by John Bowers
A general shuffle filled the room as everyone got to their feet. Moore, seemingly oblivious, fell into his chair and wobbled briefly until his body achieved stability, then reached for the gavel and banged it once.
“Be seated.”
Nick settled back into his chair and rested his chin in his palm. Another day of bullshit.
Moore shuffled some papers as if searching for a pastry, then peered at Godney.
“Mr. Godney, are you ready to proceed?”
“Ready, your Honor.”
“Call your next witness.”
Godney opened his mouth to speak, but Victoria Cross shot to her feet.
“If it please the Court…”
Moore peered at her in surprise, his piggish eyes scanning her frame.
“Yes, Miss Cross?”
“Before we begin, your Honor, I beg the Court’s indulgence.”
“What is it?”
Victoria glanced at Godney, whose surprise was stamped across his features, then plunged ahead.
“I would like to inform the Court that I am withdrawing from this case.”
Silence deafened the courtroom for three or four seconds.
“What?” Godney gasped.
“Excuse me, Miss Cross,” Moore said, “but that is between you and the U.F. Attorney’s office. You don’t need to inform me if you want to quit.”
“You can’t do that!” Godney roared, his face swelling purple. He spun toward the bench. “Your Honor, may I have a moment?”
Moore burped into his fist.
“Only a moment, counselor.”
Godney dashed around the table to confront Victoria Cross. He spoke in a harsh whisper that carried halfway to the outer door.
“What the fuck are you doing!” he demanded. “You can’t quit! Fraites assigned you as co-counsel! I can have you fired!”
Victoria glared at him, then turned again to face Judge Moore.
“Your Honor, I am resigning my position as Assistant United Federation Attorney, effective instantly.”
The buzz leaped to life as people gasped and exclaimed. Moore banged his gavel.
“Quiet in the courtroom, please.” He leaned forward. “Miss Cross, as I said, this is between you and your office. You don’t need to make a public resignation.”
“If it please the Court…” She turned and gazed at the defense table. “As of this moment I am a private attorney. I would like to offer my services to the defendant, if he’ll have me. Pro bono.”
The buzz exploded into a roar. Judge Moore’s gavel hammered repeatedly but couldn’t stop it. Nick stared at the blond attorney in shock, his mouth hanging half open. Victoria Cross his attorney? What the hell had prompted this?
Geraldine Gabbard looked equally shocked. She stared at him with open questions in her eyes. He merely shrugged.
The gavel finally brought quiet, but only after the spectators got it out of their system. They quieted down again, eager for more.
“Miss Cross…” Judge Moore looked as shocked as anyone else. “Miss Cross, are you sure about this?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“Your Honor!” Godney was waving his arms. “Your Honor, I object! She can’t just quit on me like that! She prepared half my case!”
Moore tried to hide his grin but wasn’t entirely successful.
“You object? This is not a point of law, counselor. She’s a free woman. According to the Constitution, she can do whatever she wants.”
Godney spun around. He glared at Victoria, then glared at Fraites. He turned and glared at the judge.
“I object! This is most irregular! Your Honor, can’t you do something?”
“Like what? You want me to arrest her? For quitting her job?”
“Well, no, of course not, but—can’t you hold her in contempt or something?”
Moore leaned forward again. “No, Mr. Godney, I can’t. ‘Contempt’ implies contempt of Court, not contempt of co-counsel.” He peered at Victoria again. “Once again, Miss Cross—are you sure about this?”
“Yes, your Honor. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
“Marshal Walker, do you accept Miss Cross as your attorney? Have you discussed this yet?”
Uncertain of the protocol, Nick stood up.
“No, sir, this is news to me.”
“Are you unhappy with your current counsel?”
“No, sir. I’m neither happy nor unhappy.”
Moore sat back, a perplexed look on his face.
“All right. As Mr. Godney said, this is highly irregular, but we apparently have a dilemma here. I have some datawork I could be doing, so I’m going to grant a recess for one hour while you fine folks hammer this thing out.
“Marshal Walker, I suggest you meet with Miss Cross and Ms. Gabbard and decide what you want to do. Mr. Godney…maybe you want to talk to your boss and see if new co-counsel can be assigned. One way or another, in one hour from now, we are going to proceed, so figure it out.”
He banged the gavel.
“Court is in recess.”
***
Across the hall from the courtrooms were half a dozen conference rooms where lawyers and clients could consult. Victoria Cross led the way into the nearest one and closed the door when Nick and Gabbard were inside. She pulled the blinds over the window and turned, her expression grim. Nick stood by the rear wall, confused and off balance. Geraldine Gabbard tossed her briefcase onto the table and spun around with an angry expression.
“All right, what the hell is this about?” she demanded. “Are you trying to hijack my client?”
Victoria regarded her with an open gaze.
“I’m offering my services,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“And what makes you think he needs your services?”
“You heard Godney in there. I prepared half his case. I know it inside and out. I know what he’s planning and what he’s after.”
“So do I. I have discovery.”
“Pardon me for saying so, but your discovery is shit. This is not a criminal case, at least not yet. Godney is on a personal crusade, and I think I am better qualified to fight him than you are.”
Gabbard smirked. “I’ve faced Godney before. He’s an egotistical wimp. He makes an ass of himself every time he litigates.”
“He also knows the law as well as anyone in this building, and better than most. Don’t sell him short, Ms. Gabbard. He may be a prick, but he’s a very sharp prick, and he can really hurt your client.”
“You think you can beat him?”
“I think I have a better chance than you do. I work with him. I know his fears and his phobias, and I know what makes him tick.”
Victoria glanced at Nick, who hadn’t said a word.
“Brian Godney is five feet four inches tall, and he hates men who are one inch taller than he is. It’s pathological with him, and a man like Nick, who actually does something productive with his life, is a clear target. That’s what you’re fighting here. It isn’t about the law, or Nick’s gunnery scores—it’s about dick size and nothing else.”
Gabbard stood there a moment, staring at her. Finally she heaved a sigh and turned to Nick.
“What do you want to do, Marshal Walker? Am I fired?”
Nick’s eyes flickered from one woman to the other, then he shook his head.
“No…”
Victoria’s mouth fell open; Gabbard smiled.
“Not yet.”
“I don’t understand—”
“I’d like a few minutes alone with Miss Cross, if you don’t mind.”
Gabbard looked flustered, but nodded.
“Okay. I’ll wait in the hall. Remember, we only have an hour to decide. Chubs Moore…I mean, Judge Moore…won’t accept anything less than a decision.”
She stepped into the hallway and closed the door. Nick stood facing Victoria Cross, acutely aware of her contoured body, her perfect hair, and her faint but distinctive perfume. She stood evenly on bo
th feet, facing him as if squaring off for a martial arts contest.
“What’re you doing, Vic?”
“What do you mean?”
“You quit your job? To defend me?”
“It’s not that simple.”
He pulled out a chair and sat down.
“When I first met you back in boot camp, all you wanted was to be an attorney. You told me then your ambition was to be a U.F. Attorney.”
Her eyes softened slightly.
“And I have been, for nearly seven years.”
“You’re going to throw that away?”
“I’m not throwing anything away. I’m still an attorney. Actually I can make a lot more money without the fancy title.”
Nick stared at her a moment, his thoughts churning.
“I hope you don’t have any other motives here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.”
She blinked, but shook her head.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I believe in justice, Nick, just like you do. I’ve always tried to fight for the good guys, but this case is a travesty.”
“How do you know? How do you know Godney isn’t right about me?”
She laughed in consternation.
“Are you kidding? I know Godney, for one thing. And I know you.”
“You did know me, but that was a long time ago. Maybe I changed.”
“Maybe we both changed, but I’m not an idiot. I followed the war on the ground while you were fighting. I kept track of the 33rd Star Marines, and Echo Company in particular.”
“You did? Why?”
“Because I still cared about you. We were over, but I wanted you to come home safe and sound.” She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “I also read the after-action reports for Trimmer Springs.”
“How did you get those?”
“I was in the JAG’s office, remember? I had access.”
He stood silent.
“I lost track of you after that, but a few years later I was working for the U.F. Attorney when reports started coming in from Ceres. Suddenly, there you were again. Fighting for justice.”
“You make it sound like a holo-vid.”
“No holo-vid could be more dramatic than the truth. Not in that case. And later, when you were on Sirius, I read the reports again, and all the reports since then. Nick, I know everything you’ve done since you started wearing a badge. And maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but you made me proud!”
He stared at her and saw sincerity in her blue eyes. He felt an unexpected lump in his throat.
“And now…” She waved her hand. “…a wimp like Brian Godney dares to accuse you of being a monster? Fuck him! I can’t be a part of that. Let me defend you, Nick. I’ll beat that little bastard! I swear I will.”
“What do I tell Ms. Gabbard? She’s doing a really good job in there.”
“She’ll get paid. The U.F. Marshal is footing the bill for your defense, so she’s covered. But I’ll do it for nothing. I’ll save the taxpayers a lot of money.”
“Maybe you should work together. You could be co-counsel.”
“I don’t work well with others. I’m better alone.”
“But you don’t know her defense strategy. You’ll need time to prepare.”
“I know the prosecution’s strategy, and that’s a lot more important. You can fill me in on the other details as we go.”
He studied her thoughtfully.
“Can you really win?”
“Yes. Nick, this is bigger than you losing your job. Brian is hoping to dig up something he can use to justify criminal charges. He doesn’t just want you fired, he wants to put you away.”
Nick frowned.
“But why? What did I ever do to him?”
“Nothing. You’re just a high-profile target. He has some twisted sense of morality and he loves to pop big bubbles. It makes no sense, but he has a lot of power and he loves to wield it.”
Nick nodded, thinking.
“So what’s your decision?” Victoria glanced at her watch. “We’ve got twenty minutes left.”
“I have to tell you the truth, Vic—I don’t know what to make of all this. I was a lot more comfortable when you were at the other table.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted.
“Why would you say that?”
“I have to be honest here…I’m not entirely sure I can trust you.”
He saw pain in her eyes. “You mean…because of—”
“Yes. Maybe I was young and stupid, or naïve, or whatever, but I trusted you. I handed you my heart, and it came back in pieces.”
“I never meant to hurt you…”
“That doesn’t change anything.”
She blinked rapidly for a second to clear the mist from her eyes, then her expression hardened.
“Then let me make it up to you.”
“You can’t.” He laughed, short and bitter. “Nothing you do or say can ever make it up to me. What happened can’t be undone.”
“I’m not trying to change the past,” she told him. “You’re right, what’s done is done, but I can’t just stand by and watch you burn. This is a witch hunt, and it offends every cell in my body. If you won’t let me do it for you, then let me do it for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve just quit my job and I can’t go back. I need to establish a new career, starting today. This is a high-profile case, lots of publicity, and if I win, then I’m off to a great start. This case will make my career right out the gate.”
“I don’t know…”
“You owe me, Nick.”
“What? What do I owe you?”
“A favor to be named later, remember? I was your buddy in boot camp, and those were my terms. You agreed to them.”
He stared at her another moment. What the hell, it was only his entire future at stake. He spread his hands in surrender.
“Let’s go talk to Ms. Gabbard.”
Twelve Years Earlier
Sunday, May 1, 0433 (CC)
Camp Pendleton, SoCal – North America, Terra
The first six weeks had been the hardest, but the ten weeks that followed were no picnic either.
In the beginning the emphasis was on physical training. Toughening up, gaining strength and stamina; learning how to march, obey orders, and take abuse, no matter how undeserved. The name of the game was discipline, both from within and without. No army in history had ever survived, no war ever won, without discipline. The recruit (“boot” in Star Marine lingo) had to be stripped of ego, false pride, and individuality. He or she had to be hammered into the basic elements of flesh, blood, bone, and nothing else. No ideas, no opinions, no willpower, just the fundamental components from which a human being is made. Once reduced to that elemental denominator, boot camp now began to construct a new being, a new entity—not an individual but a pack animal, a killing animal, a predator. The predator did not act on its own, but under orders.
Discipline from without.
And if orders were not available, the predator had to know what to do anyway, what was expected. No longer did it think like a human being with a will, with morals, with a conscience—it had to think like a Star Marine…and act accordingly.
Discipline from within.
None of this was readily apparent to the boots; it took place gradually, was obtained through great personal sacrifice and suffering, and from that growth emerged pride. Pride of service, pride of self, and supreme confidence in one’s own ability not only to survive, but to get the job done.
Victoria Cross “survived the beach”, as the Star Marines called it, the thinning-out period where one was most vulnerable to taking the Long Walk of Shame. By the seventh week of boot camp her body had responded as it was expected to. She had dropped twelve pounds, her body fat slimmed from twenty-four to nineteen percent, her muscles were firm and toned, and her lung capacity had doubled. She could run ten miles in sixty-four mi
nutes without a pack and seventy-two minutes with a fully loaded one. She narrowly missed the pushup record for female Star Marines, and when it came to personal combat, she could take on any man in her platoon (she usually got her ass kicked, as they were all bigger and heavier, but they knew they had been in a fight).
The best part…she had never felt better in her life. She could get by on five hours of sleep a night, wasn’t afraid of anyone, and was reasonably certain she would live forever.
Then the real fun began.
The last ten weeks of boot camp were a steady swirl of events—rifle training, bayonet training, heavy weapons, martial arts. She learned to crawl two hundred meters at night under heavy machine gun fire, in the mud; she threw grenades, both explosive and plasma; she jumped out of airplanes without a parachute, relying on the parasail webbing in her clothing to get her down safely; she dove two hundred feet without tanks or snorkel, attached a light explosive charge to a dummy submarine, and made her escape before the clock ran out. She learned to crawl under enemy tanks to avoid getting shot in a live-fire exercise, then went into orbit and learned to evacuate from a burning space capsule as it depressurized.
All before she was nineteen years old.
All so she could go to law school.
And her “buddy”, Nick Walker, did it all with her. They became inseparable.
***
Two weeks remained until graduation. Victoria was looking forward to that momentous event with mixed emotions—the sixteen-week nightmare would be over, and she could proceed on to law school, but she had to admit she was going to miss it. In spite of all the fear, the pain, the lack of sleep—in spite of the privately-shed tears—Victoria Cross had to admit that she had never felt more alive in her entire life. She sure as hell didn’t want to go through it again, any of it, but she wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.
The future lay wide open ahead of her. She was young and confident, physically and mentally stronger than she ever would be again, and she felt a soaring sense of pride. But there was something else, something she didn’t want to admit even to herself.
She would miss Nick Walker. She was heading to law school, he would move on to Advanced Infantry training at Luna Base 1, and the odds were good that they would never meet again. The thought made her sad—Nick had helped her get through it all, had actually saved her from washing out—but there was nothing either of them could do about it.