by Jack Ford
Wide-eyed, the hostility poured out of Cooper. ‘You got it wrong.’
‘I don’t think so, Coop… Beau and I weren’t going to say anything, not now anyway. Realized you must be pretty sick to do something like this. Thought it was part of your illness, you not being yourself because of your Goddamn addiction. Thought that one day you’d get help… God knows what we thought.’ Woods stopped. Looked Cooper right up, right down and then said, ‘Or maybe it’s just because you hate me. Is that it?’
Cooper glared. Glowered. Shook his head. Rage flicking through him like tremors in an earthquake.
‘I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling right now. But maybe that’s the way it should be because right now, John, I want to kill you, and I’m afraid of what I might do or say.’
‘Then that makes two of us.’
Cooper leapt at John. Clasping him. Grasping him. Shaking him. ‘Are you serious? You’ve just accused me of something I can never forgive you for. Look me in the eye, John, and say it was me. That you know unequivocally it was me who sent you those letters.’
‘Get your hands off me.’
‘Not till you tell me. Come on!’
Woods locked eyes. Locked stares. Blinked. Once. Twice. ‘Then why were your prints there? There isn’t anybody else. The only other…’
Woods stopped dead.
‘The only other what, John?’
‘… Only other print… There was another print. Inconclusive. It wasn’t a complete print, and it’d also been compromised in some way so they ruled it out. It could’ve been Beau’s or mine, they can’t tell.’
‘But you still think it’s me who wrote those letters, even though there’s evidence of someone else’s prints?’
‘What else am I supposed to think, Coop? Put yourself in my position. There is nobody else who knew about Jackson driving the yacht that day, apart from…’
Once again Woods trailed off. Cooper, still holding him tight, said, ‘Apart from? Go on, say it.’
‘There was Ellie.’
Cooper reeled. Directly dropped hold of John’s blue shirt. ‘Ellie? What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Forget it. It’s stupid.’
‘No, John. I want to know why you would say Ellie? You of all people. So determined she drowned that day. Wouldn’t listen to anything else. Both you and Beau. So why would you think even for a split, microscopic, minuscule Goddamn second it might’ve been Ellie!’
‘I don’t know.’
Cooper, hell-bent with rage, pushed Woods against the wall.
‘Yes, you do! You know something.’
‘Not really… Look, last year when I knew Granger was about to apply for Ellie’s death certificate, I wanted to make sure nothing could be dug up or said about Jackson in the documents when the authorities read them to determine the death. I was only protecting him. So I made sure I got to see the records they held first. And it was like we told them – nothing had changed. It was all there. All our statements. The only thing different…’
‘Go on.’
‘The only thing different was the helicopter pilot and what he’d said. He’d contradicted one of the officer’s statements. He said there was actually three skiffs. He saw three. But it doesn’t change a thing. It’s just a technical detail. As hard as it is, Coop, there was no way Ellie was getting out of there alive that day. She couldn’t swim and she was way out in the ocean in the midst of a pirate attack and if drowning, hypothermia or exhaustion didn’t get her, then you can be damn sure the sharks or bullets from the attack did. Face it, Coop, no pirate carried her off. I wish there was, but there is no happy ever after… She’s dead, son. Dead.’
The room span. Legs became weak. A nausea rose as he staggered towards Woods’ en suite bathroom. Holding onto the wall. Holding onto the door.
Then retching.
Vomiting.
Mucus and spit.
Sweet spit and mucus.
Wave upon wave of vomit and bile…
‘Hey, Coop, are you okay? Coop? Open the door.’
Cooper closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself as Woods continued to knock.
Rinsed out his mouth. Threw cold water onto his face. Headed back into the bedroom where Woods stood looking worried.
‘I didn’t know it would affect you like this, Coop. I’m sorry.’
A fast, sharp right hook sent Woods stumbling backwards. Smashing into the expensive coffee table. Hard.
‘You made me think I was crazy. And over time I thought I was. The doctors. The pills. Trying to convince me I was wrong about seeing three skiffs. I tried to get it out of my head. But it wouldn’t go and the more I tried to deny it the bigger it got and the crazier people thought I was. It tortured me, John, and you knew that. You knew how much it haunted me. I lost myself because of it. Because I knew I was right, John, and the guilt of knowing the truth but not doing anything about it has slowly killed me… Do you know how desperate I was that day for Beau to send out more help to try to find the third skiff, and see if she was on it? I begged him. Pleaded with him. But you know what he did? He looked me in the eye then walked away. I was his nephew, John, but I was also a damn good Lieutenant. I knew what I was talking about when I said there were three skiffs. I wasn’t hysterical or irrational. I knew. But instead Beau insisted on believing the officers, who said there were only two skiffs… Do you know how I felt, John? Do you?’
‘No, I don’t.’
Cooper bellowed his words. ‘Liar! Because you saw me that day and saw how afraid I was for her. I loved her. God, how I loved her. All I wanted to do was save her. And all you wanted to do was tell me how I should let her go because it was too late. And over the years I’ve talked about that third skiff, and over the years you’ve talked about how crazy I was. But it’s all been a lie, like everything else. All a Goddamn lie.’
‘No, it’s not like that. I didn’t know till last year.’
‘But you didn’t care to tell me when you’d found out… Does Granger know about this?’
‘No, only Beau and I, and he wanted to tell you but Coop, last year you were in no fit state to deal with this. You were already spinning from the issuing of Ellie’s death certificate. I was only looking out for you.’
Introspectively, Cooper asked, ‘What happened to the report, John? The pilot’s statement?’
Touching his bloody lip, Woods said, ‘I got rid of it.’
Cooper wiped away the tears he hadn’t known were even running. ‘If it wasn’t for Jackson, I’d have a good mind to tell the American people what we did that day. What their President is really like. You know I wish to God it had been me who’d written those letters. All this time I’ve wasted when I should’ve been out there looking for her and now it’s too late… This is your fault, John.’
‘What the hell’s going on? Jesus, Coop are you alright?’
Jackson came into the room with Cora, who ran to Cooper, hugging onto his leg.
‘Come on, honey, Daddy’s got a bad taste in his mouth.’
Jackson looked at Woods and reached out to Cooper as he passed him. ‘Coop, don’t go. Please. What’s going on?’
‘Sorry, I can’t be here right now. I’ll call you later.’
‘Tell me what’s going on.’
Cooper said, ‘I tell you what, why don’t you ask Dad.’
57
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Woods sat opposite Ambassador Shaheen, not feeling at all comfortable with the meeting. Not feeling at all well. And right now he was doing something he swore he’d never do. Because right now his mind was more on his personal life than on his professional one. On Cooper. On the big almighty fight. And no matter how much he tried to shift the focus from what had happened with Coop, to the discussion with the ambassador about the perceived failure of the US to stop NATO intervening, his thoughts were running all over the place like a little league soccer match.
And the sense of allowing his self-control – his self
-discipline and resolve – to collapse, and therefore interfere with him doing the job the American people had entrusted him to do, felt like an overwhelming failure. The idea that he was only human and the idea that any father would feel the same way and the idea that this distraction was temporary just didn’t cut it… Or help.
‘It isn’t a satisfactory position that we found ourselves in, and we certainly want not only answers, but also reassurances.’
Woods was in no mood to try to placate. ‘We gave you answers already, Ambassador. But out of respect for the relationship our two countries have, I thought it was best to partake in this conversation with you. But if I’m really straight here, your view on this occasion is difficult to comprehend. Preferring that NATO and the US Navy, along with the Combined Task Force 150, hadn’t intervened in a search and rescue operation?’
Ambassador Shaheen. Olive skin. Hair boot polish black. Beard groomed into sharp angles. He took a sip of the dark roast coffee, spiced with cardamom. ‘Mr President. Qatar, as always, appreciates the United States’ cooperation, but this isn’t about whether a refugee child was helped, it’s about the security of the country which has been compromised. And besides, I understand the boy died.’
Woods raised his eyebrows at the apparent coldness of Shaheen, before looking across at Lyndon P Clarke and Teddy. Two proud, Afro-American men who sat professionally impassive with their backs towards the Oval Office fireplace. A favorite spot for press photo-call for visiting VIPs.
Noticing the ambassador’s overly large hands, exaggerated by Shaheen’s diminutive stature, Woods said, ‘I wouldn’t say it’s been compromised in any way. They responded to an SOS signal. That’s all.’
‘Is that what you call it? As I understand it, it was a crude signal flashed out with a broken piece of mirror. This isn’t the boy scouts of America, Mr President, this is international relations.’
‘No harm was done, ambassador. It’s hardly the Cuban missile crisis.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. A breach of agreement occurred. They had orders not to intervene, on any account. Even if it’d been the ship’s own crew in distress, there was to be strictly no intervention. And they knew that. I wonder if you’d take such a laid back approach if the situation involved Qataris boarding a US Navy vessel.’
Pushing an image of Cooper out of his head, Woods tried to stifle his exasperated sigh with a cough. Didn’t work. ‘Ambassador, it was NATO, not us.’
‘From where I’m sitting it’s hard to see where one stops and the other one begins.’
Woods took a deep, patient breath. ‘The US allows Qatar to ship around the arms which we’ve sold you without interference. Mainly because of the agreement we made with you, and we continue to give you our blessing. However, that does not mean, Ambassador, that it isn’t open to a Security Council review and a change of policy.’
Ambassador Shaheen gave a strange smile and with a hostile tone, said, ‘Is that so, Mr President? The thing is, Qatar has been a supporter of NATO, and as you know we’re a very active partner of the Alliance. If you think back, we were – apart from the United Arab Emirates – the only Arab state to participate in the NATO-led military operation in Libya. So as you imagine it isn’t NATO we have a problem with. Far from it. It’s America. After all, this international rescue was led by the US, aided by NATO helicopters. Qatar spent billions and billions of dollars last year on buying advanced weapons from the US. We also accommodate the US’s need to have an essential military base in our country. But I feel, under the circumstances, I’ll have no alternative but to get our policies reviewed, and recommend to the Qatari military council that we instigate an extensive and overdue assessment of our weapons deals and imports from the United States, and perhaps look at alternative tenders.’
Annoyance shifted Woods in his chair. Hell, he didn’t appreciate the underlying threat. But not appreciating it wasn’t the same as having to accept it – though that’s what he had to do. Suck it up. Swallow it hard. ‘Ambassador, one thing I wish I could do as President is undo things. Reverse them. But as none of us have that gift, I can only apologize and hope that our countries can move on from here. And I give you my assurances as President that such a situation will never arise again. I hope we’ll continue without prejudice to carve out deals and continue with the special relationship our countries have.’
Shaheen bowed his head. Twice. Woods wasn’t sure if the man was looking down at the crumbs of ginger cookie he had on his lap, or he was doing it out of reverence. Deciding it was more likely to be the former, Woods, assuming the meeting was drawing to a close, reached across to the plate of oatmeal cookies, but stopped. Hand froze in mid-air when he heard the words.
‘Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad.’
Woods said, ‘Excuse me?’
‘Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad. The United States are still holding him prisoner.’
‘Ambassador, this wasn’t on the schedule of discussion.’
‘No, but we have discussed it before, both ourselves, and with Chuck Harrison, and we didn’t come to a satisfactory conclusion. Though I have a feeling your head of CTC sees things in a slightly different light to the position your administration holds.’
‘My acting head of CTC often has a different perspective, but it’s important to be able to see things in other ways. He brings a fresh viewpoint. But ultimately Chuck Harrison, and this administration, have the United States’ best interest at the forefront of their minds. And releasing a terrorist who plotted massive homeland attacks, and was the mastermind behind the bomb attack on an American passenger plane, as well as being affiliated with Al-Qaeda, is not in anyone’s best interest.’
Shaheen sniffed with contempt. ‘In the United States you have a presumption of innocence, so I’m puzzled as to why you’re using the word terrorist when Bin Hamad hasn’t stood trial. Correct me if I’m wrong, but America prides itself on the judicial process, and on democracy. Are you not constantly condemning my neighboring countries in the Middle East for what you see as violations of human rights? Yet to hold a prisoner without due process, and justify this by keeping them off United States soil, as the legal counsel advised the Bush administration they could do back in 2002, is not only hypocrisy, Mr President, and totally goes against international law – which you proclaim to hold in high regard – but it’s also morally wrong. Qatar takes personally that you’re holding one of our nationals without trial in one of your detention centers – which to us are a symbol of torture.’
Just as contemptuous, but with the right amount of politeness, Woods replied. ‘This administration has worked hard to roll back any contentious and provocative interrogation and detention practices. We condemn the use of enhanced interrogation. And as you know, Ambassador, we use military commissions with improved rules to try the detainees. So to say they have no due process is wholly incorrect.’
Scoffing to the point of spraying tiny crumbs from his third cookie over his pristine blue suit, Shaheen said, ‘Mr President, your military commissions do not meet fair trial standards, and I could count on my hand how many of the detainees who were once at Guantánamo, and the detainees where Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad is currently being held, have actually faced any kind of trial. Most are being kept indefinitely without any legal proceedings, which we both know is illegal under the Geneva Convention. And as you know, a lot of the others were recommended for release after a review by the detention center review task force, but are still waiting, many months, many years later, to obtain their freedom. And we, as a proud nation, won’t have a Qatari citizen being held like this. These centers are emblematic of the flagrant abuse of human rights committed by the US government in the name of countering terrorism.’
Woods heard the volume of his voice go up. Brought it down by the diplomatic raise of Teddy’s eyebrows. ‘International laws do not apply to unlawful enemy combatants who are taken to the detention centers. We have evidence Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad is a key member of an offshoot of Al-Qaeda.’
‘Then try him on US soil, Mr President. Qatar could accept that… Or couldn’t you afford to execute such transparency? Are you worried that Bin Hamad would expose things the United States would rather keep away from the public domain? It seems your fight against terror has overridden the responsibility to respect human rights.’
The Ambassador locked eyes on Woods, inviting him to dispute his statement.
Woods said nothing.
Shaheen said, ‘It’s unfortunate you’ve decided that your administration won’t contemplate the release of an innocent man, or even a prisoner transfer. So be it, Mr President. But one way or another, this situation with Bin Hamad will be resolved.’
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With Ambassador Shaheen now gone, Woods turned to look at Teddy and Lyndon.
‘Would it be appropriate to use the word bastard now?’
Lyndon answered, a semi-smile on his face. ‘Mr President, that all depends on who you’re talking about.’
Woods slumped in his chair. Not resisting the call of the cookie. Bit into it.
‘Do I really need to do this? Seriously, is there no other way, because it strikes me that the United States shouldn’t have to do this. Right now it feels like our integrity is being compromised by having to deal with the likes of Shaheen. It’s a joke. Abdul-Aziz bin Hamad is as guilty as sin. Shaheen needs to take his head out of his ass and stop making Qatar out as the playground for nymphs from the fountain of the innocents.’
Teddy said, ‘Run that again.’
‘You know what I mean. He makes out that Qatar is naïve to terror groups. I mean two of Al-Qaeda’s most senior financiers are living with impunity in Qatar in spite of being on a worldwide terrorism blacklist.’
‘I guess that’s why they call it the Club Med for Terrorists.’
Woods nodded contemplatively. ‘But of course their stance is Qatar has never supported, and will never support, terrorist organizations. And publicly we’ve rebuked them multiple times over their refusal to take a tougher approach against terrorist financing. And our financial sanctions and embargos are ineffective. But then what do we do? Do we push towards tougher sanctions? No. Like hell we do. Instead what we do is to continue to sell them weapons, knowing what we know and knowing more than likely those arms will be channelled along with cash to violent organizations. And then there’s the small matter of the base we have there. It’s one of the most important, if not the key military base for the region. Like I say, it’s a Goddamn joke. Don’t you guys hate how we play this game? They serve a rogue ball and all we do is hit it back over the net. Over and over again.’