lines of said contracts,” Agatha countered, and you knew she was testing your argument, it’s what she always did. “Things aren’t always black and white, dear.”

No they weren’t, you silently agreed. By this point your back was to the wall of the deserted corridor, Agatha still towering over you. Your faces were practically touching, and you could practically taste her lips. Both of you were panting from the exertion of bickering, and it wouldn’t take much to close the distance. She was so close, closer than she had been to you in so long. Having her back in your orbit, taking over all of your senses, made you forget the reasons you were so angry with her. Instead, it made you remember how many other times you had found yourself in this exact same position.

You could feel your ironclad restraint begin to slip away, and Agatha appeared to notice it as well. She let out a low chuckle as she turned her face to the side, her breath now hot against your ear, and allowing her to whisper, “Looks like it still doesn’t take much to get you riled up, does it?”

Shuddering, you struggled to get your breathing even, thinking of the many reasons why this was a horrible idea. Your history aside, you were on opposing sides of what would most likely be a very public case. It wasn’t just unprofessional to be doing this, it could potentially jeopardize your whole career. But it was hard to think about any of that when you locked eyes with the woman you had spent so much time trying to forget. Her right hand left your waist to push back the loose strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear.

Each movement was slow, and delicate, and as her fingers slowly trailed down your neck, she gently squeezed, before gradually applying more pressure, and you had to physically restrain yourself from moaning. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and had to close your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. Agatha’s lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open kisses on your flesh while her fingers began to move lower, cupping your left breast before slowly pinching your nipple. This time you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that left your lips, and Agatha quickly used her free hand to silence you, covering your mouth.

“You always had a problem being quiet,” Agatha murmured, lips still on your skin. “Let’s find somewhere more…secluded to continue this, hm?”

Feeling yourself nod, you opened your eyes and let out a pathetic whine as she let go of you. It didn’t take long to find an empty storage closet, and Agatha practically shoved you inside before slamming the door behind her.

Pressing you against the bare wall, her eyes scanned yours before asking, “Are you sure?”

Being with Agatha like this was the greatest euphoric high, and it always left you wanting more and more. It didn’t have to mean anything, and you certainly didn’t want it to. It was just two people working out their frustrations, right? You nodded again, grabbing her right hand and placing it back around your throat. “Are you going to choke me again or are you too much of a coward?”

She nearly growled at that, and squeezed, a little rougher this time. You pressed your face into her shoulder, trying to silence the noises you always made when she touched you. She had barely started but it was so good, and you didn’t hesitate when she used her free hand to try and remove your blazer. Taking a step back to take off your blouse and bra, you nearly tripped over some boxes, and her hands steadied you.

“Careful,” She lightly teased, eyes still dark from arousal. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”

Her hands skillfully unhooked your bra, carelessly tossing it to the side, before lowering her mouth to your breast, and lewdly sucked. As if she anticipated the noises you’d inevitably make, she roughly pressed two fingers in your open mouth for you to suck. Moaning around them, you eagerly sucked and sucked, thinking of where you wanted her fingers to go next. Agatha’s tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it enough to make it go erect before using her teeth to pull. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, your last functioning brain cells wondering how she could still have this strong of an effect on you.

She let out a low hum, clearly enjoying this as much as you were before moving to your other breast, only this time she bit down, and the rush of pain and pleasure flooded you. Unable to cry out as she fucked her fingers further down your throat before adding a third, causing you to gag around them. Releasing your breast, Agatha panted out, “Look at how pathetic you are, sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. What a good girl.”

Whimpering around her fingers, you clenched at the filth spewing from her lips. You hated this, how easily she could flip the switch and have you dripping and wanting her to fuck you through the floorboards. Agatha cooed, using her free hand to gently stroke your face, and roughly pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She was face level again, and you watched the gears turn in her head as she weighed out what to do with you. That same free hand cupped your jaw, and she was so close, your brain buzzing from the endorphins. It was so good, you hated how good it was.

Her normally perfectly red lips were stained and parted slightly as she looked at you with an indecipherable stare, and you were still breathless from her earlier ministrations. Before you could fully comprehend what you were doing, you grabbed her hair and smashed your lips together. You swore you heard her groan, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and you had no time to contemplate it as you felt her tongue teasing the entrance of your mouth. It has been so long, so very long, but you fell back into the familiar dance you could never forget.

Everything Agatha did she dominated, for she had such a strong presence that was impossible to ignore. Just kissing her was enough to get you off, as her tongue expertly swirled around yours, sending you further and further from the edge of reality. You were so far gone you barely noticed her hands moving lower, and lower, until they were pawing at your ass. Groping and grabbing, she was insatiable as she conquered your mouth. You broke apart for merely a second and without speaking, you helped get rid of your pants, slightly stunned you were still this in sync after all this time.

But again, you had no time to ponder that thought as Agatha quickly slammed you against the wall, and you couldn’t help but moan at the pain. The same fingers you eagerly sucked on were now teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle, slow circles. Agatha’s breath was hot in your ear, and you whined, trying to thrust your hips up for more friction. You needed more, you needed her more than ever before. Going without for so long was fine, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, what she felt like; but the second you remembered you couldn’t bear a second without it.

“Someone’s awfully worked up,” Agatha taunted, her voice softly whispering in your ear. “Did you want something?”

“Agatha…” You breathed out, your voice nearly cracking. “Please…”

Her fingers teased your clit, and the sensation made you cry out, causing Agatha to silence you with yet another kiss. “Behave,” she murmured against your lips, “Do you want me inside you? Do you want me to fill that sweet little cunt?”

Mewling, you again tried to tilt your hips up, desperate to feel her inside you, but her other hand kept you in place. “Agatha, please, I…I need it, please fuck me.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “I know your brain just melts when that pussy gets wet, but we both know that’s not what you want to call me, is it?” Blushing, you tried to avert your eyes but it was impossible. She nipped at your lips before continuing. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”

“Mommy,” The words slipped past your lips and you felt another rush of heat between your legs while Agatha moaned.

“Good girl,” Agatha praised you, and before you could prepare yourself she roughly entered you with two fingers, filling you completely.

Her fingers were so long and so good, hitting the spots you had trouble reaching. You couldn’t help but clench around them, and she groaned in your ear. Wasting no time, she set a fast and hard rhythm, skillfully fucking you better than anyone else since her had been able to.

“I almost forgot how good your cunt feels around my fingers,” Agatha hissed, nibbling on your ear, “Suck me in, slut.”

Your hips met her fingers, and you desperately chased your orgasm. “Harder, please mommy fuck me harder.”

Putting all of her weight on you, Agatha swiftly added a third finger and you nearly squealed at how full you felt. Her fingers were so deep, and you were so close, so very close to the edge.

“Such a good whore for mommy,” Agatha cooed, and her voice was strained, you could tell she was close too. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”

“Mommy please,” You cried out, unable to focus on anything but wanting to feel her fingers make you come harder than you could ever remember.

Agatha’s hips rested against your knee, and she began riding your leg, chasing her own high. “Come for mommy, baby. Soak my fingers.”

Twisting her fingers and hitting your G-spot again, and again causing you to quickly unravel. Feeling your orgasm coming, you clenched around her fingers, needing her to stay inside you. Your knees buckled and you swore you saw stars, unable to speak as you silently cried out. Agatha came right as you did, grunting in your ear and roughly thrusting against your leg as she came undone.

“Fuck,” She panted, keeping her fingers inside you as you continued to twitched around them. “Good girl, such a good girl for mommy.”

Breathing heavily, you gradually felt yourself come back to Earth. You were drenched with sweat, and you were sure you looked positively debauched. Agatha was staring at you with yet another inscrutable expression on her face, and you felt yourself relaxing around her fingers as she slowly pulled out. You grabbed her hand, and lewdly cleaned her fingers off, watching her eyes darken once more as you made a point to swirl your tongue around them until they were clean.

As your brain fog cleared, you were all too aware of the uncomfortable silence growing around you. With every high that came with being with Agatha, it was almost always followed by an indescribable low. There were so many things you wanted to ask her, so many things you needed to know. Brief flashes of arguments and slamming doors. Dozens of unanswered calls, and late nights spent wondering what you had done wrong to deserve her random outbursts of anger. But with every argument, every heated fight, it would always end the same way; with Agatha pressing you against some surface and having her way with you.

There had been so much more going on at that point than you were aware of, and as the pieces slowly came together, she was too far gone for you to be able to help. You’d begged and pleaded with her, but it never mattered. What was it your therapist had said to you? You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Letting go of her nearly killed you, and now you made the mistake of opening that door again, knowing how much more complicated it would be. You weren’t just her law student anymore, you were on opposing sides of a trial.

It appeared Agatha was having the same train of thought as you, for she wordlessly helped you find your clothes. In spite of her just being inside you, you made a point of turning around as you got dressed, as the air in the room seemed to drop and any of the warmth that had been there prior had disappeared. There was so much you wanted to say, yet simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as you could.

Agatha finally broke the silence as she fixed her hair, and she was back to her usual condescending self. “You know you’re wrong pursuing this case, right? It’s not too late to back out.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed your phone from her back pocket and saw your Uber driver understandably canceled your ride. That would certainly tank your rating. You quickly ordered another before replying with, “You know this meant absolutely nothing to me, right?”

Pushing past her to exit the room, she let out another cackle, the sound like grating nails on a chalkboard in your ears. You knew she wouldn’t follow you, and you were thankful for that. This was an indiscretion, a momentary lapse of judgment. You’ve been on edge with all the extra hours you’ve been working; you weren’t thinking clearly. The courthouse was still relatively empty, and you left the building, trying to get the thought of Agatha out of your mind. Why did she have to be so infuriating?

Your Uber eventually rolled up and as you got in you went to check your work email. It never failed to amaze you how quickly your inbox would fill up when you didn’t check it for more than five minutes. Scrolling through, you vaguely listened to the music your driver had in in the background, until a familiar song started playing. Frank Sinatra, a favorite artist of a certain attorney. The Way You Look Tonight had always been one of her favorites, and you could remember the last time you listened to it together.

Your mind absentmindedly drifted, the memories you’d tried to lock away slowly creeping back up to the surface. It seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget, she didn’t want you to. Settling into your seat, listening to Frank Sinatra, you thought back to the first time you met Agatha, or rather, how you met Professor Harkness.

[disillusioneddanny]

You Are in Love Jazz/Cass

Jasmine Fenton let out a sigh as she followed behind her boss as they made their way across the large ballroom. It was the annual Wayne Charity Gala for Criminal Justice Reform and as a public defender at Gotham County Courthouse, Jazz was unfortunately obligated to be there rubbing elbows with rich, pretentious assholes. It was for a wonderful cause, and all of the money went to local nonprofit organizations that helped give people the life-saving resources that would keep them from reoffending or resorting to working for the Goonion as Jazz had heard it called.

When she had first graduated from Harvard Law, she hadn’t known what exactly she wanted to do. What kind of law she wanted to practice, who she wanted to help. And then Danny had told her about how bad Gotham was. After he had started working with Constantine and the rest of the Justice League Dark on the more magical problems, he had started to tell Jazz about all of the horrors of Gotham from when the bats called him there for assistance.

It was then that Jazz finally realized what it was that she was wanting to do. She wanted to help reform the horrible justice system that was the Gotham City justice system and help with the major crime that was going on there. So she had put in an application to be a public defender in Gotham County to help the most disenfranchised people of Gotham and she found her way to New Jersey of all places.

Four years later and the public defender’s office had been completely redone under the watchful eye of Jasmine Fenton and she had managed to make it work like a well oiled machine. She had helped partner with a few nonprofits who helped them work on their basic needs while the PD’s office focused more on helping them keep from going to prison or worse–Arkham.

It wasn’t a perfect system but it was getting better. So here she was, prepared to schmooze with the best of them to get more funding for all of the different organizations that were helping them reduce Gotham recidivism. For the first time in her life, Jazz found herself thankful for the lessons that she had received from Vlad when it came to trying to get people to give her money. Not that she would ever admit that to her godfather.

She plastered her most pleasant smile on her face as she floated through the ballroom, trying to not be self conscious of the fact that she was in a long, green ball gown that had already caused a few people to make comments about the fact that combined with her red hair was reminiscent of Poison Ivy. It was a little embarrassing but her girlfriend had told her multiple times that she looked good in it and that had her feeling a bit better. If her girlfriend thought it looked good, then it had to be.

She would never lie to Jazz.

Jazz was slightly suspicious that her girlfriend didn’t even know how to lie.

Teal eyes roved through the city as she eyed the other gala guests, looking for her next target. She really needed to find someone to chat with or else she was going to start looking a bit too awkward.

Then, her eyes landed on the most beautiful woman in the room and Jazz felt her stomach flutter a bit in anticipation as she made her way to Jazz.

Jasmine Fenton was a ruthless, cutthroat defense attorney. She scared Harvey Dent. Yet her girlfriend seemed to make her weak at the knees every time she so much as looked Jazz’s way.

Cassandra Wayne was the only daughter of Brucie Wayne, the playboy billionaire and host of their lovely gala for the night. Jazz had met her for the first time just two years prior when she had been forced to attend her first gala. The woman had been following Brucie around like a shadow, a pleasant, if not forced smile plastered onto her face as she followed the man around the room, sneaking glasses of champagne from her overly intoxicated father’s hand whenever she thought he had been drinking too much, or glaring menacingly at women who tried to approach the older man in attempts to get him to bring them home.

Then her eyes had landed on Jazz and she had given her the most genuine, beautiful smile that the redhead had ever seen. Jazz had found herself compelled to go over and talk to both Brucie and his daughter and it was probably the best decision she had ever made in her life. Bruce had managed to convince Cass to drift off with Jazz while he got into a long conversation with one of the DA’s who was also at attendance at that gala.

Which was fine with Jazz. The two ladies had found themselves chatting the rest of the night, trading stories, people watching, commiserating over the fact that they were forced to even be at a gala in the first place. And then as the night had come to an end, Cassandra had slipped Jazz a napkin with a phone number and a smiley face before she gave Jazz another one of those breathtaking smiles that had her swooning where she stood.

And really, the rest was history. The women had found themselves talking more and more, seeking one another out whenever they had the chance. Jazz had gone to see Cass’s ballet shows and Cass started to make weekly trips to the courthouse to make sure that the red head was eating properly and taking care of herself.

Somehow they had found themselves here. In a happy, comfortable relationship, living together in a nice brownstone in Upper Gotham and attending fancy galas together. Cass still followed her father like a shadow and Jazz still had to unfortunately kiss ass to a bunch of rich billionaires but sometime during the night they would find one another and get just a little too wrapped up in one another to even notice anyone else.

“Fancy seeing you here, beautiful,” a soft, polite voice said, as strong, calloused hands twined with Jazz’s dainty soft ones. Jazz looked down at her gorgeous, amazing, beautiful girlfriend and felt her cheeks go red like it was that first night all over again.

“I know, it’s almost like your father is hosting the charity ball,” Jazz said with a soft snort. Cass gave her that soft, secretive smile that always seemed to draw the older woman in.

Her kohl lined eyes rolled once as she glanced over at where Bruce was laughing loudly, throwing his arm over Oliver Queen’s shoulder as he laughed raucously, causing others to look over at him in thinly veiled disdain.

“Yes, he does enjoy coming to these,” Cass said, her nose crinkled ever so slightly. Jazz just gave her girlfriend a small smile.

“He seems to be really hamming it up tonight,” Jazz said with a laugh as her girlfriend just let out a tired sigh and shook her head. That was one of the fun parts of getting to know Cass, Jazz started to learn a bit more about all of the family and their treasure trove of secrets. She learned that Bruce Wayne wasn’t nearly as ditzy and arrogant as he let people think and was much more level headed and open. She had gotten to know each of Cass’s siblings as well and learn a bit more of each of them.

And then she had gotten to learn the real secret about the Waynes after dating her girlfriend for a year. She had learned about their nightly activities and had been more than excited to learn as much as she could about them. Not only that but then she got to listen to them tell her fun stories about her baby brother. Apparently he worked rather closely with Cass’s younger brother, Tim and the two caused more chaos than Danny had ever let her know about.

It was fun, getting to know all of the secrets behind her girlfriend, to learn every facet of who she was and how she came to be. How there were days when words were just too much for the shorter women, when days were so hard and difficult that she couldn’t seem to get out of bed. Then there were the days when her laugh filled their apartment along with the pitter patter of her feet as she danced along the kitchen to music only she could hear.

And Jazz found herself able to talk to someone who understood what it was like to grow up with just plain insanity. She felt more comfortable telling Cass about her childhood, opening up about the fact that the reason she was interested in justice reform was because her own parents had been thrown in prison when she had been just twenty years old after what they had done to Danny. Not to mention the years of neglect that they had endured under her parents' care.

Cass never looked at her like she was insane when she mentioned times where she had to beat down turkeys with a baseball bat. They found solace in one another, a comfort that Jazz had never felt before in her life. She found acceptance in Cassandra Wayne and she was addicted to it. In love with the feeling of being in love.

Cass treated Jazz like she was fine china, a delicate thing that needed to be treasured and loved. And Jazz made sure that Cass felt the same way, that Cass knew that she was loved and valued. That the shorted, hardened woman knew that she was more than just a weapon for other’s to use. That she could be more than just Black Bat.

That she could be whatever she wanted to be. That she was Jazz’s tiny dancer that she adored endlessly.

“Would you like to dance?” Cass asked, the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly with her smile.

“You just like showing off,” Jazz said with a roll of her eyes before taking Cass’s hand, watching the way her yellow ball gown seemed to swish around her as she led the taller woman to the dance floor.

“I like showing you off, yes,” Cass said simply before she rested her hand on Jazz’s waist, the other holding Jazz’s hand carefully. “How is it?”

“It’s fine,” Jazz said with a huff as she looked around at the other party goers. “We’re raising a lot of money already and we haven’t even gotten to the silent auction yet. I just hate having to play nice with all of these people.”

“Better than me,” Cass said simply as she allowed Jazz to twirl her around a bit. Jazz gave her a small smile and shook her head in amusement.

“You just have to smile and you have everyone here vying for your attention. You’re the favorite out of Brucie’s kids, you know,” Jazz told her with a small grin.

“Whatever. Tim’s the favorite,” Cass pointed out. Jazz just shook her head and dipped Cass down before pulling her back and giving the woman a soft kiss.

“Whatever you say,” she murmured, lips a hair’s breadth from Cass’s. “If it’s any consolation, you’re my favorite.”

Cass let out a hum, her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she relished in the attention from the red head. “Everyone is watching.”

“Let them,” Jazz said, running her nose along Cass’s jawline for a moment before they went back to spinning and swaying and sashaying through the dance floor. “Isn’t that what you always tell me? Let them watch?”

Cass hummed. “Makes you more interesting,” she murmured. “Sometimes you’re scary, dancing makes you more approachable. More open.”

Jazz scoffed. “I’m approachable.”

“Intimidating,” Cass told her, pinching her side lightly. “Powerful women scare people. You’re powerful. Scarry. Unapproachable.”

“It’s not my fault that people are cowards and are intimidated by me,” Jazz grumbled. Cass just smiled and shook her head.

“No, but dancing makes you seem more approachable. More,” Cass paused and thought for a moment. “More human,” she finally said.

“I’m human,” Jazz argued.

“No, liminal. Big difference,” she said with a laugh. “Sometimes you stand too still, your eyes glow too much. Too strong, a little too other,” she said, smiling up at Jazz.

Jazz rolled her eyes and just gave her girlfriend another kiss. “Well, I suppose we can prove to everyone that I’m a non intimidating, kind, fully human person.”

Cass let out an excited giggle and allowed Jazz to spin her across the ballroom. The attorney just grinned as they took over the dancefloor, her love for her girlfriend bloomed in her chest.

[mariacallous]

In July 2020, a 72-year-old attorney posing as a delivery person rang the doorbell at US district judge Esther Salas’ house in North Brunswick, New Jersey. When the door opened, the attorney fired a gun, wounding the judge’s husband—and killing her only child, 20-year-old Daniel Mark Anderl.

The murderer, Salas said, had found her address online and was outraged because she hadn’t handled a case of his client fast enough. In her despair, Salas publicly pleaded, “We can make it hard for those who target us to track us down … We can't just sit back and wait for another tragedy to strike.”

She wanted judges to be able to keep their home addresses private. New Jersey lawmakers delivered. Months after the murder, they unanimously enacted Daniel’s Law. Today, current and former judges, cops, prosecutors, and others working in criminal justice can have their household’s address and phone numbers withheld from government records in the state. They also can demand that the data be removed from any website, including popular tools for researching people such as Whitepages, Spokeo, Equifax, and RocketReach.

Companies that don’t comply within 10 business days have to pay a penalty of at least $1,000. This makes New Jersey’s law the only privacy statute in the US that guarantees people a court payout when requests to keep information private are ignored.

That provision is being put to a consequential test.

In a pile of lawsuits in New Jersey—drummed up by a 41-year-old serial entrepreneur named Matt Adkisson and five law firms, including two of the nation’s most prominent—about 20,000 workers, retirees, and their relatives are suing 150 companies and counting for allegedly failing to honor requests to have their personal information removed under Daniel’s Law.

These companies, which Adkisson estimates generate $150 billion annually in sales, may now be on the hook for $8 billion in penalties. But what’s more important to him is the hope that this narrow New Jersey law could act as a wedge to force data brokers to stop publishing sensitive data about people of all professions nationwide. He’s hoping that this multibillion-dollar pursuit, with its army of union cop households, may be a catalyst for better personal privacy for us all.

If he doesn’t win, the oft-derided data broker industry would have proved that it has a right under the First Amendment to publish people’s contact information. Websites could avoid further regulation, and no one in the US may ever be guaranteed by law to become less googleable. “I never thought we would have such a hard time, that it would turn into such a battle,” Adkisson says. “Just home address, phone number, remove it. One state. Twenty-thousand people.”

This is the first definitive account of how the fate of one of the country’s most intriguing privacy laws came to rest on the shoulders of Adkisson’s latest tech startup, Atlas.

Matt Adkisson is almost your prototypical lifelong entrepreneur. He quit high school at 16 to code video games and small-business websites. His parents insisted, though, that he audit classes across the street from their home, at the US Naval War College in Rhode Island. So he began learning about national security. One lesson he picked up: When judges live in fear and can’t rule impartially, democracies can wither.

But saving democracy wasn't his passion. Making money was. He headed off to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology with designs on becoming a consultant or investment banker, but dropped out before senior year. Like so many other young people in the midst of the Web 2.0 frenzy, he had an entrepreneurial itch. Without telling them, Adkisson cashed out his parents’ tuition payment, and in 2006, he and a friend slept under office desks for a month before founding a company called FreeCause with Adkisson’s brother to develop marketing tools for Facebook games. Adkisson later bought shares of the nascent social media startup. Both bets paid millions. In 2009, FreeCause sold for about $30 million.

Adkisson upgraded to nights on a friend’s couch in San Francisco, where he used his wealth to invest in or start dozens of other software companies. As they sold, he became a comfortable multimillionaire. It was his last big deal, in 2018, that set him down the path of privacy crusader. He had sold Safer, which developed a Google Chrome competitor called Secure Browser, to antivirus maker Avast for about $10 million.

Adkisson and a cofounder recall that during a meeting over lakeside beers near offices in Friedrichshafen, Germany, after the deal closed, an Avast executive demanded they feed search activity from Secure Browser’s millions of users to Jumpshot, a sibling unit that was selling antivirus users’ browsing history to companies wanting to study consumer trends.

Adkisson stood to make millions of dollars in bonuses from the proposed integration. He refused. It was too intrusive to share that intimate data, he says, and a violation of trust. (Avast declined to comment on the episode. It shuttered Jumpshot, and this year agreed to pay $16.5 million to settle US government charges over the service’s allegedly deceptive data usage.)

Adkisson left Avast in December 2020 thinking he would keep adding to his portfolio of over 300 startup investments or pursue something in AI, like automating brushstrokes to create on-demand oil paintings. But he couldn’t shake the Friedrichshafen incident. For his web browsing, he started to use VPNs and the privacy-focused search engine DuckDuckGo. He tried to get websites to remove his new East Coast home address. Those efforts mostly failed; companies had no obligation to comply.

These websites that sell addresses or phone numbers typically get that data by buying voter or property records from governments, and user account details from companies willing to deal. The easy access to data enabled by the aggregators can be vital to services like identity verification or targeted advertising. But the customers also can include people who are looking for an old friend. Or investigating a crime. Or someone with a grudge against, say, a judge.

As Adkisson dug into the data broker industry in 2021, he read about how a law that went into effect the year before had given Californians a right to demand companies delete their personal information. So Adkisson and two cofounders launched a service they called RoundRobin, to help Californians do just that for a fee. Services like DeleteMe and Optery were already selling deletion assistance, but Adkisson felt they were more marketing spin than serious tech.

RoundRobin joined the well-known startup accelerator Y Combinator in April 2021 and began developing software to simplify making requests. But the startup had no way to enforce the takedowns it wanted to charge customers for; only California’s attorney general could sue for violations of the nascent law. Data websites ignored RoundRobin.

Given Adkisson’s pedigree, investors held out hope. California privacy activist Tom Kemp, Lightspeed Venture Partners, and others invested about $2 million in RoundRobin that August. But the struggle continued. The cofounders renamed the company to the more serious-sounding Atlas Data Privacy in January 2022. It didn’t help. But then, a break. Just as Adkisson was considering giving up and his initial cofounders were pulling out, a relative of his in California who had worked in law enforcement mentioned Daniel Anderl’s murder—and the law it inspired in New Jersey. “Fate delivered the Garden State,” Adkisson says.

He soon reached out to law enforcement experts, including a former Boston police commissioner and a retired Navy rear admiral. The two told Adkisson stories about cops who were attacked in their homes. They urged him to press on.

The first organization to return Adkisson’s cold calls was the New Jersey State Policemen's Benevolent Association, the state’s largest police union. They said a few of the organization’s 31,000 members needed help containing some inadvertently leaked contact information. Adkisson and a cofounder, J.P. Carlucci, took a stab. Despite limited success, union members were excited by Adkisson’s moxy. In July 2022, a union leadership group voted unanimously to offer Atlas’ service as a benefit to members with the intention of using Daniel’s Law to demand websites remove phone numbers and addresses. The cost, spread across all members paying for the union’s legal protection plan, was hundreds of thousands of dollars annually, Adkisson says.

In August 2022, with the deal signed and thousands of members soon enrolled, Atlas established headquarters in Jersey City, New Jersey, and set out to prove it could deliver better results than back in California. For that, it needed litigation power.

The first six law firms Adkisson called refused to take up the New Jersey cases. They worried about their financial return and the likelihood of success. Judges had discretion over the $1,000 payouts, plaintiffs had to prove physical harm, and to even bring a case, attorneys had to mobilize each plaintiff individually. It wasn’t a good equation.

Over seafood in San Francisco on the waterfront, one attorney sketched out for Adkisson revisions to Daniel’s Law that could make Atlas’ job easier. Adkisson took those suggestions back to the police union, which in turn used its weight in Trenton to push lawmakers to enact the changes. By December 2022, legislators introduced amendments requiring judges to impose financial penalties on websites that failed to honor removal requests, allowing those covered by the law to sue more liberally, and enabling attorneys to more easily bring big cases. In July 2023, just after the third anniversary of Daniel’s murder, the governor signed these amendments into law.

Atlas stayed focused on recruiting more users, from the police union and beyond. Newly hired staff—the company grew to a total of eight people—learned the lingo, like don’t refer to state troopers as “officers.” Adkisson let clients call him directly 24/7 for technical support. He drove his Jeep Cherokee more than 50,000 miles to every corner of the state. The Atlas team spent 18 hours on back-to-back days at a correctional facility to catch every shift, plying union guards with Crumbl Cookies and Shake Shack. “Word started to spread, like, ‘Who the hell are these people?’” Adkisson says. “That brought us credibility.”

Days before last Christmas, Atlas finished the software for users to select the companies to which they wanted to send emailed data removal requests. The tired team gathered over Zoom watching a tally rise as the emails landed in data brokers’ inboxes. Altogether, Atlas would deliver 40 million emails to 1,000 websites on behalf of roughly 20,000 people over the next five months.

Helping users with only the easy targets—the ad-supported websites that tend to pop up when googling someone’s name—“would have been a band-aid on a wound that needed much deeper treatment,” Adkisson says. To provide what it viewed as comprehensive support and more than what competitors offer, Atlas also was facilitating takedown requests to mainstream services such as Zillow and Twilio. They tend to supply data through fee-supported advanced tools that don't pop up on a standard Google query.

Twilio denies that it provides data subject to Daniel’s Law. Zillow didn’t respond to WIRED’s requests for comment. Atlas, Adkisson says, spent about $1.3 million in labor and fees to verify websites it targeted were actually providing home addresses and phone numbers.

The startup got its first response on December 26. Red Violet, whose Forewarn data dossiers help real estate agents vet potential clients, was demanding Atlas cease and desist, erroneously claiming that Daniel’s Law applied only to government agencies and not private companies. Adkisson had expected the legal teeth of the updated Daniel's Law to inspire widespread compliance. This was a rough start. “Demoralizing,” Adkisson says.

Other companies responded with demands to see ID cards of Atlas clients, apparently suspicious that the startup was making up its customers or people demanding takedowns were pretending to work in law enforcement just to be covered by the law. Adkisson told one company they could call requestors to authenticate demands. After all, it had their numbers. Another company suggested that if Atlas clients wanted anonymity, they should have used an LLC to buy property instead of their own names.

Akisson says the most retaliatory response came from LexisNexis, which lets police and businesses search for people's contact information and life history, typically for investigations and background checks. He alleges that instead of removing Atlas clients’ phone numbers and addresses from view, LexisNexis needlessly froze their entire files in its system, impeding credit checks some were undergoing for loan applications.

LexisNexis spokesperson Paul Eckloff disputes that freezing was an overreach. The company deemed that step as necessary to honor the requests submitted by Atlas users to not disclose their data. “This company couldn’t be more dedicated to supporting law enforcement,” he says. “We would support common sense protections.” But he described Daniel’s Law as overly punitive.

To Adkisson, the people being punished were the cops, judges, and other government workers he had met on his Jeep excursions through New Jersey. Among them were police officers Justyna Maloney, 38, and her husband, Sergeant Scott Maloney, 46, who work in Rahway, a tiny city along the border with New York City.

In April 2023, Justyna was filmed by a YouTuber who runs the channel Long Island Audit, which has over 842,000 subscribers. He often films himself trying to goad police into misbehavior, and Justyna asking him to leave a government office became his newest viral hit. Followers inundated the Rahway Police’s Facebook page with about 6,500 comments, including death threats, slurs, and links to the Maloneys’ address and phone numbers on SearchPeopleFREE.com and Whitepages. Scott says Facebook wouldn’t remove the comments linking to the contact information. Neither would the police department, citing First Amendment concerns. Tensions boiled.

In August 2023, Scott received texts demanding $3,000 or “your family will be responsible for paying me in blood.” The texts listed his sister’s name and address. An hour later, the same number sent a video of two ski-masked individuals bearing guns inside an unknown location. Atlas wasn’t up and running yet, so Scott, determined to delete all his family’s contact data online, sat on his lagoonside deck every evening for weeks, crushing Michelob Ultras to stay calm as he navigated takedown forms. He put in so many requests to Whitepages for his family that it barred him from making more.

The Facebook comments linking to the Maloneys’ address only came down after they sued their bosses last November for violating Daniel’s Law. This past January, a state judge ruled that the risk to the couple “far outweighs” potential harm to the police department from censorship complaints.

As Adkisson looked to sue noncompliant data websites, he had no trouble signing up the Maloneys as plaintiffs. And because Daniel’s law now made it possible, thanks to Atlas and the police union’s lobbying, to collect guaranteed penalties from data websites, Adkisson had been able to secure five law firms, including prominent national firms Boies Schiller Flexner and Morgan & Morgan, and some attorneys who personally knew the Daniel of “Daniel’s Law.”

On February 6, Atlas and the legal team began filing lawsuits, naming the Maloneys and about 20,000 other clients as plaintiffs. In state court, 110 cases remain unresolved across five different counties. Thirty-six lawsuits are being contested in federal court before Judge Harvey Bartle III, who is based in Philadelphia but commutes across the Delaware River to Camden, New Jersey, because judges based in the state were conflicted out by virtue of being eligible for Daniel’s Law protections.

Eight defendants quickly filed motions to dismiss in state court, but they were all denied. At the federal level, most companies are arguing together that the New Jersey statute violates their First Amendment right to freedom of speech. It’s an argument that’s allowed personal information to stay online before. Federal courts have given leeway to publication of lawmakers’ contact information and actors’ birthdates, leaving doubts over whether cops and judges and their homes and phones would fare any better.

Defendants have told Bartle to consider a US Supreme Court decision in 2011 that found a law in Vermont that protected doctors’ privacy unreasonably singled out data use by drugmakers. Atlas’ foes view Daniel’s Law as similarly arbitrary because it holds New Jersey agencies to different standards than their companies when it comes to keeping data private. They also say it’s unfair that they must remove numbers that cops still list on personal websites.

Some companies fighting the lawsuits note that the $1,000 penalty that the law guarantees may lead to companies acting out of fear and removing more data than needed, or honoring requests that are actually invalid. What’s more, these defendants say that Atlas’ true motivation is money. They claim that instead of trying to quickly protect those already signed up when last year’s amendments passed, Atlas sought out more users to run up the potential monetary judgment and duped them into paying for protections they could exercise for free themselves.

Adkisson disputes the accusations. He says Atlas needed time to finish its platform and ensure it was able to properly log usage, so that judges wouldn’t dismiss cases based on technicalities like takedown requests ending up in spam folders. The startup also won’t be profiting from the lawsuit, he says. Two-thirds of any proceeds will go to the users represented; anything he and Atlas are left with after covering the costs of bringing the lawsuits would be donated to law enforcement charities and privacy advocacy groups through Atlas’ nonprofit arm, Coalition for Data Privacy and Security. Privacy is “a very real, tactical, and visceral need,” Adkisson says.

He was reminded of that this past May when he took WIRED in his Jeep to meet with Peter Andreyev, a cop in Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey, and president of the statewide Policemen's Benevolent Association. Around dusk that day, Adkisson handed Andreyev a search result for his name on DataTree.com, a website that sells property records. Andreyev slipped on his black-rimmed glasses and brought his linebacker figure toward a conference table to review the page. It took him just two seconds to tense up. “Oh shit,” he said.

He stared at a street-view image of his home, and a birds-eye shot with his address overlaid. The square footage was in there too, for good measure. His head visibly rattling and legs restless, Andreyev pounded the table. “I—I’m pretty infuriated by this.”

Like many law enforcement officers, the 51-year-old rarely goes a day without nightmares about some known thug or detractor attacking him and his family. The DataTree printout reinforced for him that it would take just a few clicks for anyone to target him in the vulnerability of his own home. WIRED pulled up Andreyev’s report from DataTree with just a free trial.

As Andreyev continued to study the page, Adkisson pointed out something he viewed as particularly galling. In February, Atlas had sued First American, the $6 billion title insurance company that operates DataTree, for allegedly not complying with removal requests. Andreyev had been listed as one of the lead plaintiffs, alongside the Maloneys. In the following weeks, DataTree removed Andreyev’s address from one section of the search result for his name but left it up on the map that Andreyev was now staring at. “That’s no way compliant,” Andreyev said. “Fuck, it pisses me off.” First American declined to comment. As the legal battle plays out, Andreyev says he's left to continue looking over his shoulder—even at home.

The antidote of making officers more difficult to find could require greater creativity from those investigating or advertising to them, says Neil Richards, a Washington University School of Law professor and author of Why Privacy Matters. But it doesn’t make the work impossible. Richards, who isn’t involved in the Atlas litigation, says courts need to recognize that “privacy protections are a fundamental First Amendment concern, and one that's even more important than a company's ability to make money trafficking in phone numbers and home addresses.”

In the coming months, Judge Bartle will decide whether cops and judges living in fear imperils public safety. If so, he’ll have to settle whether Daniel’s Law is the least onerous solution. A loss for Atlas and its clients would effectively be treating “anything done with information” as free expression, Richards says, and stymie further attempts to regulate the digital world.

On the other hand, a victory for Atlas could be a boon for its business. Adkisson says tens of thousands of people across the country have joined the company’s waiting list: prison nurses, paramedics, teachers. All of them, he adds, anticipating someday gaining the same removal power as New Jerseyans. Since the beginning of 2023, at least seven states have passed similar measures to Daniel’s Law. None of those, however, include the monetary penalty that gets lawyers interested in pursuing enforcement. “Step one is, win here,” Adkisson says, referring to New Jersey.

After the dispiriting start, he thinks momentum is swinging in Atlas’ favor. In August, the startup raised its first funding since 2021, about $8.5 million in litigation financing and equity investment.

Adkisson says compliance with more recent removal requests is increasing, and a few defendants are settling. In September, a state judge approved the first deal, in which NJParcels.com owner Areaplot admitted to 28,230 violations of Daniel’s Law and accepted five years of oversight. PogoData, a revenue-less website that had made property owners’ names searchable, settled this month. Bill Wetzel, its 79-year-old hobbyist owner, would owe $20 million for breaching the deal but he says he supports removing names of officers in harm’s way.

Then again, against the better-funded defendants with more at stake and unpredictable courts, Adkisson recognizes that a broader victory for privacy and Atlas is uncertain. In telling his story, he wants to ensure there’s opportunity for people to learn from any missteps if Atlas fails. But his advisers, including former boss Steve Avalone, don’t expect Adkisson to give up easy. They describe him as the ultimate gadfly—unorthodox, tenacious, and wealthy. “There’s few people with that horsepower and that charisma,” Avalone says.

For his part, Adkisson says he’s driven by a sad truth. The tragedies, fueled in part by contact information online, that judge Salas wanted to bring an end to after her son’s murder haven’t stopped. Last October, a man allegedly shot to death Andrew Wilkinson, a Maryland state judge, who hours earlier had denied the man custody of his child. The National Center for State Courts said it was the third targeted shooting of a state judge in as many years.

Maryland investigators say they believe the now-deceased assailant found Wilkinson’s address online, though they never recovered definitive evidence beyond a search query for the judge’s name. When he heard about the murder the day it happened, Adkisson immediately googled Wilkinson. His address was right there.

[cryoverkiltmilk]

The prosecution of the New Jersey Onceler is back underway. Viva la Tree Law!

KINNELON — A borough man who allegedly hired landscapers to cut down 32 of his neighbor's trees appeared in municipal court on Tuesday, in a dispute that has drawn "national and international" attention to the normally quiet Morris County town, according to the judge in the case.

With a discovery deadline of Aug. 31, Judge Andrew Wubbenhorst set a trial date of Sept. 22 for Denise Drive resident Grant Haber, who faces a trove of local ordinance violations for each of the trees cut down on the property of his next-door neighbor, Samih Shinway.

The case went mostly unnoticed by the public until a third court date last month, after a Twitter feed by a friend of the borough forester went viral. "Someone thought it would be a good idea to take the Zoom notice that was only intended for people who had involvement in the case and put it on social media," Wubbenhorst said Tuesday.

The judge said he was told that posting resulted in "hundreds of thousands of views, if not millions of views, and people trying to get into our [Zoom] court session, totally disrupting the court session," the judge said. "That's why we're here today in person."

Some of the people who were able to log into the conference, Wubbenhorst said, "were trying to disrupt and were actually very abusive and insulting to the court. Seeing that this case apparently has gotten not only national but international notoriety, I don't really think it's fair to the defendants and their counsel to have such interruptions and confusion in a virtual setting."

Prosecutor Kim Kassar said he needed more time to consult with expert witnesses before discovery could begin. Wubbenhorst, noting the volume of charges and public attention involved, cleared Tuesday's court calendar to focus on this case.

Only one of the charges is considered a criminal offense, in this case an alleged violation of a state statute "covering unlicensed entry of structures; defiant trespassing and peering into dwelling places."

Facing charges along with Haber are two tree service operators he hired: Ronald Fallas, doing business at Choco Tree Service in Newark, and Greg Brancaleone of Father & Son Tree Service in Kinnelon. All of the defendants were represented by attorneys who declined comment.

Cleared for a view?

Shinway, Haber's neighbor, said he took the woods on his property seriously: Before the tree-cutting incident, he'd retained the services of an arborist to help keep the forest healthy, he said. But on Feb. 27, Shinway said, he came home to the sound of chainsaws coming from the back of his land. He had to use an ATV to reach the site where the trees had been cut. Oaks and birch trees were among the targets of the landscapers, who stopped after Shinway confronted them and called the police, he said.

Shinway said the workers told him they had been hired to remove the trees to improve the area's view of the surrounding valleys and New York City.

When Shinway asked why they ignored the "No Trespassing" signs posted around his property, they responded that they had been told that the property's owner had given permission for the work.

Potential fines

Haber and the landscapers each face up to a $1,000 fine per tree. The additional cost to clear, replant and fully rehabilitate the land was reportedly estimated by a local tree expert to possibly be more than $1 million.

Both the Haber and Shinway properties include luxury homes on seven-acre, mostly wooded lots where trees limit backyard views of the New York City skyline and a nearby reservoir. Shinway speculated the motivation for the tree-culling may have been for "a better view."

Shinway said both properties are among the many million-dollar homes in the wealthy, heavily forested suburb of New York City, 33 miles from midtown Manhattan. He said the only contact he had with Haber prior to the tree-cutting was to discuss a fence on the Haber property he believed crossed onto his land.

"I just let it go," Shinway said, adding he did post "no trespassing" signs on his property after that.

One of the trees cut down had such a sign still affixed to it, he added. The cut trees also included oaks, hickory, birch and cherry, Shimway said.

A typed response

Shinway said after the incident, Haber sent him a typed letter that in his view fell short of an apology.

"It was impersonal," he said of the letter. "Stating they love nature, it wasn't done maliciously and the tree company that did it, the person was ill, and everybody's got families, something along those lines."

Shinway said he has not yet retained an attorney or considered filing a civil suit.

In-person, the court session only drew a small group of media and about a dozen residents, many of who were angry about what they said was the township's poor stewardship of their forested areas, claiming authorities had given tree-removal approvals to many property owners in violation of local ordinances.

"Look at all the trees being cut down for views of the Kakeout Reservoir, New York City, bigger toxic lawns, pools and whatever pleases us," said 54-year Kinnelon resident Mary Derstine before the hearing began. "I hope and pray we wake up in time so our children and future generations can know what a tree looks like, can breathe and have food to eat. Politicians, corporations and greed must not destroy our living planet."

[newjerseyduilawoffice]

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[tangerinetrees]

Hello! So sorry to bug you out of nowhere, but you added something really cool from the legal realm to a chain of custody post so I was wondering on your take on whether Harvey Dent could practice law in Gotham (even if he did get disbarred for criminal activities)?

hello! tysm for asking about harvey bc he’s very dear to me!! i do want to specify first that my legal knowledge is mostly limited to like a) criticizing the justice system in the us, and b) pretty vague in terms of the nuances to new jersey’s state system bc i don’t live there, so this is 80% headcanon and 20% personal research. also warning this got kinda long

like for one, regarding the state legal system, apparently jersey has “county prosecutors” (equivalent to new york’s district attorneys) who are appointed by the state attorney general instead of being elected. given it’s pretty much a staple for gotham to have a DA, we’re already throwing real world examples out the window

harvey getting disbarred is a really interesting point to me (<- intense focus on minutiae in world building), given that it’s already established in universe that gotham’s system is corrupt - which should include everyone from police to judges to prosecutors to prisons. which is kinda funny since most comics and adaptations don’t take the level of corruption inherent to police+prosecutors to nearly the depths they reach irl in the usa? and irl they rarely get disciplined or disbarred? i digress. because of the highly public nature of harvey / two face going on a revenge spree against gotham’s mob families, starting his own crime syndicate, and his arrest being published in the media, i think it’s safe to say he was disbarred.

while i’m not sure of how disbarment works as a process, i can imagine the NJ supreme court conducting an investigation into harvey’s crimes and run as DA to decide whether or not to disbar him - and all of the cops/ADAs/politicians/judges he pissed off while trying to reform gotham giving support for his disbarment. not to mention the actual criminal case that would be filed against harvey. disbarment in jersey is permanent (although apparently this might be changing recently?), so realistically, harvey can’t ever be reinstated. man crashed and killed his career so he could kill the maronis. which kind of explains harvey’s hopelessness about rebuilding his life

i mean mostly we see harvey offering legal advice, or sometimes just ‘holding court’ as a way for harv and twos to argue with each other. theoretically harvey could choose to represent himself in court. but even if they finish serving a sentence and try to build a non-crimey life, harvey’s disbarment would be his biggest obstacle to practicing law again. maybe given how convoluted gotham’s legal system is, ex con harvey would be allowed to practice in some but not all courts? like civil court and family court is fine, but as for criminal court... harvey can help with your divorce but he can’t defend you for committing robbery lmao

but honestly my preferred take is that two face and harvey have separate licenses. there was a scene in i think btas where they had a credit card with two face listed as the name, and in one of his runs with red hood he mentions their drivers license being out of date. so really i just think it would be hilarious if two face was not disbarred, or if he passed the bar as part of a rehab program (and i can definitely see a wayne sponsored convict higher education program existing in gotham)

(and relatedly, harvey and the other rogues being sentenced to arkham over and over again has fascinating implications? since traditionally it’s not a correctional facility the way a prison like blackgate is, not really. which would insinuate that despite being hella corrupt, gotham’s DAs don’t typically push for death penalty (illegal in NJ since 2007 btw) or even for life in prison, depending on the case. who knows? maybe harvey’s reform policies have kickstarted a lineage of more progressive DAs. well. unless arkham is being used as a jail+hospital for ppl with health needs, and that sentenced inmates are awaiting trial, bc then that would be more fucked up..)

anyway! sorry for this very long response lol, harvey and two face are my boys, and i could go on all night about them. tldr, whether or not harvey can practice law depends on 1) how closely you want adhere to jersey law, 2) whether he’s currently an escapee/avoiding arkham or an ex-con, and 3) how funny it is at the moment. there was a post floating around about how a reformed dent storyline should be harvey as a pro bono civil defense lawyer and two face as a personal injury lawyer which to me is the ideal state of things lol

[eretzyisrael]

by Jessica Costescu

Eloise Maybank is accustomed to luxury. A London native, Maybank attended high school at a private French academy in London, the renowned Lycée Français Charles de Gaulle de Londres, and then at Milton Academy, an elite Massachusetts boarding school where tuition runs $76,000 a year. Then she enrolled at Columbia.

Maybank was among approximately 100 people arrested at Columbia University in late April for storming and occupying a campus building. Of those arrested, 45 were charged with third-degree criminal trespassing, public records show. At a hearing last month, the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office dismissed cases against 31 of those people. Prosecutors told the 14 others that charges against them would be dropped if they avoided arrest for the next six months, but the defendants rejected that offer and will return to court in late July.

A Washington Free Beacon review of those charged shows they included several Columbia University, Barnard College, and New York University students and recent graduates, a City University of New York professor, and a wealthy outside activist also facing charges for setting an Israel supporter’s flag aflame during the April protest.

Also arrested were Julia Jackson, an alumna of New York University and New Hampshire’s Phillips Exeter Academy—tuition $70,000 a year—as well as Barnard College graduate Madelyn McGuigan, the daughter of finance executive Chris McGuigan, the owner of a picturesque home valued at $2.2 million in the beachside town of Rumson, New Jersey, the Free Beacon found. Both McGuigan and Jackson will return to court in late July after rejecting the deal offered by prosecutors.

[brunoandferraro]

At the law offices of Bruno and Ferraro our new jersey criminal defense lawyers are focused on protecting the rights of our clients with strategic, experienced and results-driven advocacy. From your initial consultation through the final resolution of your case, we focus on protecting your rights and preventing the consequences of a criminal conviction.

[jabalaw]

Charged With Driving While Intoxicated |Top DWI Lawyers Available in Monmouth County

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[misfitwashere]

[Fox News] Kamala Harris is once-in-a-generation candidate and this is a once-in-a-generation moment for America

From the sidewalks of Oakland to the halls of the White House, Kamala Harris’ story is the stuff dreams are made of…the American Dream. Because where else could the daughter of immigrants rise to the highest office in the land, shattering glass ceilings all along the way? Only in America.

Of course, she had plenty of examples to show her what was possible. Coming to America from India at only 19-years-old, her mother became a celebrated biologist. Her father had come from Jamaica, studied at UC Berkeley and became a renowned economist and professor at Stanford. So, they raised her not only to see what is and what has been, but to imagine what is possible — not who we are, but who we can be.

It worked because she thrived on that possibility. It took her to Vanier College in Montreal, Howard University and the University of California College of Law, San Francisco. It drove her to organize for justice. It helped her prosecute murderers and rapists as the District Attorney’s chief of the Career Criminal Division and eventually become San Francisco’s district attorney herself, then attorney general, U.S. senator and vice president.

It gave her the moral clarity to fight the big banks who paid for their own misdeeds by foreclosing on working families. It gave her the strength to fight for students and veterans who were taken advantage of by a for-profit education company and it gave her the tools to win bringing rent relief and badly needed resources to low-income communities during the COVID-19 pandemic, to deliver student debt relief to countless American, to help create millions of new jobs and more.

Now, because it’s her time and her turn, she is zooming through and into history and nobody deserves it more. Yes, we recognize that politics is a contact sport and we know that the attacks will come. In fact, some are coming already.

But we also recognize that a lot of the folks wearing different jerseys than we are keep running the same old plays of racism, bigotry, misogyny, ignorance and hate. From birtherism 2.0 and dismissing the vice president as a DEI hire, to claiming she “became Black” and purposefully mispronouncing her name, it’s clear that the closer we get to history, the louder and sicker they become.

That’s OK. She can take it because the contrast is easy to see.

It’s not just about the prosecutor vs. the felon or even the undeniable truth vs. rapid fire lies. It’s about progress vs extremism. It’s about who we can be.

Think about the landmark legislation Vice President Harris helped marshal through Congress and into law. Think about all the executive orders to raise wages, fight climate change, protect reproductive freedom and more that she helped make reality. Now compare that to the four years of deprivation and degradation we saw under Donald J. Trump. 

Of course, elections are about the future forecast. So, compare former President Donald Trump’s all but official endorsement of the plans laid out in Project 2025 to President Harris signing a real bipartisan border security bill into law, protecting a woman’s right to control her own body and make her own health care decisions, extending the child tax credit that cut child poverty in half, building on the more than 15 million jobs she already helped create. 

Compare Trump’s plan to declare martial law to President Harris strengthening the middle class, growing small businesses, expanding health care, keeping medical debt off your credit report and making sure no one raises taxes on Americans who make less than $400,000 per year.

While Harris knows that affordable internet is a must not a plus for all Americans, the MAGA Republicans refuse to fund the Affordable Connectivity Program. And while they’re screaming about imagined crises, we’re talking about raising wages, closing the wealth gap, lowering the cost of childcare and making sure getting sick doesn’t mean going broke.

That’s just a hint of the differences.

Simply put, Vice President Harris is a once-in-a-generation candidate who has generated more power and energy for this country than Duke Power. It’s been less than a month since she announced her campaign for president and she’s already unifying the Democratic base, expanding our coalition, stretching the map and forcing the Republicans to short circuit.

In less than two weeks, Vice President Harris has recruited nearly 200,000 volunteers, sparked nationwide grassroots organization, secured the Democratic nomination and raised $310 million, which is twice as much as Trump raised through all of July. 

From campaign calls to rallies to local volunteers knocking on doors on a Saturday morning, folks are getting tuned in all across this nation like we’ve never seen before. It’s unprecedented. It’s historic.

Vice President Kamala Harris is a once-in-a-generation candidate and this is a once-in-a-generation moment for America. The choice is clear. Will we choose truth or lies? Will we choose hope or hate? Will we choose the future or be doomed to repeat the past?

Well, like the vice president says, we are not going back.

Antjuan Seawright is a Democratic political strategist, founder and CEO of Blueprint Strategy LLC and a senior visiting fellow at Third Way. Follow him on X, formerly known as Twitter @antjuansea.

[offender42085]

Post 1297

Jacob A Pommerehn, New Jersey inmate 612003G, born 1998, incarceration intake December 2017 at age 19, released June 2021

Reckless Manslaughter

In December 2017, a 19-year-old man was sentenced to five years in prison for the reckless manslaughter of his best friend, whom he shot in the head in a Jersey City parking lot the year before.

"There was drinking, there was smoking marijuana and they were doing other things," Hudson County Superior Court Judge Mark Nelson said at the sentencing of of Jacob Pommerehn, who fatally shot Anthony Rios, 17, on Van Horne Street on Sept. 12. 2016.

Nelson said the two friends were "playing with two guns" before Rios was struck in the head, adding "This insanity of people having guns and playing around with guns. I don't know what else to say - it's insanity."

Pommerehn, who has no prior criminal record, was very remorseful and sat crying silently at the defense table through most of the hearing. He was originally charged with aggravated manslaughter but pleaded guilty to the lesser charge.

Nelson said that after his arrest, Pommerehn posted bail and his father took him to a drug treatment facility. The judge recommended that he serve his sentence at a prison appropriate for his age and his substance abuse issues.

When Pommerehn made his first court appearance on the charges, his attorney said he is the son of a federal police officer and argued Rios' death was an "accident."

A spokesman for the United States Park Police said Pommerehen's father is John Pommerehn is a police officer with the marine patrols unit.

Jacob Pommerehn's criminal complaint said the teen had a Beretta .09 handgun and Walther P22 .22 handgun at the time of the shooting. The Park Police spokesman said those model weapons were not issued through the department.

"I don't think that any reasonable person would think that Mr. Pommerehn did this on purpose," Nelson said. "He has absolutely no involvement in the justice system as a juvenile or an adult - he didn't pay his light rail ticket once... I would be very surprised if Mr. Pommerehn was ever involved in the justice system again."

A third person with Rios and Pommerehn at the time of the shooting was not charged.

4l

[mariacallous]

Eric Adams wanted to see the world, to see it in style. But he wasn’t a rich man, just a former cop and rising politician in a largely ceremonial job, Brooklyn Borough President. Luckily for him, there were a number of benefactors who federal prosecutors say were ready to help him travel in a manner benefitting the position he was angling for: mayor of New York City.

According to a sprawling, 57-page indictment unsealed on Thursday, there was the chairman of a Turkish university; a promoter “whose business includes organizing events to introduce Turkish corporations and businesspeople to politicians, celebrities, and others whose influence may benefit the corporations”; and a senior official in the Turkish government, who, prosecutors say, “later steered illegal contributions and improper gifts to Adams to gain influence with and, eventually, to obtain corrupt official action from Adams.” 

Adams in the summer of 2017 went with his son and a staffer to Nice, Istanbul, Sri Lanka, and Beijing, flying business class the whole way. In October, he went again to Istanbul and Beijing, and then on to Nepal. Those tickets were, all told, worth $51,000. But he got it all for free. 

The relationship deepened from there, as Adams began to run for mayor in earnest. The Turks allegedly funneled money to his campaign through false entities, or “straw donors.” Accepting such donations is against the law — and Adams allegedly received public matching funds based on these contributions. Adams allegedly returned the favor, in part by pressuring the fire department to allow the opening of a $300 million, 36-story glass tower to house the Turkish consulate, just off of First Avenue and 45th Street, without an inspection and “in time for a high-profile visit by Turkey‘s president” — a diplomatic coup for a man who’s functionally a dictator.

Adams has vigorously denied all of the charges. And at least one Adams ally I spoke with in the immediate aftermath breathed a quarter-sigh of relief — this person was expecting even more, and more serious, charges. “It’s obviously not great but this is weaker than I thought it would be,” the source tells me.

But that exhale assumes that the federal charges against Adams begin and end in this document. They almost certainly do not, with at least four more federal probes reportedly targeting his inner circle and FBI agents searching the mayor’s residence shortly before the indictment was announced. It also assumes that the Turks were the only government to allegedly turn Adams into an unregistered foreign agent. That, too, could prove to be a dangerous supposition — especially given the U.S. Attorney in Brooklyn’s pursuit of Chinese influence in New York. 

In the last four years, that federal prosecutor’s office alone has charged a dozen separate criminal cases of covert Chinese government interference in U.S. politics, business, and civil society. An aide to New York’s governor was indicted as a foreign agent on Sept. 3. An ex-corrections officer got 20 months for harassing an artist who lampooned Chinese leader Xi Jinping. Two more men were arrested for operating a secret Chinese police station out of the Manhattan headquarters of a group for expats from Fujian province. 

The examples spiral out from there.In July, a federal jury in Manhattan convicted Robert Menendez, a Democratic U.S. senator from New Jersey, of taking bribes and acting as Egypt’s agent. In August, federal prosecutors in Brooklyn charged a hitman with trying to assassinate Donald Trump, allegedly on Iran’s orders. In September, prosecutors in Manhattan revealed an alleged Russian plot to funnel $10 million to MAGA influencers. This is a partial list. A snippet of a list, really. And all of these developments happened in just the last few months, just in and around this one metro area, where a wide array of foreign actors are looking to turn New York into something like Spy City.  

The 20 experts, officials, and activists I spoke to couldn’t agree on whether these cases represent a major escalation in this covert activity, an increase in Washington’s willingness to combat it, or both. But they all agreed that such efforts are widespread and being directed by countries across the globe. And while it might be tempting to speculate about what this says about the various foreign policy strategies in foreign capitals, the clear takeaway is that malicious actors around the world see America as pliable, and influence as something that can be bought on the cheap. In other words, the most disturbing part about these covert foreign pressure campaigns is what it says about our politics, our society. About us.

ONE OF THE MORE disturbing foreign influence cases to recently come to light begins 35 years ago, in Beijing. Yan Xiong was a student activist there, jailed for being part of the big Tiananmen Square protests. When he got out, he made his way to America, enlisted in the U.S. Army, and eventually served two tours as a chaplain in Iraq. By 2021, Yan was running for Congress in lower Manhattan. He could tell that something was off. He’d show up to candidate forums, and then wouldn’t be allowed to speak. He’d try to raise money, no dice. There was an old man who wouldn’t stop taking pictures of Yan’s campaign. Yan would go out to his driveway late at night and find a car there, headlights blazing. It was unnerving, but Yan was used to looking over his shoulder.

Nevertheless, Yan was shocked when, in March of 2022, federal prosecutors revealed that he was being targeted by the Chinese government. The goal: to surveil and sabotage the chaplain’s long-shot campaign. “Go deep and dig up something. Right? For example, past incidents of tax evasion… if he used prostitutes in the past… if he had a mistress,” a member of China’s Ministry of State Security allegedly told a private investigator here in the U.S. If the private investigator couldn’t come up with — or make up — any dirt, the P.I. was encouraged to use other means to take Yan out of the race: “In the end, violence would be fine too.” 

In the end, Yan’s campaign netted him only 750 votes — not great, but 50 percent more than former Mayor Bill De Blasio received. The P.I. hired by the Chinese government never found any dirt on Yan, or physically attacked him. But the attempt to ratfuck Yan’s campaign continues to leave a wound. Yan’s getting ready to move for the fifth time in two years — in part “for safety, for psychology.” In August, prosecutors unveiled another layer to the alleged plot against him. The old man who’d been taking all those pictures? He was a former Tiananmen Square veteran, too — one who was now accused of working as an unregistered agent for Beijing. To Yan, he’s another “victim” of a regime that’s all-too-willing to extend its reach here. “It’s a tragedy, that’s my opinion,” Yan tells me.

And Yan’s case isn’t the only one in which there seem to be shadowy figures just out of frame. Shujun Wang, another longtime Chinese dissident, was convicted in late August of working as Beijing’s spy. The other day, I called his lawyer to ask about a member of the defense team, a man listed in court documents as a paralegal, who was, in fact, a Florida realtor, recently acquitted of rape. What was he doing there? Who was he? “He is nobody,” the lawyer answered.  

These influence campaigns by foreign governments, prosecutors allege, reach all the way down to the lowest levels of state and local government. Take Linda Sun, who started in 2012 as one of the more junior aides out of 200 or so in Governor Andrew Cuomo’s office. The former beauty pageant contestant and Barnard grad, who had come to New York from Nanjing when she was a kid, put in the work as a liaison to the borough of Queens and the state’s Asian American community. She’d help connect constituents to government services, make appearances at Lunar New Year events, write up proclamations, and liaise with foreign consulates. Over the years, she gained leverage. Cuomo’s communications shop — described by one former colleague as “95 percent Caucasian” — relied on Sun to tell them how a state proclamation or press release might resonate in Asian communities.

“She did her job. She went home. Didn’t cause any trouble, never caused any drama. But in hindsight, [there was] a lot of trust in that particular position. Because when you ask her opinion about how something plays, we were asking how it plays in, you know, [the Chinese American neighborhoods of] Sunset Park and Flushing. Not how it played in Beijing,” that source tells me.

By 2015, Sun had a willing ear in Kathy Hochul, the new Lieutenant Governor, who was iced out of Cuomo’s inner circle — and eager to build up her own political constituency. Hochul made sure to attend Chinese American community celebrations and events to promote trade with Beijing. (A Hochul aide notes that she interfaced with all kinds of foreign officials, including a half-dozen such meetings just with the Canadians in 2016.) Sun made sure there were all sorts of meetings Hochul wouldn’t take, wouldn’t even know were offered. For example, prosecutors allege, when officials from the rival government of Taiwan tried to get together with Hochul in D.C. in mid-2016, Sun scheduled talks with Beijing’s representatives instead — and then bragged to the Chinese consulate about what she had done. Hochul began to be quoted favorably and often by Beijing’s official state news agency. Sun started to receive gifts from Chinese officials, prosecutors say: tickets to Carnegie Hall, then a wire transfer for $47,895 for travel expenses. 

As Sun’s responsibilities increased, her profile grew. She worked with legislators when Korean American nail salons were revealed to be serially underpaying their workers. She helped steer money to Asian American groups as threats to them rose during the pandemic.

By 2021, Hochul was governor. Sun had a bigger title, deputy chief of staff, and was displaying sharper elbows. “She felt very emboldened with making sure that there was a focus [on] protecting mainland China’s agendas,” State Assemblyman Ron Kim, who previously held Sun’s community liaison job, recalls. “That was universally understood, because when myself and other[s] carried certain resolutions to celebrate U.S.-Taiwan relations, I got calls from the governor’s office letting me know that the Chinese consulate is very upset with you, and they would prefer if I don’t do such resolutions again.” (Sun has pleaded not guilty to charges she acted as an agent of the Chinese government, and her attorneys declined to comment for this story.) 

This might seem arcane and sort of small-ball. Who cares if some local pol doesn’t issue a Taiwan proclamation? But it’s part of a strategy, says Bethany Allen, author of Beijing Rules, echoing the sentiments of several U.S. officials. “If this is done extensively, consistently, quietly across many states, many state capitals, many state governments, local governments,” Allen tells me, “it can shape the debate. Have a strong downward pressure on the things that China wants to quiet.” 

And it’s a strategy that Beijing is willing to pursue over the long haul — to influence people at the lowest levels of local government, and let those folks rise over time. Back when she was a reporter, Allen broke the news of a suspected Chinese spy in California who cultivated relationships from the political to the romantic with city councilmen, small-town mayors, and at least one Congressman. The spy’s true motivations weren’t uncovered until that Congressman, Rep. Eric Swalwell, was on the verge of joining the House Intelligence Committee and gaining access to some of the nation’s better-protected national secrets. (Swalwell denied any romantic relationship, and a House ethics panel decided to take no action against him after a two-year investigation.)  

Linda Sun’s case never reached that kind of crisis point. But her value to Chinese officials was clear. The wire transfers were in the millions by 2021. The Chinese Consul General in New York — a sharp, genial diplomat named Huang Ping — sent Nanjing-style salted ducks to Sun’s parents, a half-dozen at a time. According to one source, she started showing up with a fresh tan and a new, high-end handbag to every community event. “People were definitely talking about how she went from rags to riches overnight,” Kim tells me. “Her parents lived in a one-bedroom apartment… She was trying to get a mortgage to buy a condo in Flushing, and she could barely get that. But all of a sudden, now she’s living in a mansion.” And in a sweet vacation home, too. Around the same time Sun and her husband bought a $3.6 million home in Manhasset, New York, they also, according to prosecutors, purchased “an ocean-view condominium on the 47th floor of a high rise building in Honolulu, Hawaii, currently valued at approximately $2.1 million.”

SUN AND ADAMS ARE the first local officials to be charged with acting as agents of a foreign power. They probably won’t be the last, or even the last in New York. (“What you saw with the governor in New York, that’s going to be scratching an itch that tickles in a lot of different places,” Bill Evanina, who spent seven years as the federal government’s top counterintelligence official, tells me.) The place has long attracted spies and clandestine power brokers, and not just because of the UN, or Wall Street, or all the corporate headquarters. America’s best city is, not coincidentally, also its most diverse; more than three million of the eight million-plus people living here are foreign-born. Those diasporas are often of intense interest to the countries from which they spring, especially if the countries in question are ruled by authoritarians. The revolutionary movements that took down the Czar, the Chinese Emperor, and the Shah were all incubated overseas. 

These diasporas also can wield outsized power in local politics, too. New York’s election laws are so labyrinthine and complex, with elections held on off-years and on strange dates, that they’re practically designed to keep people from voting. (Ron Kim has 115,000 people living in his district in Queens, for example; fewer than 3,200 of them voted in his contested primary race, which is the only race that matters in a one-party town.) So if any one group gets behind a single candidate, or gins up turnout, or dumps in a lot of money, it can swing an election. Kim faced off against a primary opponent backed by a well-known local community leader who is openly supportive of the Chinese Communist Party. They each poured more than $600,000 into that tiny-turnout primary race. “I felt this was a clear effort to get a political seat for a person who is loyal to their agenda,” Kim says. “This isn’t about lawmaking in [the state capital of] Albany, but it’s about being the power broker of Flushing that will give them credibility and access.”

This is all happening in a place where the politics are — there’s no other way to put this — corrupt as fuck. The five federal investigations reportedly swirling around Adams and his closest associates involve everyone from the police commissioner to the schools chancellor to his top fundraisers to a pair of deputy mayors. Adams’ immediate predecessor, de Blasio, dodged indictment for violating campaign finance laws, but not by much. After leaving office, former mayor Rudy Giuliani took money from a North Korean gangster and then worked with a man he admitted was likely a Russian spy. Long Island’s George Santos was expelled from Congress after less than a year; he recently pleaded guilty to identity theft and wire fraud. One of Santos’ bigger Republican critics on the Island, Rep. Anthony D’Esposito, was just exposed for giving Congressional jobs to his lover and his fiancée’s daughter. 

You get the idea: plenty of politicians with their hands out; elections practically designed to be swayed by small groups; those small groups susceptible to foreign infiltration and pressure, because they’ve all got family back home. “New York would be at the top of the list in terms of foreign governments, foreign regimes wanting to target,” says Casey Michel, author of the newly published Foreign Agents. “Especially New York City. I don’t think it’s any surprise that the major investigation into a municipal authority as a target of potential foreign influence is Adams.”

So let’s talk about the mayor. Adams has been ducking corruption allegations — and playing diaspora politics — for more than 15 years. According to the New York Times, a grand jury in July issued subpoenas related to Adams’ ties to six different countries: China, Qatar, South Korea, Israel, Uzbekistan, and, of course, Turkey. In his role as Brooklyn Borough President, Adams attended almost 80 events connected with Turkey, and at least 50 more celebrating China. Some of those events actually upset his Turkish government contacts, according to the indictment. In 2016, a Turkish official told Adams that a community center he used to visit “was affiliated with a Turkish political movement that was hostile to Turkey’s government… If Adams wished to continue receiving support from the Turkish government, Adams could no longer associate with the community center. Adams acquiesced.”

Adams also met multiple times with Huang Ping, the Chinese Consul General who prosecutors later identified as Linda Sun’s handler. And the politicking seemingly continued overseas. Adams took 13 separate trips to Turkey and China, which is a lot of travel to those two specific nations, considering borough presidents don’t really have foreign policy roles. “It’s totally appropriate,” he said after the first of the trips to China, in 2014. “I’m not going to be a MetroCard borough president — I’m going to be a passport borough president.”

City Hall won’t say what all of the trips were for. (They didn’t respond to requests to comment for this story.) The alleged purpose of the Turkey trips, at least, is now less murky after the indictment’s release.When it comes to the others, here’s what we can say for sure: We know that one of Adams’ China travel partners, his longtime Asian community liaison Winnie Greco, had her former campaign office and several of her homes raided by the FBI. We know that Greco and another Adams crony met separately in Fuzhou, the capital of Fujian province, with the man later indicted for operating that secret Chinese police station out of a Fujianese expat society in Manhattan. We know that Adams and Greco appeared onstage at a gala for that charity — the American Changle Association, named for a famed neighborhood in Fuzhou — shortly before it was exposed as a secret police front bythe New York Post. We know Adams was with Association bigwig Lu Jianwang days before Lu was arrested in the secret police affair. We know, thanks to local news outlet The City, that 121 workers at the New World Mall in Queens, the site of Greco’s 2021 campaign office, made donations to Adams of precisely $249 each, one buck below the limit for eight-times public matching funds. Several donors said they were reimbursed in cash, or had no idea they had been listed as contributors at all. This has all the hallmarks of illegal straw donations, as Adams’ team surely knows.One Chinese billionaire who gave money to Adams (and hosted his 60th birthday party) recently pleaded guilty to such charges. 

MAYBE ALL OF THESE connections were on the up-and-up. Maybe Adams’ trips to China and extremely odd donations from his campaign office in Flushing were no more nefarious than the 70-plus flag-raising ceremonies for various countries he’s attended in his two-and-a-half years as mayor. Maybe it’s an accident of scheduling that Huang Ping, the Chinese Consul General, asked him to blow off a banquet with the Taiwanese president and Adams wound up doing just that. Adams may have rubbed elbows with people who were later indicted as foreign agents in groups like the American Changle Association, where voters gather for an old-country meal or speak in their parents’ dialect. There’s hardly an elected official in New York who didn’t make such a visit, or get his picture taken at some point with Huang. Of course they did. Huang was a gregarious, effective, charming diplomat. He may be accused of secretly handling alleged agents like Linda Sun, but chatting up local politicians was most definitely Huang’s job.  

You don’t have to be some kind of simp for Beijing to find this kind of criminalization of foreign influence a little hypocritical, given all the governments the U.S. helped overthrow in the past century. You’re not necessarily an abolish-the-police type if you think the feds have gone overboard in their hunt for Chinese agents. “We’re not China. We’re supposedly a free country, and the government should take more care in prosecuting and, in turn, persecuting people,” John Liu, a state senator from Queens, tells me. This is personal for him. While he was gearing up to run for mayor more than a decade ago, the FBI ran a sting on him and his donors, part of a straw-donor probe he says was oh-so-subtly named “Operation Red Money.” They did find some straw donors, and a top aide did go to jail. But Liu himself was only fined $26,000 — proof, he says, that the whole investigation was overheated. Nor is it a one-off. Liu points to cases like Baimadajie Angwang, the cop accused of spying for China, only to have the charges dropped without explanation. By that time, the NYPD had fired him. “You know what? It wouldn’t be so bad if the government pursued these cases, made them as visible as they intentionally make them, and actually had a pretty good record of success,” Liu says. “It bothers me that there’s no accountability of any kind. You know, the government does this, and it doesn’t matter how many lives are ruined [or] the impact on the wider community.” 

There’s no question there’s been overreach, including horror stories of Chinese Americans interrogated by the FBI, seemingly for no reason at all. “We should absolutely oppose any effort by any foreign government to undermine our American society, our way of life, our democracy,” says Rep. Grace Meng, who hired Linda Sun when she was in the State Assembly and now represents a large part of Queens in the U.S. Congress. But “there’s a lot of fear right now in the Asian American community,” she adds. “Every day, young, professional Asian Americans are really scared that these harmful stereotypes are being fueled… [by] questions that are asked only of us.”

As overzealous as some prosecutors may have been, though, and as ugly our recent turn toward anti-China and anti-immigrant politics, there are too many of these foreign influence cases, tied to so many different outside actors, to brush off. A former Republican Congressman is under indictment for covertly working for Venezuela’s dictator. A major Trump fundraiser pleaded guilty to doing the same on behalf of the Chinese and Malaysian government officials, in a case so weird and sprawling, a member of the Fugees wound up with a foreign agent conviction as part of it. Things are so bad, the guy that’s supposed to be leading the investigations into these cases in New York — the head of the state’s FBI counterintelligence division — was himself sentenced earlier this year to federal prison for doing the bidding of a sanctioned Russian oligarch. The MAGA crowd can whine all they want about the #resistance obsession with “Russia, Russia, Russia.” Folks on the political left can roll their eyes at what feels like a Trumpy obsession with Chinese influence, or another red scare. It takes a kind of willful blindness not to see a pattern here. Liu, for one, called on Adams to resign after prosecutors unveiled their indictment which showed just how deep the mayor’s ties to Turkey went.

“This isn’t a Republican problem or a Democratic problem — it’s completely bipartisan,“ Michel tells me. “And as we’re now seeing, it’s not just one level of government these regimes are targeting. It’s everyone.”

For half a century, the American government hardly bothered to enforce the Foreign Agents Registration Act, which requires influence-peddlers to disclose their overseas clients, at least. That changed after the 2016 election, when Trump recruited the O.G. of scummy foreign lobbying, Paul Manafort, to run his campaign and publicly begged for a dictator’s help to win. The Department of Justice went on to prosecute Manafort and so many others — from the Russian troll farm to the white-shoe law firm Skadden, Arps — for breaking that law. Brandon van Grack, who oversaw many of those prosecutions as head of the Justice Department’s Foreign Agents Registration Act unit, says the apparent surge in cases we’re seeing, eight years later, is a result of that 2016 wake-up call. He credits “greater resources and tools to identify and disrupt those influence operations than an increase in the operations themselves,” adding, “Foreign influence is not novel.”

It’s not exactly dying down, either. A few years ago, you might have thought that prosecuting folks like Manafort would at least serve as a warning shot. The sheer range of regimes trying to influence the 2024 election paints a different picture, and I don’t just mean the fact that Manafort is a free man and doing Fox News hits from the Republican convention. “I would say that a couple things are true in this specific situation. Yes, there are more investigations, because there are allowed to be. And I think our adversaries are more brazen than they have ever been,” Evanina, the former counterintelligence chief, tells me. 

There’s a good argument that the number of prosecutions isn’t even the right metric to gauge foreign influence. Registering as an overseas lobbyist — dodging a FARA charge — that’s the easy part. More than 1,000 foreign principals have done so since 2016, spending more than $5.5 billion to whisper in lawmakers’ ears. At least 90 former members of Congress have registered since 2000 to push another government’s agenda. Scores of U.S. generals and admirals have taken jobs with foreign governments in the last decade, with Saudi Arabia alone hiring 15 retired flag officers. Biden talked in 2020 about banning former officials from lobbying for foreign powers. It was just talk.  

The Supreme Court in recent years has radically raised the bar on bribery cases, and functionally removed any restrictions on campaign spending. That’s allowed Americans closely aligned with foreign governments to make enormous investments in shaping U.S. policy. The best known of these are the lobbyists pushing the agenda of Israeli leader Benjamin Netanyahu, who gave over a million dollars to the now-convicted Sen. Menendez, even after he was indicted, and spent millions more on successful primary campaigns to knock out two of Israel’s few critics in Congress. None of this violates any laws. But maybe that’s beside the point. The real foreign influence scandal, Michel tells me, is how much of it is “perfectly legal.” 

If you’re mad at outside actors for exploiting America’s system, don’t be. The United States is still the world’s biggest power; of course every other nation is going to try to pull us in their direction. Try directing your anger a little closer to home. All of these politicians on the take, we voted for them. The bullshit China or Iran pumps out on TikTok? It’s downright factual compared to the nonsense we Americans push one another. And if you think a guy like Eric Adams is an outlier with his, shall we say, open-minded approach to campaign finance and outside influences, allow me to introduce you to the Republican nominee for president and his inner circle. The Congress we elected has bottled up nearly every attempt to close these foreign-funding loopholes. The campaigns we supported went along with the Supreme Court’s decision to make elections a feeding frenzy. This is a choice. Collectively, we made it.

IN THE HOURS AFTER Linda Sun and her husband were charged as Chinese agents on Sept. 3, Gov. Hochul urged the U.S. government to expel Sun’s alleged handler, Consul General Huang Ping, and a State Department spokesperson claimed that Huang had “rotated out of the position.” Yet on the night of Sept. 5, at Manhattan’s storied Plaza Hotel, Huang Ping appeared onstage at the China Institute’s $2,500-per-ticket Blue Cloud gala, looking rather dapper in a well-tailored tuxedo. Pictures were posted to the consulate’s website two days later. “Consul General Huang Ping is performing his duties as normal,” read a statement sent out to reporters.

A few hours after he was indicted, Huang’s longtime interlocutor Eric Adams promised to do much the same. “My attorneys will take care of the case, so I can take care of this city,” he said. “My day to day will not change.”