Word of Honor (15 page)

Tyson climbed the concrete steps of the pool and sat on the pool edge, his feet in the water. "Let's hear the guarantees. "

Brown moved closer to him. "First, if you voluntarily place yourself under Army jurisdiction, you will be assigned to a post within twenty-five miles of the metropolitan area. "

"Sounds like an enlistment pitch. How about a new uniform?,,

"Sure. Also-and this is important-you will not be placed under restraint of any sort. You will be as free as you are now, within the parameters of your duties, if any. Okay so far? "

"No, but go on."

Brown's tone was impatient. "Look, Ben, if they get you back in after a court fight, it won't be so easy on you. They'll assign you to Fort Burnfuck in the Arizona desert, and you'll be confined to quarters."

"Don't threaten me, junior."

Brown stood in the shallow water on the concrete step and clenched his fight fist, cracking his knuckles. He said, " You don't want to be confined to quarters, Ben. You won't like that. Neither will your family. Your wife.

She'd probably have to stay in New York to work. It would get very lonely for her, buddy ... or maybe it wouldn't-"

Tyson drove the heel of his foot into Brown's solar plexus. Brown's eyes and mouth opened wide as he doubled over and stumbled back down the pool steps.

The two old men at the far end of the pool didn't notice, and the lifeguard kept reading his book. A young man in a nearby deck chair stood suddenly and made eye contact with Tyson.

Brown straightened up and caught his breath. His head bobbed quickly several times, and he motioned with his hand toward the young man. Tyson stood and took a step

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back from the pool as he kept an eye on the man. The man sat back in his chair.

Brown drew several deep breaths and stared up at Tyson. "Okay . . .

okay.... I had that coming . . . ... Brown put his hands on the edge of the pool. "I'm getting out. Okay? Truce. "

Tyson nodded.

Brown lifted himself out of the pool and turned from Tyson. He walked slowly to his deck chair and wrapped a towel around his waist. He sat on the edge of the chair and patted the chaise longue beside him.

Tyson walked to it, grabbed his towel, and put it around his waist.

Brown said, "Feel better?,Sit down."

Tyson felt much better. He stretched out in the chaise longue.

Brown massaged his midsection. "Christ ... you see, you are a violent man.

You're normal." Brown affected a smile.

Tyson relaxed but kept his eye on Brown. It came to him that since Vietnam he hadn't felt much deep passion, anger, or challenge. In a way, he realized, he was reverting, regressing in time and temperament, to the type of person he had been before Marcy, suburbia, middle age, and the corporate structure began limiting his aggressiveness. He was taking more control over his life, which in other ways was coming apart. He said to Brown, "I'm sorry. But if you piss me off again, I'll hit you again."

Brown forced a weak smile. "Okay. Can I finish my business?" Brown leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. "VAere was I? Restraint. Right.

If you are actually court-martialed I can also guarantee that you won't be placed under restraint even during the trial. Therefore, if things don't seem to be going well in the courtroom, you at least have the option of removing yourself in the ultimate sense from Army jurisdiction. In fact, you can go now if you wish. No one is watching you."

Tyson said nothing.

Brown added, "Your passport will not be revoked or confiscated as is the normal procedure. But if you decide

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to go, now or at anytime, please go someplace where you won't embarrass the government with an extradition problem. Brazil is the choice of most, but you might consider Sweden." He leaned closer to Tyson. "Listen, everything I'm offering is within the power of the executive branch to do--

"Sweden! Are you trying to tell me that eighteen years after I served my country and came home, I should run to Sweden? I should run to Sweden where-"

"Please lower your voice."

Tyson sat up. "-where the deserters and draft-dodgers went? I should go to Sweden when all the draft-dodgers have been given a presidential pardon? Where's my presidential pardon?"

"It is rather ironic if you think about it-"

"Fuck you, Brown! Fuck you and whoever sent you."

"Not so loud, please."

"I'm not going anywhere, goddamn it! I'm an American citizen, and this is my country. Fuck Sweden and fuck the Army!"

Brown glanced around the pool area. "Calm down."

Tyson lifted himself out of the chair. "Listen, Chet, or whatever the fucjk your name is, tell your bosses this: I may be a suspected mass murderer, but I am also a certified war hero. I have two fucking Purple Hearts-- Tyson pointed to the white scar tissue that disfigured his right ear, then to the thick purple line that curved around his kneecap and ran down his shin. "I have a fistful of medals and commendations. I am also a husband, a father, and a hardworking taxpayer. I am a respected member of my community, and I have never knowingly broken the law in my life.

If something did happen in that shithole eighteen years ago, something that maybe lasted thirty minutes of my forty-year life, then . . . then.

. . . " Tyson found his heart was beating heavily and his fists were clenched. He glowered at Brown, who was sitting very still.

Brown spoke in a soft voice. "This was the first war in our history that produced not one certifiable, media-anointed, publicly acclaimed war hero. Not one." Brown stood. He stared at Tyson for some time, then added, "Hey, you have to understand, my friend, there are no bad guys in this piece.

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Not me, not Van Arken, not the folks in the White House, not the media, and not even you. There is only the system. The law."

Brown touched Tyson's arm gently and cocked his head toward the locker room. As they walked, Brown said, "No one has anything against you personally. Everyone I spoke to wishes you well. But you have to understand, Ben, the military needs this one. You've read the Peers Commission report on My Lai, haven't you? Well, everything that General Peers said was wrong with that case, from beginning to end, will be right with this case. No cover-ups, no legal blunders, no undue command influence, no congressional whining, no journalistic Monday-morning quarterbacking, no fuckups. Just justice. Even if we have to script it and fake it. Okay?"

They reached the door that led to the locker room and stopped. Tyson said,

"Tell them I'm a fighter, Chet."

"I will." Brown rubbed his stomach. "You are." Brown glanced around. "I'm going to do some laps. You have to get going." Brown hesitated, then said,

"There's more. You see, Ben, you can hurt the Army, the government, and the country if you want. So if you're going to fight, fight fair. If you're going to run, run clean." Brown continued, "No swipes at the Army or the President or the system. No criticism of the Army justice system, no going on about the immorality of the war. No talking to reporters. No opening of old wounds."

"That's it'? Or that's not it?"

"Almost. We want you to accept a JAG-appointed defense counsel. " Brown glanced at Tyson, then continued. "We don't want you retaining an F. Lee Bailey. You couldn't control a hotshot civilian lawyer. The deal wouldn't work with a civilian. You see, a civilian would drag it out, try to get all kinds of publicity for himself. We want the trial concluded before the reporters from the Times and the Post get their pens uncapped. We don't want the continuing saga of Ben Tyson on the nightly news. Neither do you.

" Brown continued, "Though you can't plead guilty, you can at least refrain from calling witnesses, cross-examining government witnesses, and that sort of thing. There's nothing irregular about not offering a defense. In fact, military court-martial

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boards look favorably on that. They'll probably hand you one to ten for being a gentleman. And you won't do a day of it anyway. As long as you accept this offer. Okay? Do you understand what is required of you? We'll remind you of what is required from time to time as certain situations arise." Brown added softly, "It's not a bad deal, Ben. It guarantees you won't be imprisoned. Will you think about it?"

-Sure. I I

Brown smiled, then gave Tyson a hard look. "If you turn this deal down, there will be no hard feelings. But do not mention this conversation to anyone. Not your wife, your lawyer, or anyone. If you do and we find out, then ... then it becomes personal."

Tyson nodded.

Brown said, "I'll call you." He extended his hand. "No hard feelings. -

Tyson took Brown's hand. "When I drove my heel into your solar plexus, it was not personal, Chet. I was acting out my rage against the system."

Brown laughed. He turned and walked toward the pool. Tyson watched him jump in, then passed through the door to the locker room. Yes, he thought, justice will be done, even if it has to be scripted and faked.

M General William Van Arken stood behind a podium that bore the

pen emblem of the Judge Advocate General's Corps. He addressed the four officers seated before him. "Although we have no authority at

13 present to investigate

the Tyson case, we

may choose an investigating officer to contact Mr. Tyson on the day he receives his recall orders, to inform him that charges are being contemplated against him, and to inform him of his rights."

Van Arken looked at the three men and one woman seated in the row of writing desks in the small lecture room located in the third side of the Pentagon. Van Arken's adjutant, Colonel Sam Spencer, sat directly in front of him. To Spencer's right was Lieutenant Colonel Eugene Pellum, Van Arken's special legal counsel. To Spencer's left was Captain 117

118 * NELSON DEMILLE

Lorraine Connelly from personnel. Next to her was Lieutenant Jack Gibbs, Van Arken's aide. Van Arken said, "As you know, the Uniform Code of Military Justice recommends that in felony cases, the investigating officer be a major or higher rank. Therefore I've asked Captain Connelly to assemble the microfilmed files of approximately twentyfive such officers who may be suitable to conduct this investigation. " Van Arken motioned to the projection screen behind him.

"I'll remind you," he continued, "that in the interests of fairness, we should not discuss this case as such, but we can make references to certain facts that are relevant to the task of choosing an impartial investigator."

He looked at his legal counsel. "Colonel Pellum?"

Pellum nodded. "Let me also remind everyone that just as we have the sworn duty to choose an investigator who will not be prejudicial toward the suspect, we should also choose someone who will not be sympathetic toward him. "

Colonel Spencer added, "As we know, any JAG officer should be impartial and acceptable. However, in this case it would be appropriate to consider candidates."

Captain Lorraine Connelly said, "We should perhaps first come up with a profile. Credentials, requirements, character traits, and so forth. Then we can narrow the field."

Van Arken nodded in agreement. "Well, what are we looking for?"

Colonel Pellum replied, "Ideally, the investigating officer should be as free from negative or positive bias regarding the Vietnam War as possible."

He smiled grimly. "That would either be someone who is young or someone who has spent the last two decades on the moon."

Lieutenant Gibbs spoke. "Maybe the investigating officer should be someone who has decided not to continue his military career." He hesitated before adding, "Someone who has nothing to lose and nothing to gain. An officer who won't feel . . . pressured to come to a conclusion that he feels will please the Army."

Van Arken didn't reply.

Colonel Spencer nodded. "That's a good point. No one can accuse us later of bringing in a gung-ho hatchet

who's trying to make rank."

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Several heads nodded. The discussion continued for some minutes before Van Arken said, "In summation, then, everyone feels that this officer should not have served in Vietnam or even have been in the service during the Vietnam era. That would obviously be consistent with him not being a career officer. He should in fact be too young to have even been involved in college activities, pro- or antiwar during this period. " Van Arken reflected a moment. "There can't be many men in that age group who are majors and who are not continuing their military careers."

Captain Connelly said, "I think someone who is fulfilling a four-year tuition assistance obligation will meet these requirements. "

Van Arken mulled over these suggestions. This was not precisely what he had in mind. He said, "I want a man who will project a good image for the Army and for the Judge Advocate General's Corps."

No one responded.

Van Arken said, "Well, let's begin going through the files." He pressed a button on the podium to signal the man in the soundproof projection room.

"Excuse me, General." Captain Lorraine Connelly spoke. "May I make a suggestion?"

The lights dimmed, and the screen behind Van Arken brightened. The General looked at Lorraine Connelly in the reflected light of the screen. "Yes?"

She said, "I suppose it isn't proper for any of us to propose a candidate, but that's what I'm going to do."

"Whom do you have in mind?"

She replied, "Major Karen Harper."

There was a stillness in the darkened room. Captain Connelly added, "Some of you may know her. I met her when we worked together in Germany."

Connelly paused, then said, "I included her file among the ones we're going to consider. Why don't we look at it first?"

No one responded.

Captain Connelly spoke into the silent darkness. "Major Harper fills the initial requirements that we've agreed on. In addition, she is very thorough. Good attention to detail. Fine judgment, shows outstanding initiative, and her personal appearance is always up to standards."