“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“And what does that job entail?”
“I’m the chief in-house adviser to the president on national security issues. I also participate in meetings of the National Security Council, as well as committee meetings with the secretary of state and the secretary of defense.”
“And how often do you meet with the president?”
“At least once a day—almost every morning to brief him on national security issues and offer my advice. However, it may be more often; for instance, during times of crisis, I keep him updated on important developments as they occur.”
“You mentioned that you attend meetings with the secretaries of state and defense,” Karp said. “Do you also confer regularly with U.S. intelligence agencies, such as the CIA and Federal Bureau of Investigation?”
“Yes, those and others. It’s part of my job to assimilate the information these various groups provide, put it together as an overview, and present it to the president.”
“So it’s fair to say you have your finger on the pulse of those issues that affect the security of the United States and its citizens?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Karp strolled over toward the defense table, where Constantine looked bored while his attorney jotted down notes on a legal pad. Looking down at the accused billionaire, Karp asked, “Do you know the defendant, Wellington Constantine?”
Hamm looked up at the ceiling as if she couldn’t believe she had to endure such vapid questions. “Of course I know Mr. Constantine,” she said, “and consider him a friend, as does the president, I might add.”
“And how do you know the defendant?”
“Oh, come on, Karp,” Hamm said tersely.
Karp looked at Dermondy. “Your Honor, would you direct the witness to just answer my questions, please.”
The judge looked at Hamm and raised an eyebrow. She sighed.
“I believe I met Mr. Constantine during the president’s first presidential campaign.”
“In fact, he’s been a major contributor to both of the president’s campaigns, isn’t that true?”
“Objection,” Arnold said, rising to his feet. “Your Honor, what is the relevance of this line of questioning? Mr. Constantine’s relationship to Ms. Hamm and the president isn’t on trial here.”
“Mr. Karp?” Dermondy asked.
Karp crossed his arms and walked back over to the jury box, where he leaned against the rail. “Subject to connection, Your Honor. The rebuttal case will reflect the linkage among what I’m asking Ms. Hamm, the testimony of Mr. Jaxon, and the defendant’s substantial financial influence at the highest echelons of the executive branch of the U.S. government. And the chain reaction that influence has on the sale of black-market oil, collusion with rogue governments, the arming of terrorists, subterfuge meant to dupe the American public, and the murder of the victim in this case, Colonel Michael Swindells.”
As he spoke, Karp glanced at Hamm and saw her face tighten. Surprised her with what we know, he thought. That’s what arrogance will do for you.
Dermondy nodded. “I’ll overrule the objection, subject to connection. The witness will answer the question.”
Hamm shot the judge a hard look. She shook her head but answered. “Yes, he, like many other people and organizations in this great country, believed in the president and contributed to his first and second election campaigns.”
“And, in fact,” Karp pointed out, “contributed the maximum amount allowed by individuals, is that true?”
“I believe that’s true . . . as did many other people,” Hamm said. “He’s a wealthy man, and I believe he supports many candidates who share his views.”
“The maximum personal contribution is twenty-five hundred dollars, barely a drop in the bucket for a man whose net worth according to Wealth magazine makes him one of the richest men in the world.”
“I wouldn’t know Mr. Constantine’s net worth. But his contribution was what the law allowed.”
“But that’s just the personal contribution,” Karp said. “There are other ways to contribute to political campaigns and causes, aren’t there? Such as the so-called Super PACs that allow well-heeled special-interest groups, corporations, and unions to contribute millions of dollars to candidates and causes, correct?”
“It is all within the law, Mr. Karp.”
“It is,” Karp agreed. “But nevertheless, it allows an individual, such as the defendant, to contribute millions of dollars through these political action committees.”
“It allows people associated with these committees to support candidates and causes they believe in. Campaigns are expensive these days.”
“Indeed they are,” Karp replied. “I believe the current president’s last campaign spent more than seven hundred million dollars.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“No?” Karp responded rhetorically. “And these millions of dollars that go into campaigns are intended to buy influence, are they not?”
“Your term ‘buy influence’ has a negative connotation that I suggest resides more in your mind than in reality. As I said, these committees use the money to support candidates and causes they agree with, and it’s not illegal.”
“No, but would you agree that attempting to buy or sell political influence is immoral?”
“OBJECTION!” Arnold shouted. “The prosecutor is making political speeches.”
“I’ll withdraw the question,” Karp responded. “Would it surprise you to know that the defendant is nearly the sole source of money for the Super PAC known as Americans for Change and Progress, which contributed nearly eighty-five million dollars to your employer’s last campaign?”
“I know AFCP contributed to the campaign, as well as to other campaigns and causes. I don’t know the amount. I have no idea what Mr. Constantine does with his money,” Hamm replied. “I know that he is a big contributor to the president’s party, as well as many candidates, and that AFCP is a well-funded Super PAC. But I’m a foreign policy wonk, Mr. Karp; I don’t get involved in politics and wasn’t expecting to debate campaign finance reform today.”
“A foreign policy wonk,” Karp repeated. “Still, you’re aware that the defendant is, as you said, a big contributor. Would you say he spends millions of dollars to buy influence with the president?”
“OBJECTION!” Arnold shouted.
“Sustained,” Dermondy said. “You’ve made your point. Move on, please.”
Karp nodded. “Ms. Hamm, are you aware of whether the defendant attends White House social functions, such as state dinners?”
“Yes. I have seen him at such events on occasion. It’s not unusual for business leaders, as well as politicians, and even entertainers, to attend these functions.”
“And are you aware if the defendant ever meets privately with the president?”
“Again, as I pointed out before, the president considers Mr. Constantine a personal friend. He also welcomes his advice on the economy as an astute and successful businessman.”
“Would this include foreign business ventures?”
“Quite possibly. Mr. Constantine’s company, Well-Con Industries, has interests and facilities all over the world.”
“Including oil refineries in the Middle East?”
“I believe that’s true.”
“Including Iraq.”
Hamm frowned. “If I remember correctly, his assets in Iraq are in the hands of the terrorist organization Islamic State of Iraq and Syria, or ISIS. Some of those facilities are now destroyed to prevent ISIS from refining or transporting oil due to coordinated U.S., Syrian, and Russian air strikes, which are a testament to the president’s persuasive diplomacy.”
“And how do we know these facilities have been destroyed?” Karp asked.
“We have satellite and m
ilitary surveillance imagery, as well as assets on the ground who report on the damage.”
“And some of these strikes have been directed at Well-Con assets?”
“Yes, unfortunately for Mr. Constantine.”
“Was he told of these impending strikes?”
“As a courtesy, yes.”
“And he approved?”
Hamm smiled over at Constantine, who smiled back. “I don’t know if he approved, but he certainly understood the necessity and, I must say, has been asked to accept an enormous financial blow on behalf of national security.”
“Does the defendant regularly discuss national security issues with you or the president?”
“Of course not,” Hamm scoffed. “We may ask him a question about the political or business situation in a part of the world where he has assets, including people on the ground. But he is not privy to discussions and decisions regarding national security issues.”
Karp walked over to the evidence table and picked up a sheet of paper in a plastic sleeve. “Ms. Hamm, I am handing you People’s Exhibit 38, a single page from a journal kept by the defendant.”
Hamm accepted the exhibit and studied it. She shot the defendant a look, then turned to Karp. “I’ve read it.”
“What do you believe the defendant meant by the statement ‘MIRAGE is moving forward at last’?”
“I believe he’s referring to the air strikes on his facilities. The program is called Operation MIRAGE.”
“Why is it called MIRAGE?”
“Because it’s in the desert, Mr. Karp, and seemed to fit.”
“What about the statement ‘All the players have been replaced. Just movable pieces’?”
“I have no idea what he meant by that. An editorial comment, perhaps?”
“And the statement ‘The refineries are back at full capacity and deliveries are being made’?”
“Mr. Constantine had been informed that ISIS, either through forced participation or their own experts, were running his refineries at full capacity until destroyed by the air strikes.”
“He doesn’t say anything about the facilities being destroyed. Just that MIRAGE is moving forward at last. Wouldn’t he have noted that?”
“I don’t know the date of that journal entry,” Hamm said. “Perhaps he had not yet been informed about the destruction caused by the air strikes. But really, Mr. Karp, I have no idea what Mr. Constantine chose to include in his journal.”
“The air strikes that were confirmed by satellite and military surveillance imagery?”
“Yes, that’s right. As well as people on the ground reporting in.”
“Do you know who ISIS was selling this black-market oil to?”
“We have reason to believe they were selling the oil to Iran and North Korea.”
“Which U.S. oil companies are not allowed to do business with because of economic sanctions, correct?”
“That’s correct, which is why they’d been happy to deal with ISIS.”
“Ms. Hamm, in the defendant’s journal, he also wrote, ‘One problem has been eliminated but another remains. She’s the weak link and has to go.’ Any idea what he meant by that?”
Hamm frowned and shook her head. “I’m not sure. I know there were some high-level meetings with executives from other oil companies that stood to lose their Iraqi assets during Operation MIRAGE. They weren’t happy about it, and the president asked Mr. Constantine to attempt to persuade them of the national interest in this matter. I think these meetings were sometimes rancorous.”
“Can you provide us with the names of these other oil company executives, so that we can interview them and possibly bring them to court to testify about these matters?”
Hamm’s face went blank. “Not offhand. I wasn’t present at that particular discussion. I believe it was between the president and Mr. Constantine.”
“And so you, the national security adviser, weren’t privy to the details.”
“Only that it existed as an issue. I have a lot on my plate as the NSA, and the president is quite capable of handling his own business.”
Karp walked over in front of the witness stand and looked directly at Hamm. “Is it your testimony today that Operation MIRAGE was the name given to U.S., Russian, and Syrian air strikes against oil refineries and other affiliated assets controlled by ISIS?”
“Yes.”
“You’re saying that it’s not a conspiracy among the defendant, the administration, and the representatives of foreign governments to protect his oil assets in Iraq, as well as sell oil on the black market, while in fact supporting ISIS?”
Hamm’s face scrunched into a sneer. “Absolutely not, Mr. Karp! What piece of fiction have you been reading in your little right-wing rags?”
Karp didn’t respond except to change the direction of his questions. “Do you know a woman named Ajmaani?”
A small twitch registered on Hamm’s face, but she shook her head. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“How about Nadya Malovo?”
“No. Should I?”
Karp nodded to Fulton, who was seated at the prosecution table. The big detective got up and walked over to the door leading from the witness rooms. He opened the door and said something to someone on the other side. He then stepped back as Nadya Malovo entered the courtroom and stopped.
“Do you recognize this woman?”
Hamm glanced at Malovo and shook her head. “I don’t believe . . . no, I’ve never seen her before that I can recall. I do meet a lot of people.”
“A little over a year ago, did you have occasion to be in Istanbul, Turkey?”
Acting as though she had to think about it, Hamm hesitated. Then she nodded. “Yes, I believe I was there attending a NATO meeting.”
“Did you also meet with the representative of a man named Ivan Nikitin?”
“I’m not familiar with that name.”
“He is, or was, a general in the Russian army and a gangster with ties to the Kremlin.”
Hamm looked bemused. “I’d have no reason to meet with someone representing such a person.”
Karp walked over to the prosecution table, where Katz handed him a photograph. He returned to the witness stand and handed it to Hamm. She looked down and was visibly shaken.
“I’ve handed you People’s Exhibit 75 marked for identification. Do you recognize the two women in the photograph?” Karp asked.
With her hands shaking, Hamm didn’t answer. “Do you recognize the two women in the photograph?” he asked again.
“This is an outrage,” Hamm hissed. “A setup.”
“Whatever you want to call it,” Karp said, “would you please tell the jury if you recognize anyone in this photograph?”
“I was sitting at a sidewalk café in Istanbul when a woman I didn’t know came up and sat down at my table . . .” Hamm tried.
“Would you just answer the question,” Karp said.
“I’m trying to explain how this happ—”
“Your Honor,” Karp said, looking at Dermondy.
The judge leaned across his dais. “Ms. Hamm, I direct you to answer the district attorney’s questions directly, as I previously admonished you.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Hamm answered meekly. “I’m in the photograph. I don’t know the other woman.”
“You don’t know the identity of the woman?” Karp said. He pointed at Malovo. “Does that woman refresh your recollection?”
Arnold shot to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor! This is improper examination!”
Karp held out his hands. “Your Honor, any first-year law student knows that you can use a shoe to refresh someone’s recollection. I can assure you, this woman’s presence is much more meaningful than a shoe.”
“Overruled. Ms. Hamm, answer the question.”
Hamm looked again at Malovo. “I suppose it could be her.”
Karp’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not in some back room at the White House; it’s just you and me, the judge, and the jury now, and you’re under oath,” he said, allowing his voice to rise. “Tell us about your meeting with a woman you know as Ajmaani, also known as Nadya Malovo. That woman,” he said, pointing again, “standing right there!”
“I don’t know this woman,” Hamm protested. “She could be the woman in the photograph, but like I said, she came over and sat down, then left.”
“And this same woman just happens to be standing in this courtroom?”
“It’s obviously a setup, Karp! A cheap setup by you and your cronies to attack me and this administration, as well as an innocent businessman, Mr. Constantine, because he supports the president. Well, you won’t win this one, Karp!”
Karp listened to her tirade with his arms folded over his chest. When she finished, he shook his head. “The sad thing is, no one will win this one, particularly the American people.”
He looked at the jury as he asked his next question. “Ms. Hamm, did you attend the theater production of Hamilton last night on Broadway?”
“It was in all the newspapers, Karp,” she replied.
“And did you have the opportunity at the end of the play to go backstage?”
Hamm frowned. “I was invited by the director to meet the cast.”
“The cast?” Karp replied, raising an eyebrow. “Who else did you meet other than the cast?”
Hamm’s eyes shot to Malovo. She’s counting on the little deal they made last night, Karp thought.
“I met a lot of people,” Hamm replied. “There were a lot of people backstage.”
“Did you meet with Ajmaani, aka Nadya Malovo?”
“Not that I recall.”
“You don’t recall meeting with her and instructing her not to cooperate as a witness for the People?”
“I certainly did nothing of the kind,” Hamm scoffed. “You ought to write thrillers, Karp. You have quite the imagination.”
“You didn’t discuss the MIRAGE files?”
“More fiction.”
“Or the complicity of your office and the administration in protecting the oil interests of the defendant, as well as the sale of black-market oil produced and controlled by ISIS?”
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