Copperheads - 12 (38 page)

“What on earth were you thinking?” Bishop snapped at his wife, clearly upset.

Shrugging in innocence, Terri looked like the cat who had just swallowed the canary. “Because I think this whole military tribunal thing is absolutely ridiculous. That kid made a mistake of the heart. He didn't act in the name of personal gain or wasn’t trying to deliberately harm the Alliance or his team. He was hoodwinked by a pretty face and an honorable cause. Diana should be pinning a medal on his chest, not putting him on trial.”

Bishop shook his head in frustration, “You don’t understand. The rules Butter violated have been a necessary part of military life for hundreds and hundreds of years. Armies can’t be effective without that kind of discipline and restriction. Their governments wouldn’t trust them. The entire system would fail.”

“SAINT teams aren’t the Army,” Terri countered. “You may be paramilitary in form and function, but you also play the role of law enforcement, diplomats, and trade envoys. On this specific mission, you were providing security for a foreign trade delegation, while secretly playing the part of intelligence agents. How can you possibly try to impose such narrow rules on men who fulfill such a wide variety of missions?”

Bishop didn’t want to have the trial right then and there. His arm throbbed constantly, his team was exhausted, and there were still hundreds of individuals and tons of food to deliver. He had at least a dozen reports to write one-handed, and would be answering Nick’s questions for hours. “If you want to represent Butter, that is your decision. As long as you don’t get so deeply involved that it affects us, I’m good.”

She waved a hand through the air, dismissing his concerns. “This will be easy,” she smiled. “I got this with one hand tied behind my back,” she teased, pointing toward his slung limb.

At first, Bishop thought his wife was making a huge mistake. Diana and Nick were their friends, yet both of the government officials had taken an oath to serve the Alliance. The families of the fallen deputies and truck drivers deserved justice.

During the drive back to Texas from the plantation, Terri informed him of her strategy. “We are going to plead guilty,” she announced. “I’m going to save all my powder for the punishment phase of his hearing.”

As she continued to describe her plan, it was easy for Bishop to visualize the circus-like atmosphere that was sure to surround the event. The courthouse in Alpha would be overflowing; newspapermen from all over the territory would flock to write their articles. He could see Nick entering the courtroom, forced to dress more like a businessman than the Alliance’s top military commander – the necktie and jacket looked odd on the big man, his finger repeatedly seeking to loosen the restrictive top button of his shirt from his massive neck.

General Owens would be there, his formal dress greens glistening with awards and ribbons. Sheriff Watts would no doubt be involved, his flawless uniform projecting authority and service. Yet, if Terri got her way, they would all end up looking like fools.

Yes, it would be a widely publicized event, drawing a packed house and dominating conversation in the capital for days.

“I’m going to call you, Grim, and Kevin to the stand first,” Terri announced. “Then we’ll bring April and May up from Mexico to tell what happened down there. Oh, and we’ll have Mr. Beltran testify as well. This is going to take a long time, but Butter deserves justice.”

Bishop groaned at the prospect, fully realizing what a huge series of problems his wife was about to create.

Terri would stress the seams of military law, basing her arguments on the unique nature of the SAINT organization and its cross-foundational reach. Diana would want no second-guessing of the due process being administrated by the Alliance and would have to give the defense plenty of leeway.

Butter was well known and popular, yet the families of the truck drivers and law enforcement officers who had lost their lives in Mexico deserved the best the government could offer. The whole thing could easily get out of control.

“Why are you going to do this?” Bishop finally protested. “You know this could seriously damage the Alliance and hurt Diana in the next election. Is that what you want?”

“No,” she pushed back. “I want our law to protect the individual, not the institution. If we don’t respect individual liberties, we’re no different than Bella Dona’s plantation.”

“There’s a huge difference!” Bishop snapped, now growing angry.

“Is there? Really? Other than the pay scale, what is the difference? We have trials. They are fair, regardless of whether the government likes it or not. Butter’s rights are more important than the Alliance, and the minute we let that slide….”

“Stop the truck!” Bishop snapped in frustration.

“Huh?”

“I said stop the truck.”

Terri, worried something was wrong with her husband, did as ordered. Before the lead pickup had even rolled to a stop, he was climbing out the passenger door.

The entire convoy pulled to the side of the road, the drivers in the follow-on vehicles staring at Bishop with questioning faces.

Down the line of trucks Bishop stormed, his fuming gait heightened by the restriction of his arm that in the sling.

Grim met the procession commander four trucks back, the old soldier scanning right and left, thinking there were bandits or trouble coming from the surrounding countryside. “Bring Butter up here, right now!” Bishop ordered.

“Sir?”

“What is everyone’s fucking problem today?” the Texan growled. “Am I not speaking loud enough? I said, ‘Bring me the prisoner.’ Now!”

Terri, worried that Bishop had lost his mind, rushed up. Her husband pivoted and said, “This is a private meeting.”

“What are you doing, Bishop?”

“I said this is a private meeting! Do all of you people have wax in your ears or something?”

Grim and Kevin arrived just then, a very confused looking Butter between them. “Reporting as ordered, sir!” the big kid announced.

“Leave us,” Bishop instructed his wife and the two guards.

When they were alone, Bishop stepped close to the big man. “Of all the bullshit we have to deal with. Of all the crap that seems to fall on our heads, I find myself having to deal with your stupidity.”

Butter didn’t respond, now wondering if his boss had finally cracked under the stress.

“So here’s the deal, young man. I have the right to prosecute charges in the field. As a sworn officer of rank, it is well within my prerogative to administrate justice if a proper hearing and court martial aren’t practical. Do you understand?”

A look of fear crossed Butter’s face. He’d never seen Bishop like this, didn’t know what to expect.

“Do you understand?” Bishop barked, seriously wondering if everyone around him was deaf from the battle.

“Yes, sir,” Butter responded sheepishly.

“Good. Now, I have one question, and one question only for the accused. If you had it to do all over again, would you still have gone down the same path?”

Butter had to think about his response, and Bishop gave him plenty of time. After more than a minute of consideration, the big kid nodded, “Yes, sir. If I had to do it all over again, I would still have had to help those folks.”

“Why?”

Tilting his head, Butter said, “Because it was the right thing to do, sir. I felt it in my gut. My heart and head were in agreement. It was the high road, the moral thing to do. I have only one regret, sir… one bad call that is eating alive from the inside out.”

“And that bad call was?”

“I didn’t come to you, sir. That was a mistake, and I will never forgive myself for it.”

Bishop nodded, sure that Butter had just spoken with a pure, heartfelt honesty.

Pacing back and forth on the side of the road, Bishop finally reached a decision. “By the authority granted by my commission, I hereby find you guilty of all charges. You will receive a reduction of two pay grades for a period of one year. If no further transgressions are committed, your pay will be reinstated after that time. Do you understand?”

Blinking rapidly as he digested what had just happened, Butter finally acknowledged his commander’s question, “Yes, sir, I do.”

“Attention!” Bishop barked, moving to stand within an inch of the taller man’s nose. In a cold whisper, he growled, “If you ever violate my trust again, son, we won’t have a hearing … or defense lawyers, or a trial. I will personally kick the living shit out of you and throw you off my team. Is that clear?”

A huge smile broke out on Butter’s face, “Does that mean I’m still on the team, sir?”

Bishop remained stone cold serious but didn’t say anything. Finally pivoting smartly to the nearby huddle of Grim, Terri, and Kevin, he snapped, “Get this man his weapon and assign him to one of the security posts. He is now officially reinstated, and make sure he earns his pay. There’s been enough sloppy discipline in this unit, and we are turning over a new leaf as of today. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?”

“Yes, sir,” the team crisply responded.

As Bishop passed by his wife, he winked and whispered, “Benevolence can also feed loyalty.”

THE END