In a political landscape rocked by bombshell accusations, the war for the truth has become a dirty, desperate fight. At the center of the storm is Master Sergeant Orle Gotesa, a whistleblower whose explosive affidavit details the alleged delivery of suitcases packed with cash, connecting some of the most powerful names in the country. But just as his testimony was reaching a fever pitch, the entire case was nearly derailed. The new narrative: Gotesa’s affidavit was fraudulent, its notarization faked.

This “technicality” became the new line of attack, a seemingly easy way to discredit the man and his entire story. But those who were quick to celebrate his downfall failed to account for one of the Senate’s most formidable brawlers: Senator Rodante “Dante” Marcoleta.

In a fiery, no-holds-barred interview, Senator Marcoleta did not just defend the embattled whistleblower; he took a metaphorical baseball bat to the entire case against him. He exposed the attacks as a desperate diversion, a “sham” designed to protect the powerful. And in the process, he revealed a cover-up that is far more shocking than a notary’s signature.

“He has nothing to gain here. He has everything to lose,” Marcoleta stated, his voice ringing with conviction. This was his opening salvo in defense of Gotesa’s credibility. He painted a picture of a man who was brave enough to be the only one to “connect the dots” between the powerful figures and the illicit cash.

Then, he went straight for the “notary” issue. With the surgical precision of a lawyer, Marcoleta dismantled the argument. “I don’t think he has the capacity to falsify,” he argued. “Saan siya kukuha ng stamp? Saan siya kukuha ng dry seal? Paano niya mahihiram ‘yung notarial register?” (Where would he get a stamp? Where would he get a dry seal? How would he borrow the notarial register?)

He slammed the entire line of questioning as disingenuous, painting a picture of a reality every Filipino knows. “Notary public services in this country has become a cottage industry,” he declared. He described the common practice of going to offices near city halls where the lawyer is nowhere to be seen, and a “secretary” or “staff” member simply stamps and signs the document. “Wala pa akong nakitang nagpanotaryo sa buong buhay ko na binalikan niya… at siniguro niya ‘Ma’am, sir… kayo nga po ang pumirma nito.’” (I have never seen anyone in my entire life who, after getting a document notarized, went back… and confirmed, ‘Ma’am, sir… did you really sign this?’)

Marcoleta’s point was scalding: Gotesa was being crucified for following a common, everyday practice, and this practice was only being weaponized because of who his testimony threatens.

But this defense was just the warm-up. The real “banat”—the real hit—was Marcoleta’s counter-attack.

With the notary issue exposed as a red herring, Marcoleta turned the spotlight back on the Senate committee and its investigators. “Why not just follow the lead?” he demanded. He argued that instead of “grilling” and “humiliating” Gotesa over a signature, they should be doing their actual job: investigating the crime.

“Ang unang makapagpapatunay niyan,” he thundered, “tawagin nila yung dalawang lalaki na binabanggit niya doon. Ang pangalan ay John Paul Estrada at saka Mark Texay.” (The first thing that can prove this… is to summon the two men he mentioned. Their names are John Paul Estrada and Mark Texay.)

This is the bombshell that changed the entire conversation. According to Gotesa’s affidavit, these two men were the ones who would allegedly “handle” the money deliveries, count the cash, and move the suitcases. They are the corroborating witnesses. They are the missing link.

“Bakit ang pinipilit ni[lang] gisahin si Gotesa?” Marcoleta asked. (Why do they insist on grilling Gotesa?)

And then, he delivered the answer. “Ang balita… tinago raw yung dalawa.” (The news is… the two are allegedly being hidden.)

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and dark. This was no longer about incompetence; this was about a conspiracy. And Marcoleta was not done. He provided a specific, chilling detail.

“Yung John Paul Estrada, nandoon daw sa Chile,” he revealed. “Huling balita, Chile. Why? We have no extradition treaty with Chile.” (John Paul Estrada is reportedly in Chile. The last news is, Chile. Why? We have no extradition treaty with Chile.)

The implication was horrifying. The key witness in a massive corruption scandal has been flown to a country where he is legally untouchable, a place with no extradition treaty. This is not something an “ordinary individual” could orchestrate. This, Marcoleta implied, is a high-level cover-up to protect the real culprits.

Marcoleta also had venom to spare for his own colleagues, specifically former Senator Ping Lacson, whose “spy-like” behavior he found deeply offensive. He referenced an interview where Lacson meticulously used Senate CCTV footage to track Gotesa’s movements on the day of the hearing. “I saw that Gotesa was fetched… at 8:27 and he was… whisked into the office of Senator Marcoleta,” Lacson had stated.

Marcoleta was furious. “I took offense,” he said. “I don’t think this is the job of a senator… Can I also do the same to him? …Baka hindi rin mabutihin.” (Maybe the result wouldn’t be so good.) He painted the act as a desperate, paranoid attempt to frame him as the “orchestrator” of Gotesa’s testimony, another diversion from the actual facts.

Senator Marcoleta’s interview has successfully and violently shifted the entire narrative. The story is no longer about a whistleblower’s faked document. It’s about a high-level cover-up, a coordinated effort to silence a witness, and the “disappearance” of two key men—one to a non-extradition country. The “technicality” has been exposed, and the real “humiliation” now belongs to those who were pushing it, all while the real evidence, and the real witnesses, are being scrubbed from the picture.