McCollum said he is asking a federal judge to quickly hold a hearing on a lawsuit he filed last month to keep the agreement from going into effect until the Florida Supreme Court decides whether Crist was authorized to sign the compact without legislative approval.

The agreement allows Las Vegas-style slots and card games like blackjack and baccarat at the Seminole's seven casinos. The state would get $50 million immediately and $100 million guaranteed in the first year. In the second year, the state is guaranteed $125 million and at least $150 million in the third year. Following that, the amount depends on revenues - but everyone involved in the negotiations said it will quickly add up to billions.

Without the compact, the tribe would have at least been able to install Las Vegas style slots without paying any money to the state because the Florida approved slots at Broward County jai-alai frontons and horse and dog tracks.

Crist signed the compact in November. House Speaker Marco Rubio and Senate President Ken Pruitt are challenging Crist's authority to enter into the agreement on his own and the Supreme Court plans a hearing on the case Jan. 30.

David Barron, 29, filed an appeal on behalf of two Kentucky death row inmates, arguing that the three-drug cocktail used in lethal injections across the country can cause excruciating pain, and thus amounts to cruel and unusual punishment in violation of the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution.

After three years of long hours on Barron's part, the Supreme Court agreed to hear arguments in the case on Jan. 7.

"I can't believe I've got a case before the Supreme Court and I'm not even 30 years old," Barron said.

This is the first time in more than a century that the high court will address the legality of a method of execution. Thirty-six states use lethal injection, and executions across the U.S. have come to a halt in the meantime.

Barron, an assistant public defender, arrived in Kentucky in 2004, just over a year out of law school, to represent some of the worst of the worst — death row inmates. He was admitted to the Kentucky bar in July of that year, and filed his lethal-injection challenge the following September, employing a strategy he had tested out in other jurisdictions.

He was paired with John Palombi, a fellow public defender with at least a decade of experience.

The challenge was brought on behalf of convicted cop killer Ralph Baze and Thomas Clyde Bowling, who was found guilty of killing a couple. Barron lost the cruel-and-unusual argument at a trial and at the Kentucky Supreme Court. But he kept pushing the case, hoping to keep his clients alive a bit longer.

He beat long odds: The Supreme Court gets as many as 7,000 petitions a year but agrees to hear only 100 to 150 cases.

Lethal injections have come under legal attack around the country in recent years, with experts and others arguing that it is not the humane, painless method of execution it was supposed to be.

Legal experts said the Kentucky case apparently got the attention of the high court because it arrived fully developed — it went through a full-blown trial with more than 20 witnesses, who argued both sides of the question of whether inmates suffer extreme pain while immobilized, unable to cry out.

Death penalty proponent Kent Scheidegger, legal director of the Criminal Justice Legal Foundation, said the case gives the Supreme Court "a clear shot at the merits of the injection question."

"The trial court took extensive testimony, building a substantial record. That makes a better case for review than one decided summarily in the trial court," Scheidegger said.

The challenge is the ninth case the Kentucky's public defenders have gotten before the high court in the past three decades. Among the others was the landmark 1986 ruling Batson v. Kentucky, in which the Supreme Court found it unconstitutional to dismiss a juror because of his race.

Barron works in the public defender's capital post-conviction unit, a corps of 10 attorneys who handle appeals for Kentucky's 38 death row inmates.

The unit's chief is the only one who has ever argued a case before the U.S. Supreme Court. In fact, for this case, the public defender's office is bringing in Donald Verrilli, a Washington lawyer who frequently appears before the high court, to argue the challenge.

Such a move is not uncommon. Only those who are admitted to the bar of the Supreme Court can argue before the justices.

The shaggy-haired Barron — a Billerica, Mass., native who received a law degree from Brooklyn Law School in 2003 — can be found in his office at nearly all hours. His office is about the size of a walk-in closet and is so cluttered that Barron must move boxes and books for visitors to sit down.

Barron is a hardcore Boston Red Sox fan, papering his office door with pictures and headlines. He draws professional hope from the way the Red Sox finally won the World Series after 86 years of futility.

"There's something to be said about representing the people who society casts aside," Barron said. "They are the ones often left to fend for themselves."

Public defenders work one of the lowest rungs of the legal profession, one that is often not very highly regarded by other lawyers. Many young lawyers right out of law school often get their start as public defenders, and often race from case to case with barely enough time to read the file, much less do the in-depth investigation attorneys in private practice can do.

Public defenders have traditionally received little funding, particularly in the South. Kentucky has one of the lowest-funded offices in the country.

The starting pay for most Kentucky's public defenders is about $38,000 a year.

Kentucky spends about $33.5 million in 2005 (the last year for which numbers were available) on a population of 4.1 million. That's about $8.14 per person for public defense — 23rd among the 30 state-run public defender offices nationally. Oregon leads the nation at $23.75 spent per person.

"It's an uphill battle," said Ernie Lewis, head of the Kentucky Department of Public Advocacy. "We can't provide an O.J. defense."

A former sheriff's deputy who suffered a career-ending back injury when shocked by a Taser stun gun during training has lost an attempt to revive his product liability lawsuit.

The Arizona Court of Appeals on Monday upheld a Maricopa County Superior Court jury's verdict for Scottsdale-based Taser International Inc. in a lawsuit filed by Samuel Powers, a former county sheriff's deputy.

A three-judge Court of Appeals panel ruled unanimously that a trial judge was correct to rule that Powers wasn't entitled to have jurors instructed they could hold Taser liable for dangers that the company didn't learn of until Powers' injury.

Arizona has not adopted a so-called "hindsight" test for strict liability product claims involving allegations of failing of defects, the Court of Appeals said.

Employing the hindsight test in warning defect cases "would be tantamount to imposing a duty on manufacturers to warn of unknowable dangers," Judge Daniel A. Baker wrote for the panel.

Powers, a 16-year veteran of the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office, was shocked July 16, 2002, while participating in an MCSO training and certification course on Taser's M-26 stun gun.

According to court papers, he suffered a compression fracture of a spinal disc and, during treatment, was discovered to have severe osteoporosis, a condition that weakens bones. His doctor ordered him restricted to light duty, and Powers resigned as a deputy on June 2003.

Powers' suit alleged that Taser's M-26 stun gun was unreasonably dangerous and defective because it lacked adequate instructions and warnings, but Taser argued that it did not know that the muscle contractions produced by the weapon were strong enough to cause a fracture.

The ruling also upheld the trial court's order that Powers reimburse Taser for its expert witness fees and costs because Powers had rejected a pretrial settlement offer that would have been more favorable to him than the eventual outcome of the case.

Powers argued that the payment order was improper because the settlement offer was conditioned on its terms being kept confidential, but the Court of Appeals said that requirement didn't violate state court rules.

Thomas C. Wilmer, one of Powers' attorney, said he hadn't seen the Court of Appeals ruling but that it was likely that Powers would ask the Arizona Supreme Court to review it.

The majority opinion in the 5-2 ruling, written by Chief Justice Thomas J. Moyer, said the Ohio law revised did not violate the constitutional rights of injured parties to trial by jury, to a remedy for their injuries or to due process and equal protection.

"The decision in this case affirms the General Assembly's efforts over the last several decades to enact meaningful tort reforms," Moyer wrote.

In one of its challenged provisions, the law caps awards at $250,000 or three times the amount of economic damages, whichever is greater, up to an absolute limit of $350,000. The exception is when a plaintiff suffers permanent disability or loss of a limb or bodily organ system.

In another, the law prohibits awards for punitive damages exceeding two times the amount of the compensatory damages awarded the same defendant.

The court threw out a similar law in 1999 in a decision that prompted businesses to criticize Democratic justices who voted against the legislation. Since then, the court has become an all-Republican bench. In the 1999 vote, two Republicans joined the court's two Democrats in striking down the law, which was revised in 2004.

The U.S. Chamber of Commerce, National Association of Manufacturers and the National Federation of Independent Business Legal Foundation had joined in urging the court to uphold the law.

Groups urging the court to overturn it included the Ohio Academy of Trial Lawyers, the Ohio Conference of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

The groups had been ordered in a 2004 civil case to pay 156 million dollars to the family of 17-year-old David Boim, killed in 1996 in an attack. A federal appeals court ruled Friday that the groups' role was not fully established.

It ordered a new trial to examine more closely the links between the organizations and the boy's death.

"The Boims will have to demonstrate an adequate causal link between the death of David Boim and the actions" of the groups, the court ruling said.

"This will require evidence that the conduct of each defendant, be it direct involvement with or support of Hamas's terrorist activities or indirect support of Hamas or its affiliates, helped bring about the terrorist attack that ended David Boim's life."

The groups had been charged with taking part in terrorism by aiding or financing Hamas, a powerful Islamist movement in the Palestinian territories.

"The Boims' theory ... was that in promoting, raising money for, and otherwise working on behalf of Hamas, these defendants had helped to fund, train, and arm the terrorists who had killed their son," the ruling said.

The defendants included the American Muslim Society and the Holy Land Foundation for Relief and Development, which was the biggest Muslim charity in the United States until it was outlawed after the attacks of September 11, 2001.

The foundation also faces separate criminal charges for alleged links with Hamas. It is charged with giving 36 million dollars to committees controlled by the movement from 1992 to 2001.

A leading US Muslim rights group, the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), welcomed the appeal court's decision Friday.

"This landmark ruling is a strong rejection of the recent disturbing trend of political lawsuits against American Muslims who have committed no crime other than providing humanitarian aid to Palestinians," it said in a statement.

"CAIR deplores the murder of David Boim and hopes that the actual wrong-doers are brought to justice."

Their lawyer, Mark Geragos, says he will refer the case to prosecutors for possible criminal charges against the insurer, Cigna HealthCare.

"All of the doctors there unanimously agreed that she needed and should have that liver transplant. And the only entity, if you will, who said no to that in the middle of that medical decision, was some piece of garbage who decided that making a couple of dollars, or saving them a couple of dollars, was worth more than the 65% chance over six months that she would survive," said Geragos.

"The only reason they approved it is because we had organized a protest in front of Cigna's corporate headquarters& and in the face of public pressure, they did it," he said.

By the time the approval came through Nataline had been on the liver transplant list for two weeks and her condition had deteriorated so badly that it was too late to have the procedure.

"I believe, the corporation knew, powers that be knew, that at that point approving the liver transplant was a 'gimme' because her condition deteriorated to the point where she couldn't receive the liver&she didn't have any chance of either, one, getting a liver or, number two, actually being able to receive it," he says.

Nataline, who was fighting leukemia, developed liver failure after complications from a bone marrow transplant she received from her brother last month.

Despite her already fragile health, Geragos says, "all of the doctors at the University of California Medical Center unanimously agreed that she needed and should have that liver transplant."

More than 6,000 liver transplants are performed in the United States every year, making it one of the most common organ transplants, according to the United Network for Organ Sharing.