Hostage

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Hostage Page 31

by Don Brown


  "Meaning?"

  "He'd fired the missile."

  "And then what?"

  "Then I screamed at him. And I said, 'Mouse, are you crazy? What in the heck are you doing?' "

  "And what did he say?"

  "Objection." Zack stormed to his feet. "What a dead man said is hearsay."

  "Mr. la Trec? Your response?"

  "First, Your Honor, there's no evidence that Lieutenant Price is dead. He may be hidden in seclusion by the Israelis, for all we know. But at any rate, we would submit that his out-of-court statement is not hearsay because it goes to Lieutenant Price's state of mind. Also, under the circumstances, we believe it would fall within the excited utterance exception to the hearsay rule."

  Norgaard scratched his chin. "The objection is overruled. You may answer the question."

  "I forgot the question."

  "What did Mouse say when you screamed at him and told him he was crazy?"

  "He said that Captain Constangy had ordered him to fire the missile."

  A roar of mumbling voices broke out in the back of the courtroom.

  "Order! Order in the court!" Two whaps from Judge Norgaard's gavel. "Order!"

  "Captain Constangy ordered Mouse to do it? Is that your testimony?"

  "Yes, and Mouse said that the captain had ordered Lieutenant Price to fire a missile too."

  More commotion. More rumbling.

  "Order! Order!"

  "What happened next?"

  "I looked down from the cockpit, and we were passing over the Old City. The Dome was smoldering."

  "And then what?"

  "I kept yelling, 'Why did you do that, Mouse?' And he kept saying something about top-secret orders from the skipper."

  "Top-secret orders from the skipper?"

  "Right."

  "And then what?"

  "There was chaos in the cockpit. I kept thinking, We're gonna get shot down, we're gonna get shot down! I knew the Israelis would be scrambling their F-15s, and the only thing I could think of was that we were no match for the whole Israeli Air Force. I couldn't risk cutting west back across Israel to make a run for the Med. So I set a course for Syria."

  "And you bailed out over Syria?"

  "Yes, we both bailed out. Hosni and I were rescued. Unfortunately, Mouse and Pip are still out there." Quasay's voice trembled as if he were about to cry. He held his head low and wiped his eyes. "I pray to Allah every day they are still alive."

  "I know, Commander," la Trec said in a consoling tone. "It is hard to lose those we care for."

  "I am sorry," Quasay said, his eyes glistening as he looked at the members and then back to la Trec. "Could I have some water?"

  "May I approach the witness, Your Honor?" la Trec pleaded.

  "You may."

  La Trec poured a cup of water from a pitcher on the defense table and brought it to the witness stand. Quasay drank as if he were suffering from dehydration in a desert. "Thank you."

  "Commander, you're Muslim, correct?"

  "Yes, sir. Devout."

  "And you received a Muslim education growing up?"

  "Yes, I attended The School of the Holy Prophet, located on the outskirts of Dearborn, Michigan."

  "And you attended college, partially at least, on a Muslim scholarship?"

  "Yes, with the help of the Muslim Educational Foundation."

  "As a Muslim, what does the Dome of the Rock mean to you?"

  Quasay took a deep breath, as if the very question was causing him anguish. Then he took another drink of water. "It is holy ground to the Muslim, sir. It is where the prophet -- peace be upon him -- ascended to Allah at the end of his night journey. Its destruction pains me personally. I would give my life to bring it back. How I wish I could give my life to bring it back."

  "Thank you, Commander. No further questions."

  "This court will be in recess."

  "All rise."

  CHAPTER 60

  Courtroom 4

  Israeli District Court

  West Bank Division

  Court had been in recess for about fifteen minutes, with Judge Norgaard off the bench for a prolonged break. Several members of the international press had tried approaching the counsel table for interviews with Zack.

  But thanks to beefed-up security in the aftermath of the shoe bombing, Israeli police and U.S. Marines now formed a human barricade across the courtroom, just behind counsel table, denying even the press direct access to the JAG officers.

  Zack could hear their shouts of "Lieutenant Commander Brewer!" over the tops of the marines' heads. But in the precious few minutes he had before commencement of cross-examination, Zack tried, albeit with some difficulty, to tune out their yapping. Instead, he studied Shannon McGillvery's report, cross-referencing pages and making notes on his legal pad.

  "Anything I can do to help?" Wendy looked over his shoulder at the report.

  She looked worried, undoubtedly thinking -- as he did -- that the defense had scored points with Quasay's performance. At this point, there was probably reasonable doubt. Zack would have to dent the defendant's credibility on cross-examination, or these terrorists might walk.

  "As a matter of a fact, yes. Why don't you throw these dogs a few innocuous bones" -- he nodded to the press corps -- "just to shut them up for a few minutes."

  "What should I tell them?"

  "Tell them the trial is going well, and we don't believe the defendant is telling the truth. Then smile and tell them the same thing again three or four times. By then Judge Norgaard should be back, and I can get through this report."

  "Got it."

  That quieted the vultures for a few minutes, allowing Zack to push through the fifteen-page, single-spaced NCIS report.

  "All rise."

  Zack turned around and gave Shannon McGillvery a wink and a thumbs-up.

  "This court is back in session."

  Shannon reciprocated.

  "Please be seated. Lieutenant Commander Brewer, does the government have questions on cross-examination?"

  "We do, Your Honor."

  "Very well. You may proceed."

  "Good afternoon, Commander Quasay."

  "Good afternoon, Commander."

  "Isn't it true, based upon the weapons configuration in the F-18, that either the pilot or the flight officer has the capability to launch a Maverick missile?"

  "That's true, but it wasn't me that launched that missile."

  "But that wasn't my question, Commander." Zack wagged his index finger. "My question was that you as the commander of that aircraft could have launched that missile attack, with or without the consent or assistance of Lieutenant Price. Correct?"

  After a moment of disgruntled silence, he said, "Correct."

  "And as the commander of that aircraft, you could have set it down anywhere you wished, correct?"

  "Yes, that was my prerogative."

  "And you chose, voluntarily, to cross into Syrian airspace rather than trying to set her down in Israel."

  "As I said, I was afraid we would get shot down in Israel."

  "You didn't detect the presence of any Israeli fighters in the immediate vicinity, did you?"

  "No, but an F-15 has supersonic capabilities."

  "But you could have gone on the radio and declared an emergency, correct?"

  "Of course. Any pilot can do that."

  "And under the international rules of aviation, a pilot declaring an emergency has priority rights for landing at any airstrip, correct?"

  "Correct."

  "And you could have put your plane down, in Israel, within five minutes, if you had declared an emergency."

  "Maybe, if we didn't get shot down first."

  "You mean shot down by fighters that were not in the area?"

  "Objection. Argumentative."

  "Sustained."

  "The navy has spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on your flight training, correct?"

  "Correct."

  "You've logged hundreds of hour
s in the cockpit of a jet fighter, correct?"

  "Correct."

  "You're required to be fully familiar with the international rules of aviation, correct?"

  "Correct."

  "Tell me, Commander, in all your hundreds of hours of training, and with hundreds of hours of cockpit experience, how many instances are you aware of in which an aircraft declaring an emergency has been shot out of the sky?"

  Quasay looked at la Trec as if he was looking for an answer. Getting none, he glanced back at Zack. "I'm not familiar with one, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened before."

  "But isn't it true, under the international rules of aviation, that declaration of an emergency guarantees an aircraft safe passage to the nearest runway?"

  "Yes, that's true."

  "And there were airstrips in Jerusalem and the Negev where you could have landed, right?"

  "Right."

  "But you flew off to Syria instead?"

  "Yes, and I told you why."

  "And did it not occur to you, Commander, that an aircraft flying from Israeli airspace into Syrian airspace might get shot down, especially in this period of heightened international tensions between the two countries?"

  Quasay looked at la Trec again. "Yes, I was concerned about that, and that's why we bailed out."

  "Who bailed out?"

  "Me and Mouse."

  "Both of you bailed out?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  "Because you were concerned about getting shot down?"

  "Right."

  "So you were concerned about getting shot down over both Israel and Syria."

  Another glance at la Trec. "Yes."

  "Well then, why not just bail out over Israel?"

  Shifting eyes. A hesitation. "Look, there was chaos in the cockpit, okay? I did not think about that at first. I'd like to see how you would handle the situation if your flight officer just shot a missile into the third holiest site in all of Islam!"

  Zack smirked. He'd seen witnesses start to crack like this dozens of times. "Move to strike that last comment, Your Honor, and move for an admonition that the witness refrain from self-serving comments and just answer the question."

  "Motion to strike is granted." Norgaard looked at the defendant. "Commander, you are warned against making such comments and are instructed only to answer Commander Brewer's questions. Understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "All right, Commander Quasay, after you bailed out, what happened?"

  "I'm not sure what happened to Pip and Mouse, but Hosni's chute came down not far from mine. We got together and prayed that we would be rescued. Thank Allah that we were."

  "Commander, you had a nine-millimeter Beretta issued to you as a sidearm, did you not?"

  "Yes. Many pilots do."

  "And you had that gun on you when you were picked up, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Now if NCIS ballistics reports were to show that your pistol was fired once, would you have any reason do dispute that?"

  Another quick glance at la Trec.

  "Actually, I did fire one shot at a jackal. I didn't know how long we were going to be stranded, and I knew we would need food. Unfortunately, I missed. I decided to save the other rounds for self-defense if we needed them."

  "I see. And Did Lieutenant Alhad fire his weapon?" Zack could see Quasay's wheels spinning.

  "Uh. Yes. Once, I think. He shot at the jackal too and missed."

  "You know, we know all about Operation Islamic Glory, Commander. We know about al-Akhma, and we know you're a part of it."

  "Objection, Your Honor. That's not even a question."

  "Sustained."

  Zack knew it wasn't a proper question under the rules of evidence. He hadn't intended it to be. He'd made the statement for shock effect.

  "What does the phrase Operation Islamic Glory mean to you, Commander?"

  Quasay's gaze shifted back and forth, between la Trec, Zack, and Judge Norgaard.

  "You're wondering how we know about it, aren't you?"

  "Objection."

  "Sustained."

  Zack looked over his shoulder at a grinning Shannon McGillvery.

  "Islamic Glory," Zack persisted. "You are part of it, aren't you?"

  "I . . . I don't know what you're talking about."

  Quasay's face looked drained of blood. His gaze darted from Zack to la Trec, then back again.

  "Islamic Glory was a Muslim plan to have an American jet attack the Dome of the Rock to drive an irreparable political wedge between the United States and Israel, isn't that right?"

  "Who told you that?"

  Out of the corner of his eye, Zack saw la Trec shaking his head no.

  "Who told me doesn't matter. What matters is that it's true, isn't it?"

  "I wouldn't know anything about it."

  "We also know that you shot Lieutenant Price three times in the chest."

  Quasay's face flushed.

  "Objection to form."

  "Sustained. Please ask questions, Commander."

  "Gladly, Your Honor. Commander Quasay, if a U.S. Navy coroner's report were to show that three gunshot wounds to the chest killed Lieutenant Price, and that those shots were fired by your gun, would you have reason to dispute that?"

  A low rumble grew into a roar from the spectators in the back.

  "Objection, Your Honor!"

  "Order in the court!"

  The roar continued.

  "Order! Order!" Three whaps from Judge Norgaard's gavel restored quiet.

  "What's the basis for your objection, Mr. la Trec?"

  "Unfair surprise, Your Honor. We've not seen a copy of such a report, and if such a report existed, the government was required to disclose it before trial. Therefore, the defense moves to dismiss, or in the alternative, moves for a mistrial."

  Norgaard eyed the members of the military jury. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to excuse you while I take up a matter with counsel. Bailiff?"

  The bailiff took the members out; then Norgaard looked at Zack. "Commander, I share Mr. la Trec's concerns about springing a question like that in the middle of a trial, especially if evidence wasn't turned over ahead of time. You know the requirements of Brady versus Maryland as well as I do. The disclosure requirement in the military is even more demanding than in the civilian courts. The defense gets everything. Your explanation had better be good, or I'm inclined to grant the defense's motion."

  "Your Honor," Zack began, "I am, as you know from the previous times I've had the pleasure of appearing before you, very much aware of the military requirement of full disclosure prior to trial. However, in this case, the report was only made available to me just before the last break. I spent the time during the recess reading it, and therefore I haven't had the report long enough to disclose it."

  "So there is such a report?" Norgaard asked.

  "Yes, there is, Your Honor. I have it right here." Zack waved the NCIS report in the air.

  "Why are you just now getting it, Commander?"

  "Because, Your Honor, NCIS just found Lieutenant Price's body in the wreckage of the F-18 in the Syrian Desert. He had not ejected, by the way, contrary to the defendant's sworn testimony."

  "You say NCIS found him?"

  "Your Honor, NCIS Special Agent Shannon McGillvery was heading a team which included Israeli special forces and U.S. Navy crash experts. She's here in the courtroom today." Zack gestured to Shannon, who nodded at Judge Norgaard. "The body was bagged, flown out of Syria -- on a very dangerous mission, by the way -- and then taken to Naval Hospital Naples for an autopsy. The navy medical examiner found three bullet holes in Lieutenant Price's chest, Your Honor, and one bullet, which ballistics traced to the defendant's gun."

  "May I see the report?"

  "Of course, Your Honor." Zack approached the bench and handed it to the judge, who studied it for a few moments. "Bailiff, please hand this to Mr. la Trec." The bailiff did. "Please take a few moments to read this, Mr. la Trec." He did, then l
ooked up at the judge.

  "Mr. la Trec, I've read many NCIS reports during my career in the JAG Corps. I have not yet admitted this into evidence, but at first blush, it does appear to be authentic, and the representations contained in it support Lieutenant Commander Brewer's assertion that Lieutenant Price's body was just found. Of course, you would have the opportunity to attack that premise by calling and cross-examining Special Agent McGillvery if you would like.

  "I will tell you, however, that if I am convinced that the body was just found within the last two or three days, I will deny your motion to dismiss and also deny your motion for a mistrial. In fairness to your client, however, I will grant you a recess, for as long as you reasonably need, to build any defense."

  La Trec leered at Zack. The arrogant facade was gone from his face. "Your Honor, I desire a short recess to discuss this with my client."

  "Very well. This court is in recess."

  "All rise."

  CHAPTER 61

  Israeli District Court

  Prisoner Holding Cell No. 1

  West Bank Division

  They've gotten to somebody!" Mohammed Quasay pounded his fist on the table. He stared at Jean-Claude la Trec, then at Jeanette L'Enfant. "My stomach is in knots." He dropped his head into his hands.

  "It is going to be all right." Jeanette L'Enfant laid her hand on the back of his shoulder.

  Was Allah really in all this? Why had he let Hosni Alhad influence him? Mouse Price was an infidel, but a friend. Maybe Allah wasn't in this after all. Maybe al-Akhma was a madman. Maybe Allah was now punishing him for destroying the Dome. If this were really Allah's will, why would he have been discovered?

  This wasn't what al-Akhma had promised. He and Hosni were supposed to become heroes of the new United Islamic Republic. Now Hosni was dead, and Brewer was closing in like an American bloodhound tracking a wounded animal.

  He looked up. "No. It's not going to be all right. I want to cut a deal. I want you to approach Brewer and offer my service vices as a material witness in return for them not to seek the death penalty. Otherwise, they'll fry me. Just like they did the chaplains. Tell them I'll sing about Islamic Glory. Anything they want to know."

  La Trec and L'Enfant exchanged glances. "Are you out of your mind, Commander? What makes you think Brewer will deal even if we offer it? And if he takes it, do you really think the Council of Ishmael will let you live?"

 

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