by Don Brown
“How do we know this?” She walked forward, stopping just in front of the banister rail separating the courtroom well from the members. “We know this because forensic examiners have found microscopic evidence of brain tissue in Reska’s boat, and gunpowder residue in the gunwales.”
She paused, stepped back, and then resumed speaking in a lower, softer voice. “We will prove all this through tapes and transcripts, through the voices of the defendants themselves. We will prove our case beyond a reasonable doubt. Thank you.”
Diane strode confidently back to the prosecutor’s table, where Zack gave her a subtle nod of approval.
“Mr. Levinson? Opening statement?”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Levinson said in the trademark patrician accent of his native Massachusetts. He stood, straightened his lapels, and then walked to the jury rail and flashed the members a seemingly genuine, caring, and charismatic look.
“Mr. President, and distinguished members of this military jury, it is an honor for me, as a civilian and as a citizen of the United States, to stand before you today.
“You have all taken a sacred oath to defend our lives”—Levinson’s hand swept around the gallery of civilian reporters jammed into the courtroom—“to defend my life, against enemies of the United States, and yes, to lay down your own lives in doing so.
“If only I could adequately convey the heartfelt appreciation of the millions of American civilians who have neither the means nor the ability to adequately say thank you.”
A pause and a smile.
Diane noticed that a couple of the female officers, both commanders in the Nurse Corps, returned his smile. Levinson was less than a minute into his speech, and already the charisma was oozing.
“You know, when I was asked to defend these officers, at first I was reluctant.
“No, ladies and gentlemen, I was reluctant because, frankly, I don’t have that much experience in military law and because, frankly, having never served in the military myself, I felt inadequate—to be honest with you, unworthy—to stand here, as a civilian, before this noble group of officers.”
“Was I reluctant because I doubted the innocence of my clients? Absolutely not. I have never doubted their innocence. And neither will you when we are through.” He gave them another pseudo-sincere nod.
Levinson raised his head, focusing on each of the members one by one. “But then, as I struggled with what I faced here, I began to do research in the area of military law, and I ran across something that struck me profoundly. Something that struck me, frankly, at my very core.” Levinson brought his hands to his heart.
“I discovered, ladies and gentlemen, the naval officer’s oath.” He stepped back and paused, then started again in a slightly more regal version of his patrician accent. “‘That I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic . . .’”
Another pause. Then he resumed in a lower voice. “These words, ladies and gentlemen, these words that each of you swore allegiance to, brought chills up and down my spine.
“And then I realized this very trial is about defending the Constitution. Because this Constitution, which is the very fabric of our noble republic, guarantees freedom of religion. Really, that’s why we are here. “Lieutenant Colcernian says this is about murder.”
He actually knows my name.
“But I say the murderers are already dead.” Levinson’s silver hair glistened in the sunlight now pouring through the windows just behind the members. “These men are being prosecuted only because they are Muslim, with the government using tapes with ambiguous language to string together a weak case.
“You know, several years before the Constitution that you swore to defend was enacted, there was in my home state of Massachusetts, in the town of Salem, an outbreak of mass hysteria against a large number of innocent women who were burned at the stake or stoned to death.
“History calls that travesty the Salem Witch Trials.
“A few years ago, in the 1930s in Europe, those of us who are of the Jewish faith were the victims of another such hysterical hate.
“Today, unfortunately, Muslim-Americans are the modern legacy to the innocent victims of the Salem Witch Trials. This case will show that same hysterical hate exists today, unfortunately.” He paused dramatically. “We are confident that at the end of the day, you will return with a verdict of not guilty.
“Thank you.”
Diane almost forgot to breathe during his riveting performance. The members of the jury looked transfixed as they watched Levinson return to his seat. Diane saw the beginning of a smile on the Nurse Corps commander’s face. The other commander nodded approvingly, her gaze riveted on the handsome Levinson.
CHAPTER 56
The Lincoln Bedroom
The White House
2330 hours (EST)
Mack, you need some sleep.” The first lady, in a blue silk nightgown, looked up from the king-sized, canopied bed, rumored to have been Abraham Lincoln’s. Her husband glanced back with a sheepish smile.
The commander-in-chief, wearing navy blue pajamas with the presidential seal embroidered on the pockets, punched the remote control and found the only news show he watched with any regularity.
The sounds of trumpets, drums, and tympanis accompanied the show’s opening graphics, which looked like stars flying through the galaxy from the bridge of the Starship Enterprise at warp speed.
As the music faded, the show’s host appeared on the screen with the lights of the San Diego skyline, reflecting off the bay, behind him.
“I’m Tom Miller, and this is NightWatch.
“All week long, since the Navy’s press conference introducing the two young prosecutors who would take on the world’s greatest lawyer in the court-martial of the century, America’s obsession has turned to this trial and the young officers who will prosecute Wells Levinson’s clients. It would be the first court-marital in history to be televised, the Navy announced. Today . . . round one in that trial. How did ‘Diane Mania’ hold up against Wellington Levinson? . . . We’ll find out when NightWatch returns, live from San Diego.”
More trumpets and tympanis.
More stars flying through the galaxy.
More complaining by the first lady.
“You’re obsessed with that trial, Mr. President.” She spoke with a sarcastic grogginess as she pulled the sheets over her shoulders. “I’m going to sleep.”
“I just hope I haven’t put too much on those kids.” When there was no response, he glanced back toward his wife, who was breathing rhythmically under the covers.
“And welcome back to San Diego, where we’ve completed day one of the trial of United States versus Olajuwon, Reska, and Abdul-Sehen, all Muslim chaplains accused of treason, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. It was a day in which both parties traded opening statements, and the prosecution began putting on its evidence. And CNN legal affairs correspondents Bernie Woodson and Jeanie Van Horton, who I’m sure are more than ready to provide their expert commentary, join us tonight. And we’ll start with you, Jeanie. How did these young officers fare against Wells Levinson?”
The camera switched to a middle-aged blond. The caption at the bottom of the screen read “Jeanie Van Horton, Former Federal Prosecutor.”
“Well, Tom, Wells Levinson was vintage Wells Levinson today. Smooth and charismatic. He brilliantly spun this as a constitutional trial involving freedom of religion. And if this were a moot court competition, Tom, Levinson would have won on points alone. But having said all that, as good as Levinson was today in his opening statement, in my view, he did not deliver the knockout blow many expected against the younger and less experienced Lieutenant Diane Colcernian, who came across as poised and confident in the government’s case. If she was nervous today, Tom, it did not show.”
“Fair enough,” Miller said as the CNN cameras switched to a picture of the venerable, tough Bernie Woodson. “Bernie, Jeanie thinks the prosecut
ion was left staggering but standing today. Do you agree?”
“Tom, I agree that the defense is ahead on points at this stage, but I wouldn’t say that the prosecution is staggered by any means. But since you brought up the boxing analogy, it’s true that Levinson, who has never lost a trial, goes for the knockout early on. He says so in his books. And he does this by being head-and-shoulders above his opposition in the opening statement, followed by quick, effective, and devastating cross-examination. Today was vintage Levinson, but Colcernian was good enough to keep the government in it. The amazing thing about Colcernian’s performance, Tom, is that this was the very first opening argument she’s made as a prosecutor. You’ll recall that until just last week, Diane Colcernian was a defense attorney in the JAG Corps. Very impressive by both attorneys today, Tom.”
“Jeanie Van Horton, after the opening statements, what about the quality of the prosecution’s evidence? Comment on that, please.”
“You bet, Tom.” The blond was back on the screen. “They began with the testimony of NCIS Special Agent Harry Kilnap, the criminal investigator from Norfolk credited with busting this case open for the government. Kilnap played a series of tape recordings in which the chaplains seemed to acknowledge participation in the acts they’re accused of. In one transcript, Chaplain Abdul-Sehen was overheard pressing Chaplain Reska to ‘take care of the Aziz problem.’ In another tape, Reska said, ‘We are going to take a boat ride, and the problem will be taken care of.’ In yet another tape, Olajuwon chastised Reska for failing to lecture al-Aziz on the virtues of martyrdom. Then there was a conversation between Reska and al-Aziz in which Reska invited al-Aziz onto his boat, the River Rat. After that, al-Aziz disappeared and is presumed dead. All in all, some pretty dramatic stuff, Tom.”
“Dramatic indeed,” the NightWatch anchor said as the image of Bernie Woodson reappeared. “How did Wells Levinson do in rebutting those tapes?”
“Well, Tom, the defense position is that the tapes are ambiguous and inconclusive, a point Levinson tried ramming home on his cross-examination. And Levinson challenged Kilnap several times to point out any specific admission of murder, which the agent admitted he could not.
“But despite Levinson’s cross, perhaps the most damaging of the tapes was a recording, supposedly between Petty Officer al-Aziz and Chaplain Reska at a Shoney’s restaurant in Virginia Beach, in which Reska, presumably referring to a bomb planted in an F/A-18, says, ‘We are at war. Allah has already given you a glorious result to your mission. You have destroyed an instrument of war that would have been used against many of our Arab brothers.’”
“Sounds like damaging stuff, Bernie,” Miller said. “How did Levin-son counter?”
“Levinson pointed out in his cross-examination that Reska could’ve been talking about a previous mission to the Middle East, when the squadron to which he was attached struck terrorist sites, which Levin-son suggested saved the lives of moderate Arabs. The ‘instrument of war’ he said, was a rogue missile platform destroyed by one of the planes in al-Aziz’s squadron last year. Plus, Kilnap admitted that there was not a specific reference to the downed F/A-18 in the tape. Kilnap also admitted he was not personally familiar with the voices of any of the chaplains and could not positively identify them. The government is expected to call a voice identification expert later in the trial.”
“Think the members bought it, Jeanie?”
“You know, I gave up trying to read juries a long time ago, Tom. Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they surprise you. Did Levinson plant some seeds of doubt? Maybe, I don’t know.
“I do know this, however, Lieutenant Zack Brewer, who will most likely deliver the government’s closing argument in this case day after tomorrow, is going to have to really be on top of his game if the government hopes to secure a conviction.”
“Jeanie Van Horton, Bernie Woodson, as always it has been a pleasure. And when we come back . . .”
The president clicked the remote control, then crawled back into the Lincoln bed, wrapped himself around the sleeping first lady, and silently prayed for wisdom for his two young prosecutors.
CHAPTER 57
Levinson headquarters
Hotel del Coronado
Coronado, California
2100 hours (PST)
Yes!” Sitting on the corner of his bed, Wells Levinson thumped the report delivered to his suite moments earlier. “Yes!”
“You okay, Wells?” Terrie Bearden leaned against the doorjamb in a blue workout suit and unscrewed the cap on her bottled water. “I was just going down to the gym for a quick workout.”
With a grunt of satisfaction, Levinson handed her the envelope. “Read this.”
Terrie opened it and studied the papers. “You are ruthless, Wellington.”
“This will teach the punk in the ice-cream suit to call my statements irresponsible.”
“Aren’t we lucky your investigators never followed us around when we were that age?”
“Terrie, postpone your workout. I want this leaked through our back channels to the LA Times, the San Diego Union, and every other media outlet in our database. Get moving on it now. I want it shouting from the front page tomorrow morning.”
She shot him a look of disapproval. “Wells, do you really want to do this to the kid? I mean, it’s not like you need this to win the case.”
“You heard what Miller and the two talking heads said on NightWatch, didn’t you? They want a knockout punch? They’ll get a knock out punch.” She looked uncertain, so he added, “Now do you want to get paid or not?”
“Okay, okay, Wells.” Terrie draped a white Hotel del Coronado towel over her shoulders. “Give me the papers.”
Prosecution headquarters
Navy Trial Command
Building 73
32nd Street Naval Station
San Diego
Day 2, 0415 hours (PST)
After working until midnight, Diane and Zack agreed to go home, get some sleep, and meet again at six in the morning.
For Diane, the adrenaline from yesterday’s events, and especially from delivering the government’s opening statement against Wells Levinson, made the notion of sleep a fleeting concept. Then, when she arrived at her Del Mar townhouse and plopped down on her sofa, she made the mistake of flipping on the television.
All night long, CNN played sound bites from both opening statements, along with Tom Miller’s taped interview of Jeanie Van Horton. At the words “He did not deliver the knockout blow many expected against the younger and less experienced Lieutenant Diane Colcernian, who came across as poised and confident in the government’s case,” she sat up and took notice.
Heady stuff.
But what if they lost? She imagined the moment of defeat, if and when it arrived, and felt her self-confidence ebb.
“That’s it. No more media for me till this trial is over.” She flipped off the television and headed to bed.
Her “no media” vow lasted until 4:15 a.m., when dressed in her summer whites and ready for the long day ahead, she grabbed her briefcase and headed out the door. On her front steps, the early morning edition of the San Diego Union-Tribune beckoned.
She picked it up and glanced at the headline. “Oh no . . .”
She dropped her briefcase and stepped back into her townhouse for more light. Her heart dropped as she read. Oh, dear Lord. Please don’t let this be true.
Forty-five minutes later, at 5:00 a.m., when she arrived at her reserved parking space at the one-story Trial Command headquarters on base, Brewer’s Mercedes was already there. The rest of the spaces were empty.
She pushed the security code and came in the canal entrance of the trial wing—the entrance just across the narrow waterway separating the 32nd Street Naval Station from the National Steel and Shipbuilding Company.
Lights spilled into the hallway from Zack’s office, and the sharp-edged clashing sounded like a fist punching a file cabinet.
“I’ll kill him! I’ll
absolutely ring his neck!” Zack’s enraged voiced carried down the empty passageway.
He’s seen the article.
“That good-for-nothing, unethical rat!”
She stepped into his doorway. “You okay?”
“Diane?” Zack looked stunned. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”
“I understand why you’re upset,” she said. “It was a real low blow.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “You know?”
She nodded.
“How?”
“I get the early edition of the Union.”
“The Union? What are you talking about?”
“You’ve not seen it?”
“Seen what?”
“Seen this.” She laid the newspaper on his desk. There it was, under the lead story about the opening statements.
DID BREWER HAVE AN AFFAIR WITH ENLISTED WOMAN?
SOME SAY PROSECUTOR VIOLATED MILITARY LAW
By Dennis Wacker, Military Affairs Correspondent
Did Lieutenant Zack Brewer, the government’s lead prosecutor in the case of United States v. Mohammed Olajuwon et al., himself violate military law by having an affair with an enlisted woman?
Some say yes.
Witnesses close to the situation and speaking anonymously suggest Brewer, a Navy JAG officer, may have had a romantic relationship with Amy DeBenedetto, an enlisted paralegal who has since been commissioned as an ensign in the JAG Corps and is now attending law school in Virginia.