For a time, Paul Manafort may have been holding out for a presidential pardon. Donald Trump teased the possibility last month, in the wake of Manafort’s conviction on eight counts of bank and tax fraud, praising his former campaign chairman as “brave” for refusing to “break” under pressure, he called the case against him “very sad” and a “disgrace.” “He believes [Manafort] has been mistreated,” Trump’s lawyer, Rudy Giuliani, told reporters. But given the harrowing political realities facing the president, in the form of Robert Mueller’s probe and a potential Democratic takeover of the House, a pardon was never a safe bet. And so, as he awaits the start of a second trial in D.C., and the realities of taking the stand as a convicted felon have sunk in, Manafort appears to have had a change of heart.

Less than a week before jury selection is scheduled to begin in Washington, Manafort is reportedly in talks with special counsel Mueller’s office about a potential plea deal, The Washington Post reported late Tuesday. The details of the negotiations are unclear, and whether Mueller would be willing to cut a deal with Manafort remains an open question, according to the Post. But that the defendant is engaging on the issue at all marks a sharp shift in his position. (Both Jason Maloni, Manafort’s spokesperson, and Peter Carr, Mueller’s spokesperson, declined the Post’s request for comment.)

Perhaps the most tantalizing question raised by the Post’s reporting is the possibility that Manafort is trying to scare Trump into action. Earlier this summer, at the start of the Alexandria trial, Manafort’s defense attorney Kevin Downing flatly asserted there was “no chance” of cutting a deal with the special counsel. But the fact that Manafort, unlike the other ex-Trump campaign officials ensnared in the Mueller probe—George Papadopoulos, Mike Flynn, and Rick Gates—chose not to do so, despite having the greatest legal liability, has long been a source of curiosity. It’s possible that the guilty verdict served as a wake-up call for his legal team. Although Manafort was only found guilty of 8 of the 18 criminal counts he faced, former Illinois federal prosecutor Renato Mariotti told me that the takeaway was unambiguous: “As a practical matter, he has completely lost in this trial.” Coupled with the claim from a Trump-supporting member of the jury that the mistrial on the remaining 10 counts was the result of a single holdout, it was unlikely that Manafort’s team was optimistic heading into round two. Indeed, after the verdict, Downing changed his tune, telling reporters that his client was “evaluating all of his options at this point.” (On Wednesday, ABC News confirmed that Manafort is in discussions with Mueller’s team, but is resisting cooperating on issues related to the president, according to sources familiar with the talks.)

Even if Manafort does strike a deal with Mueller, the eight counts he was charged with will stick. As Mariotti told me last month, when it comes to a potential plea deal, “The benefit that [Manafort] is going to get is lower than it would have been otherwise, and he is going to have to do more to get [that] benefit.” A presidential pardon could erase those charges, of course, but it wouldn’t preclude the possibility that Manafort could be re-tried on similar state-level charges in Virginia or New York, which are outside Trump’s jurisdiction.

Perhaps the best Manafort could hope for, then, is to plead guilty to the charges he faces in D.C. In exchange, Mueller might agree to roll those charges into the Virginia case. A sure deal, after all, would be safer than banking on Trump’s loyalty. As people like Michael Cohen have learned the hard way, the president has no qualms about throwing even decades-long allies under the bus. “Manafort, if he trusts in [a presidential pardon] and is fooled,” Harry Litman, a former U.S. attorney, told me, “Well, he wouldn’t be the first person to be fooled.”