Last week didn’t go well for Paul Manafort. The former chairman of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign was already facing federal criminal charges for an elaborate scheme to hide as much as $75 million from the U.S. government when Robert Mueller, the special counsel in the Russia investigation, named Manafort in not one, but two superseding indictments. The new developments left Manafort with the fearsome prospect of two separate trials, millions more in legal fees, and even more time in prison, beyond the many years he was up against. Worst of all, Manafort’s co-defendant and longtime second banana, Rick Gates—the former deputy chairman of the Trump campaign and head of the underwhelming Trump inauguration—pleaded guilty and agreed to provide testimony and information to Mueller and his team. When Gates walked out of the federal courthouse on Friday, he was practically beaming.

To me, the outcome could not appear more grim for Manafort. After practicing federal criminal law for 40 years as a prosecutor and defense lawyer, I had already thought the pending charges against him looked dead bang. They were assembled by some of the most high-powered prosecutors in Washington. They were intricately documented. Worse, they are unlikely to endear a jury to Manafort, who allegedly used his ill-gotten gains to pay for fancy cars, clothes from tony men’s shops, and the upkeep on several houses. But as bad as things appeared, the addition of Gates as a witness ensures that prosecutors will be able to offer live narration for what’s on all that dry paper. As I see it, Manafort’s eventual trials will be little more than what is referred to in the trade as a “slow plea”—a milk run to a certain conviction.

Nonetheless, Manafort has announced his intention to fight on, making him the only key defendant in Mueller’s investigation not to plead guilty and cooperate with authorities (leaving aside the 13 recently indicted Russians who are unlikely ever to be seen again on U.S. soil). It’s intriguing therefore to speculate on the thinking of the Manafort legal team, which, I believe, must be focused on the hope of a presidential pardon, despite the many risks and contingencies that such a strategy entails.

That Mueller is eager to hear from Manafort cannot be doubted. Few in the inner Trump orbit are more likely to have light to shed on the Trump campaign’s possible collusion with people of influence inside Russia. Manafort has long maintained close ties to Russia, not only through his work for the government of Ukraine, but also as a result of his own activities, which included investing with and representing Vladimir Putin crony Oleg Deripaska, an aluminum oligarch. What’s more, Manafort attended the infamous June 9, 2016 meeting at Trump Tower, arranged by Donald Trump Jr., during which they expected to receive dirt about Hillary Clinton as part of the Russian government’s effort to back the campaign. Coincidence or not, it was only a few weeks later that the first tranche of hacked Democratic National Committee e-mails were published by WikiLeaks. Later that summer, it was Manafort’s former lobbying-firm partner, Roger Stone, who made the ominous prediction that Clinton’s campaign chairman, John Podesta, was next to get his “time in the barrel.” Podesta’s e-mails began appearing on WikiLeaks several weeks later.

Indeed, The Wall Street Journal reported that in the spring of 2015, U.S. spy agencies captured Russian officials talking about Manafort. After Manafort left the Trump campaign, the Journal said, American investigators obtained a warrant to conduct surveillance of Manafort as part of the probe into Russian interference in the 2016 election. Probable cause would have been required to obtain the warrant, but the underlying evidence, which Mueller now must have, has never been revealed. So, given all this, what is Manafort’s best option to save his skin?