A Convicted Armed Robber’s Plan to Get Out of Jail: Hire a Trump Lobbyist

The president’s pardoning blitz has inspired an economy of lobbyists, with clients far afield from typical pardonees.

President Donald Trump

President Donald Trump signs an executive order in the Oval Office. Evan Vucci/AP

Convicted armed robber Yener Vahit Belli, the “Hoodie Bandit,” is slated to serve a dozen years more in federal prison to pay off his societal debt for brandishing a firearm and terrorizing patrons while robbing two convenience stores of several hundred dollars, 61 Florida Lottery tickets and a pack of smokes.

But now — taking cues from the likes of corrupt congressmen, felonious rappers, scofflaw CEOs and money laundering cryptocurrency titans — Belli’s family has hired a registered federal lobbyist to help petition President Donald Trump for a pardon.

It’s the latest twist in a nascent political influence trend that’s emerged during Trump’s second term, during which the president has granted federal pardons or clemency to more than 1,800 people — already exponentially more people than during his entire first term.

It also provides insight into how the presidential pardon process, the epicenter of which in recent months has shifted from the Department of Justice to the White House, increasingly involves politically savvy operatives, including federal lobbyists — and how those lobbyists are changing the ways a wide world of incarcerated people think about their post-conviction options.

Some lobbyists have earned five- and six-figure paydays in recent months petitioning Trump’s government for client pardons, creating a presidential pardon influence economy that puts a premium on personal connections and simply didn’t exist until recently.

Belli’s pardon lobbyist, according to a new federal record, is Mike Beltran, an attorney based in Trump’s home state of Florida who previously served as a Republican in the Florida House of Representatives and has attended recent Trump events, including the president’s 2025 inauguration.

In an interview with NOTUS, Beltran said a friend introduced him to Belli’s case last year, and he became interested in it. Belli’s family officially contracted with Beltran on Nov. 24, federal lobbying records indicate.

Since then, Beltran has argued to Trump’s Department of Justice that Belli’s initial 32-year sentence is the “product of an outdated and now-rejected interpretation” of federal law for robberies committed with guns, and that “the original sentence dramatically exceeded what Congress now deems fair.”

In a petition Beltran helped facilitate, Belli said he is not the same 26-year-old “struggling with drug addiction and untreated bipolar disorder” as he was when he committed the crime.

Now, Belli says, he’s a model inmate who’s earned a master’s degree in business administration, crafted a reentry plan and largely kept out of trouble. He has a job waiting for him in his brother’s electrical contracting company. His mother affirms that Belli can live with her immediately after his release.

“I know I can never undo what I did, but I have done everything within my power to become a better man,” Belli said in his official petition for commutation of sentence, a copy of which NOTUS reviewed.

Belli’s story is one of evolution and redemption, Beltran said.

“This is a case about proportion and sentencing. My client is ready to lead a law-abiding life. Him still being in prison is not a good use of taxpayer dollars,” Beltran said.

“President Trump understands these things,” added Beltran, who received $15,000 to lobby on Belli’s behalf during the final weeks of 2025, according to a lobbying financial disclosure.

While frequently taking a tough-on-crime tack during his two presidential terms, Trump has also championed some criminal justice reforms, such as his signing in 2018 of the First Step Act, which sought to “reduce the size of the federal prison population while also creating mechanisms to maintain public safety.”

“We’re all better off when former inmates can receive and reenter society as law-abiding, productive citizens,” Trump said at the time.

In 2020, Trump pardoned a reformed bank robber, Jon Ponder, saying, “We believe that each person is made by God for a purpose.”

The Department of Justice, which is now stocked with Trump loyalists, has long played a key role in vetting federal pardon applications. But the Department of Justice does not have ultimate decision-making power. The pardon power is exclusive to the president and may be used — or not used — as he sees fit, per the Constitution.

And use it Trump has.

The president’s second-term pardon decisions have been a whirlwind, from his clemency for about 1,500 people associated with the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol, to his pardoning last week of former Puerto Rico Gov. Wanda Vázquez Garced, who faced years in prison for alleged bribery involving an Italian-Venezuelan billionaire whose daughter donated $2.5 million to a pro-Trump super PAC. Trump also pardoned the billionaire, Julio Martin Herrera Velutini.

Former Rep. George Santos, former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich, former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani and former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernández are among the highest-profile people Trump has pardoned.

Binance founder Changpeng Zhao, who Trump pardoned in October 2025 after he pleaded guilty to violating federal anti-money laundering laws, received nearly $300,000 worth of federal lobbying assistance ahead of his pardon, according to lobbying records from the first nine months of 2025.

And Roger Stone, a Republican political operative Trump pardoned in 2020, is now lobbying on behalf of Roger Ver, or “Bitcoin Jesus,” who agreed last year to pay nearly $50 million as part of a deferred prosecution agreement with the Department of Justice to resolve charges that he evaded taxes.

Energy company CEO Anne Pramaggiore, rapper Boosie Badazz and “scam PAC” operator William Tierney are among those who continue to seek pardons — with the help of hired lobbyists.

“The president, not anonymous sources or media speculation, is the final decision maker on any pardons,” a White House official told NOTUS. “President Trump is the final decision maker. Anyone spending money to lobby for pardons is wasting their money.”

As for Belli’s specific case?

“The White House does not comment on potential clemency requests that may or may not exist,” the White House official said.

The Department of Justice did not respond to a request for comment.

Jeff Hauser, executive director of nonprofit watchdog group Revolving Door Project, says Belli hiring a lobbyist is “absolutely smart” — almost a prerequisite for a federal inmate who wants their case to stand out to Trump and his key Department of Justice lieutenants.

It also underscores what Hauser says is a broken pardon system where money, connections and flattering Trump are worth as much or more than a case’s merits.

“Trump 2.0 is obliterating any hope for an impartial, disinterested government applying the rule of law equally,” he said. “The pardon process is a battle royale of making a government work for you. I don’t blame this guy for securing a lobbyist — I’d probably do the same if I was in his shoes.”

As for Belli, Beltran recently wrote a six-page letter — with more than 80 pages of enclosures — on behalf of his client to Trump ally Ed Martin, who last year failed to become U.S. attorney for the District of Columbia but now leads the Department of Justice’s Office of the Pardon Attorney.

“We respectfully urge the President of the United States to grant clemency and commute Mr. Belli’s sentence to time served,” Beltran concluded.

Separately, Belli wrote that he has “worked hard to prepare for this next chapter” and that he is “fully committed to being a productive, law-abiding member of society.”

“I’m ready to prove that I’ve changed and to give back to the community that stood by me,” he said.