Court Martial (7 page)

“Yes sir. I’ll have a list by close of business today.” The senior NCO sipped from his coffee cup to cover his embarrassment.
His eyes kept going back to the screen and the list of charges. How could any soldier betray his country and his fellow soldiers
like that?

“Thank you, Sergeant Major. Also, the court-martial will be held at Fort Bragg in a secure area called Camp McCall.” The general
thought that now was a good time to qualify why they had chosen the isolated training camp. “Two men tried breaking James
out of prison at Leavenworth last week. One of them was killed and the other escaped. We think that there will be other attempts
to break him
_,
free and also possible attempts on the lives of the prime witnesses and possibly even those members serving on the court-martial
board.” The general looked quickly at each of the officers.

“Who are the
prime
witnesses?” General Heller asked.

“The main witnesses are Corporal Barnett and Major General Garibaldi from the Air Force, who served in the POW camp with James.
There’s also a Master Sergeant McDonald from the Recondo School in Nha Trang, and a Sergeant Woods who supposedly saw James
dressed as an Army captain in the Twenty-fourth Corps Headquarters, and a Marine lieutenant colonel who swears that James
came into the operations room and traced major battle plans.” The general caught the sick expression on the face of the major
general. He smiled to himself. Koch had always taken the safe way out of everything all during his Army career, ever since
they had been classmates at West Point. The lieutenant general had personally selected the major general to be president of
the general court-martial. Politics was a way of life for a Pentagon officer and major events such as this were a way to get
rid of one’s enemies and at the same time keep other enemies too busy to strike back.

“General,” Colonel Sinclair spoke up from his chair, “I don’t know if I’m eligible to sit on this board.”

“Why is that, Reggie?”

“I know a couple of witnesses for the prosecution. Barnett and Woods. They served with my son on a recon team in Vietnam.”

Lieutenant Colonel Martin became very interested in the sharp-looking Colonel Sinclair.

“I don’t think just
knowing
a witness will disqualify you, but thanks for bringing it up. We
must
ensure nothing screws this case up! Colonel Chan… would you check this out for us please?”

“Yes sir, but I’m sure he will still be qualified as long as he’s not going to appear as a witness himself.”

“Let’s go around the table....” The lieutenant general pointed with the stem of his unlit pipe at the FBI special agent. “Mr.
Manning?”

“Good morning, gentlemen. I have only a little information at the present time but I feel it’s significant nonetheless. Specialist
James has bragged on a number of occasions that he would never stand trial. The incident at Fort Leavenworth proves that he
means what he says. The two men who made the attempt at breaking him out of the prison came very close to succeeding and I’m
glad to say that a number of the prison’s policies have been changed because of the attempt.” The special agent looked around
the room and then rested his eyes on the white-haired lieutenant general. “I have to be very careful in what I say next because
we don’t want to prejudice the case against James.” He took a long sip from his tepid coffee before continuing. “We think
that James is associated with a radical movement called the Death Angels. They are the military arm of a religious sect called
the Nation of Islam. Buford Heneri is the leader of the sect and goes by the name of Muhammed Elijah. We have never been able
to penetrate any of their secret meetings, but we’ve heard
rumors that
human sacrifices are made.”

“Rumors?” Major General Koch interrupted.

“Rumors from a number of different sources.” The special agent smiled. “We don’t react to rumors, but we do
listen.”

“What kind of human sacrifices?” Colonel Chan asked the question now that the major general had opened up the floor.

“We think that they use the sacrifices as a bonding tool for something more sinister.”

“What the hell can be
more
sinister than human sacrifices?” General Koch adjusted his seat farther back from the conference table in an effort to psychologically
detach himself from the proceedings. He had maneuvered politically to gain the command of the highly prestigious Special Forces
Command at Fort Bragg, but he was neither qualified nor truly interested in the men of that command. He was an Army officer
and was using the position as a stepping stone to a shot at the Chief of Staff slot in Washington. The lieutenant general
knew that, and that was why he had selected Koch as the president of the general court-martial board. There was a good chance
that whoever held that position would lose his ass, politically.

The FBI agent looked at the major general out of the corner of his eye and then back at the senior officer, who nodded his
approval for him to answer the question. “Our office in Detroit is currently investigating the mutilation and murder of a
fourteen-year-old boy. Windsurfers on Lake Saint Clair found the body floating near the shoreline. It had been wrapped up
in a half-dozen garbage bags and tied with a rope. Air pockets had been formed and the bundle floated just under the surface.
The kids thought at first that it was a bundle of garbage, but one of them was keen enough to notice a small streak of blood
leaking out of the package and waved over one of the police boats.” The agent swallowed before continuing. “The boy had been
hacked to death… his scrotum and testicles had been cut off, and I think the worst part was the look of terror that had been
frozen on that kid’s face....”

“You saw the body?” Colonel Chan; the legal officer, asked.

“I’m assigned to the Detroit office.” Mr. Manning started tapping the top of the table with the eraser end of his pencil.
“There’s been a rash of unsolved kidnappings in Oakland County and all of the victims have been white boys between thirteen
and fifteen, all but one of them was blond with blue eyes and all of them were considered very handsome by their peers.” Manning
sighed. “We think this Muslim group is involved with the missing kids and we’re hoping that all of them haven’t been… haven’t
been murdered like the boy we found in the lake.”

“What does this have to do with James?” General Koch flexed his jaws.

Manning looked over at him. “James was a member of the cult before he joined the Army and we have photographs of him with
the dead man who tried breaking him out of Leavenworth. The dead man was one of these Death Angels and we’re almost sure that
James is one too.”

“What the hell is all this talk about
Death
Angels?” Koch was becoming very nervous.

“Well, General.
simply
put,” answered Templar, from the CIA, “we think that Death Angels are a secret organization of black males who kill whites
exclusively.
Now do you know what that means, General?” Templar’s tone of voice was extremely patronizing. “That means
if
Specialist James was a member of this group,
and
they specialized in killing whites,
then we
don’t just have a psychopathic murderer on our hands but
one,
I underscore the word,
one
of many organized murderers on our hands, and it is interesting to note that the Nation of Islam has chapters in every single
metropolitan area in the United States and even overseas with the armed forces.”

“We know that Death Angels have to kill and prove it to get their
wings,
but we don’t know how many victims are needed.” Manning’s voice had taken on a very deep tone.

“Damn!” The single word from the psychiatrist was an appropriate ending to the special agent’s briefing. He was the first
one in the room to fully realize the extent and the impact.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Manning nodded at the psychiatrist and ended his briefing with a closing sentence. “I hope all of you
gentlemen realize how many missing kids there are every year in the United States, and this hippie movement has put thousands
of kids on the highways.”

Major General Koch’s face turned white. He had seven sons and his fifteen-year-old had just run away. “Does this cult have
one of their mosques in North Carolina?”

“I don’t think so, but they have a very large one in Washington, D.C.,” Manning answered.

A little color came back into Koch’s face. As soon as this meeting was over he was going to call back to Fort Bragg and have
them intensify their search, and then he promised himself that he was going to spend more time with his kids.

“Mr. Templar? Do you have anything to add?” The lieutenant general lit his pipe and the pleasant odor of Captain Black pipe
tobacco filled the room.

“Only that we have evidence that Specialist James was seen leading North Vietnamese patrols dressed in American uniforms.
The sightings were confirmed and photographed by our agents in the field.” Templar looked over at Colonel Chan, who was sitting
next to him.

“I pass, General.” Chan shook his head as he thought. He had been assigned by the Army’s Judge Advocate General to be the
law officer for the general court-martial and on his shoulders rested the responsibility to ensure that a mistrial didn’t
happen. “But to ensure we don’t cause a mistrial, I recommend that this group doesn’t meet again until they’re in court.”

“I agree. I just wanted to let all of you know how severe the consequences can be.” The lieutenant general looked over at
Koch. “You’re going to have a very tough task ensuring that the proceedings at Camp McCall are secure, but I don’t think you’ll
have too much of a problem, seeing that you command a couple of thousand of the best soldiers in the world.”

Major General Koch nodded.

“I hope that you’re planning on using loaded weapons?”

Koch smiled a weak grin and nodded.

“Good… we don’t want a repeat of what almost happened at Leavenworth. Don’t forget—the press will be allowed in the courtroom.”

Major General Koch’s face went white again. He hadn’t figured that he would have to deal with the press, but James had a constitutional
right to an open trial.

“We can help you out there.” Manning, from the FBI, spoke up. “We’ve issued most of the major press corps clearances and have
a pretty good idea which ones are procommunist and tend to support the radical groups.”

“Thanks.” Koch’s voice was weak.

“Before we close this meeting…” the lieutenant general looked at the psychiatrist, “can you tell us anything about our prime
witness?”

“Well, sir, I know you understand that almost everything that takes place between a patient and his psychiatrist is confidential—”

“I
know
that, Colonel! Is he healthy enough to take the bench at James’s trail, is what I want to know!”

“Yes sir… he’s a very tough young man.”

“I hear that the President is going to present him the Medal of Honor next week.” The lieutenant general’s comment caught
the attention of everyone in the room.

“I hope so.” Lieutenant Colonel Martin let the comment slip out.

“What do you mean?”

“Corporal Barnett has refused to accept the award.” Martin’s voice lowered.

“He’s
refused
our country’s highest award?”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s ridiculous!” The senior officer couldn’t imagine anyone turning down the most coveted award in the military.
Preposterous!

“He has refused even to be fitted for a uniform. I’ve been working with him since he was released from the POW camp in Laos,
and I must say he’s a hardheaded young man.” Martin sighed as if to emphasize his efforts at helping the troubled soldier.

“Well, we can’t allow him to refuse the award!” The lieutenant general hit the conference table with his fist. “Do you know
what that will do to this court-martial? How will it look? Our prime witness refusing his country’s highest award! The defense
will tear us apart!”

The psychiatrist nodded in agreement with the general and then shrugged and added, “I can try talking to him again, sir.”

“Try! You
will
convince him.” The lieutenant general huffed and then added, “What in the hell do you psychiatrists
do?”

Colonel Sinclair smiled and cut in. “General, if you don’t mind… I might be able to help.”

“How?” The senior officer was angry.

“I might be able to persuade this young man to accept the award.”

The lieutenant general looked at Sinclair through the cloud of pipe smoke that divided them, then he looked back at the psychiatrist.
He saw the worry creep into the medical man’s eyes over the suggestion. “Fine… I’ll have a pass waiting for you at the main
desk at Walter Reed. When can you go see him?”

“Right after this meeting?”

“Excellent!” the lieutenant general agreed.

“Sir! I don’t think that’s a very good idea. A stranger visiting Corporal Barnett might upset him too much and give him a
relapse.” The psychiatrist was worried. He wanted to have at least a couple of hours with Barnett before the colonel talked
with him.

“Bullshit! Colonel Sinclair isn’t going to send the boy back to a POW camp! Personally… ” The general pointed at the psychiatrist
with the chewed end of his pipe stem, “I think you damn shrinks do more
damage
to a person than good!”

The psychiatrist’s face turned red.

The senior general sensed that he had hit his target and added, “You stay away from this corporal until Colonel Sinclair has
talked with him.”

“Sir! I’m a medical psychiatrist! You can’t order me away from my patient!” Martin’s professional honor was at stake.

“No… but I am the president of the colonel’s promotion board that goes in session tomorrow....”

Lieutenant Colonel Martin lowered his eyes to the floor. He wasn’t going to screw up his chances for early promotion over
one
soldier. What he failed to realize was that the general had already made up his mind.