Court Martial (21 page)

“Thank you. We will.” Tallon beckoned one of the guards to come over to his defense table. “Would you escort Sergeant Woods
outside for a minute please and wait until I call for him to come back inside. Thank you.”

Woods and the MP went out into the hallway. David lit a cigarette and stared out the window, wondering what the defense counsel
was up to. The door opened a few minutes later and Tallon called them back inside. The courtroom lights had been turned off
and only a faint light glimmered in a projection booth high up on the back wall, throwing off just enough light to cast dark
shadows in the room but not enough light to see anything except the outlines of a dozen men standing in a row next to the
wall at the far end of the room.

“Now, Sergeant Woods… is there enough light?” Tallon’s voice was extremely cocky.

“Give me a second for my eyes to adjust.”

“Sure, take all the time you need.”

David waited until his eyes were accustomed to the light and looked around the room before telling Tallon that he was ready.
He had located the row of board members and Arnasao and Spencer sitting in the front row of the audience.

“Can you see the row of men standing next to the opposite wall?” Tallon’s voice almost broke out in a mocking laugh.

“Yes sir.”

“How far away do you think they are?”

Woods located himself in the room and made the easy judgment call from having seen the room lit up before. “Thirty-five feet.”

“And you said that Specialist James was ten feet away from you and had !us back to you, right.

“Yes… in a lit hallway.”

“Right, Sergeant… but you said that you could identify him in the dark.”

David had used the time to examine each of the men’s silhouettes while the defense counsel talked. He was sure that James
wasn’t standing against the wall. He was being tricked. Woods glanced back over to where Arnasao sat and noticed that his
arm lay along the back of the chair. Arnasao saw the angle of Woods’s head and guessed that he was looking over at him, and
he pointed with his whole hand up to the back row. Woods saw James’s head and shoulders silhouetted against the wood paneling.
Tallon had screwed up. If the counsel had sat him down a couple of rows, James would have blended in with the massed crowd.

“Well, Sergeant, have you located Specialist James in that row of men?”

“No sir.”

“Then you
can’t
identify him in the dark as you said you could.”

“I didn’t say that, General. I said that I couldn’t locate him in that row of men against the wall. He’s not there… he’s sitting
up there in the spectator stands.”

The lights came back on and flashbulbs hurt everybody’s eyes as the news people took pictures of the soldier who could see
in the dark.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Tallon’s voice was curt. “Your witness, counsel!”

General Heller stood up smiling. “I have no further ques tions, sir,” he said to the president of the board.

The rest of the morning the lawyers called on witnesses for and against Specialist James, with most of the witnesses for him
coming from the membership of the Brotherhood and the Detroit mosque. The trial counsel tried sticking to the charges against
James, while the defense tried lining up character witnesses who praised James’s childhood.

Right before it was time to break for lunch, Brigadier General Tallon called for Corporal Barnett to appear on the witness
stand. The courtroom was stunned by the cheap tactic. Spencer smiled and swore in before the president of the board. He had
been waiting for anything to happen and wasn’t shocked or caught off guard, as the media was, by Tallon’s waiting until everyone
was tired and hungry before calling the star witness.

“I know you have been called here by the trial counsel, but I feel that you also are a prime witness for the defense. You
were a prisoner with Specialist James, and if I’m not mistaken, you were captured by the North Vietnamese during the same
battle.” Tallon looked at Spencer, who just looked back at him.

“Well? Were you?”

“What?”

“Captured during the same battle with James?”

“Yes.”

“Were you
both
beaten by the NVA soldiers?”

“No.”

“Specialist James has testified already that he was beaten by the NVA when he was captured. Are you calling him a liar?”

“Yes.”

A buzz filled the courtroom from whispered conversation in the press booth.

“I see.” Tallon went back over to the defense table and conversed with the other lawyers and with James. He approached Spencer
again smiling. “Do you remember any photographs being taken while you were being tortured?”

“No…I was preoccupied.” The tiny little smile attached to the corner of Spencer’s mouth brought roars of laughter from the
spectators and forced the president to use his gavel to regain order in the courtroom

“Then you never saw anyone take any photographs?”

“I already said no.”

“Don’t get cocky, Corporal!”

Spencer stared at the brigadier general while the trial counsel appealed the treatment of the witness.

“All right, I withdraw my last remark.” Tallon was regrouping—nothing was going right for him. “Did Specialist James take
part… any part… in torturing you while you were a POW?”

“Yes.”

“Are you
sure
that he did it of his own free will?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Look at his face in the picture. Is that an expression of a man who is being
forced
to beat another prisoner or the face of a man
enjoying
what he’s doing?”

“I’ll ask the damn questions, soldier!”

Major General Koch beat the desktop with his gavel to regain control. “Gentlemen! Please… I must have order. Corporal Barnett,
please answer only the questions you are asked!”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, Corporal Barnett… we all know that you are a decorated war hero. You even hold the Medal of Honor, our nation’s highest
award for valor.... Congratulations!” Tallon smiled. “Let me ask you a question, though: do you hate black people?”

“Most of them.” Spencer didn’t hesitate.

“Do you hate Specialist James?”

“Yes.”

The courtroom became a tomb of quiet.

“Well, if you hate black people, just because they’re black… and you hate Specialist James, who’s very black… how do we know
that you’re not lying about him beating you?”

Spencer sat quietly in his chair. Brigadier General Heller felt his heart beating faster. Slowly Spencer leaned over and untied
his shoes. He slipped off his socks and held his feet up so that the members of the board could see the soles of his feet.
The scar tissue could be seen from across the room. He held his feet up for a full minute and then stood up and unbuttoned
his shirt and laid it over the back of his chair, followed by his T-shirt. The crisscrossed pattern of the scars made good
material for the photographers’ cameras.

“If you want me to drop my pants, I’ll show you the scars from the bamboo rod James used to whip me with when I was tied to
a bamboo pole.” Spencer’s voice carried no malice, just fact.

Tallon’s breath caught in his throat as he stood looking at the handsome soldier’s scarred body. He was James’s defense attorney,
but he also was an Army officer and a human being.

Spencer saw the look in Tallon’s eyes and added, “They don’t hurt anymore, but they sure did when James and Sweet Bitch were
putting them there.”

The sound of the gavel striking the table filled the room. “This general court-martial is adjourned until two P.M.” Major
General Koch had seen enough and so had the board for one session. Everyone in the courtroom needed a break from the tension
that was building up. Reporters raced from the building to make telephone calls back to their offices. They all sensed a big
story brewing.

Brigadier General Talton and all of James’s lawyers sat around the large table in the mess hall. The conversation was grim.

“We are not going to win our case if we can’t establish ourselves during the Articles 104 and 105—aiding the enemy and misconduct
as a prisoner—portion of this court-martial. As far as I’m concerned, we already lost the Article 106 charges when they accepted
those damn statements as evi dence from those men who identified James dressed as an Army captain,” said the Black Muslim
lawyer.

“I agree, counselor, but the
critical
charges are coming up next—Article 118.... If they can make murder charges stick, James is going to jail for a very long
time. He can survive the charges under Article 106 for spying and
even all the
rest because we can say that he broke under torture… but killing one’s fellow American soldiers in combat is going to be
impossible to appeal and plead mercy.” Tallon looked over at the black lawyer and added, “Remember that there’s a
death
penalty for murder in the military.”

“There’s a death penalty for spying and one for aiding the enemy.” The deep voice of the civilian lawyer got even deeper.

“Yes, I know that, but like I said earlier, we can get around a death sentence on those charges because of the extreme pressure
a POW is under. Nobody nowadays expects a prisoner of war to withstand extreme torture and not talk.”

“It looks like that white corporal did....” The black lawyer tried smiling but Tallon caught the hate in his voice and looked
hard into the man’s eyes.

“There are no witnesses to any murder that James is charged with, and all twenty-three counts are based on what James said
to General Garibaldi and Barnett while he was a POW.... That won’t count for a number of reasons, with the best one being
that James can’t testify against himself.” TalIon didn’t like the look in the black lawyer’s eyes and he stopped talking to
look at the rest of the black lawyers who had all come from the same black law firm in Detroit. There was something very wrong
in the way they looked and acted, almost as if they were not Americans but representatives of a foreign country.

“Let’s see how it goes this afternoon.” The senior civilian lawyer pushed away his steel tray and stood up. “Personally, I
think there is enough doubt to sway the board on the aiding-the-enemy charges, and we can always fall back onto severe brainwashing
to get James to copy those overlays in the headquarters building.... Maximum would be a couple of years in a federal stockade.”

“I agree. We do have a chance, and when you add in all theracial unrest throughout the country… they just might drop the whole
damn thing to hold down black rioting in the big cities.” Tallon saw the sparkle in the senior lawyer’s eyes. He had made
that statement to see what the effect would be.

“You just might have a point there, General!” The lawyer looked over at his assistants. “That was very good food, considering
it was Army chow.”

“There have been a lot of changes in the military in
recent years.” Tallon was becoming very uneasy with the black lawyers.

“Not enough and too late.” The comment almost was racial. The lawyers left the brigadier general sitting alone at the table.

Heller had been watching the conversation from his table on the other side of the room where they had sectioned off a portion
of the mess hall for members of the trial team so that the two factions could talk openly during their lunch break.

“I think James is going to jail for a very long time.” Arnasao made the open comment to the small group of men crowded around
one of the tables drinking coffee. General Heller had called all of them together after lunch to have a strategy session.

“Let’s not bet on it. Remember what’s going on
outside
Camp McCall. There’s a lot of racial unrest and I wouldn’t be surprised if the President himself didn’t step forward and
pardon James for anything he’s charged with while he was a POW.... No, our
best
and surest charges are going to be under Article 118... murder.” Heller bit his bottom lip.

“I was on that patrol in Recondo School where Sergeant McDonald was sure James killed one of our guys under fire.... ” Woods’s
voice sounded as if it was going to break.

“We’ve got your statement and Barnett’s too, but that’s all very weak circumstantial evidence.” General Heller smiled. “I
have a real surprise for James and his galley of lawyers this afternoon.... We might not make twenty-three charges of murder
stick, but I think I can nail him for three of them.”

“How?” Arnason leaned forward in his chair.

“A surprise!” Heller patted Spencer’s shoulder. “You did real good in there this morning. I don’t think I could have thought
up a better response to Tallon’s question about the beatings. I was looking at the board’s faces when you pulled off your
shirt and
all
of them were impressed, with maybe one exception.”

“Who was that?” Arnason whispered the question as the defense team walked past them on their way back to the courtroom.

“Sergeant Colorado… the Indian.” Heller rubbed his chin. “There’s something wrong there, especially the way he stares at Corporal
Barnett.”

“I haven’t noticed, but I will when we return this afternoon.” Arnason had wondered why the defense hadn’t challenged Sergeant
Colorado when they had started the proceedings. Colorado had a reputation for being one hardassed NCO.

The press area was already packed when the trial team entered the courtroom and Spencer was escorted back up to the witness
stand.

“I don’t have any further nnestions at this time, sir ” Tallon knew that he had lost in his first attempt at breaking the
star witness and was trying to recoup his losses.

Major General Koch looked over at Heller. “Do you have any questions for this witness?”

Heller stood up slowly and looked over at Tallon and the sea of black faces surrounding him. “Yes, I do, sir… quite a few.”

Brigadier General Heller took his time asking Spencer questions about his short but emotionally destructive period of time
as a POW. Spencer described in detail the incidents with the huge reticulated python and the impaling of the live Montagnard
boy on the bamboo stake and his being forced to watch the execution from less than three feet away and his three days of being
forced to sit in front of the sun-swelled corpse. Even the most left-wing reporter was moved by Spencer’s story and more than
one reporter flashed hate-filled looks over at James.