Court Martial (22 page)

Spencer left the witness stand unchallenged by the defense and took his seat again behind the trial counsel’s table. He took
his time studying the faces of the members of the general court-martial board as each lawyer reviewed his position on the
first set of charges and then on the second set. Twice Spencer caught Sergeant Colorado staring at him; the third time he
turned his head and saw the senior NCO watching him, Spencer stared back. The exchange was very interesting. Spencer sensed
that the Indian was looking for a crack in his armor. Spencer attacked: he smiled.

Sergeant First Class Colorado smiled back. He knew that Spencer was definitely from the warrior clan and would have made a
perfect Cheyenne warrior, maybe even a war chief when he had lived a few more years, but that would be very unlikely in these
modem times. Spencer Barnett wouldn’t live another twenty-four hours. The Brotherhood had a lot of money and the small ranch
Colorado had dreamed about for years had already been bought and paid for in his name.

Arnasao saw the penetrating stares passing between the NCO and Barnett and couldn’t figure out why Colorado was glaring at
Spencer with a hunting look in his eyes. The two of them should be friends because they were so much alike. Arnason decided
that he would risk introducing Colorado to Spencer after the afternoon session, even though there might be a bit of a risk
in compromising the court-martial. He knew where the Indian would probably be right after it got dark out, but the problem
would be getting either Spencer out of the secure compound or Colorado into it after dark. The FBI and the CIA were not taking
any
chances after Spencer’s little escape to Arlington Cemetery with his foster brother. That escapade had embarrassed the Agency
and it wouldn’t happen twice.

General Heller gave the opening charges for the counts of murder against James, and General Tallon presented his counterreasoning
as to why all the charges of murder should be dropped, based on no eyewitnesses or concrete proof that the highly preposterous
charges were even real. The president of the board called for a recess and the seven members went into the private mom that
had been reserved as their chambers. The panel had been behind closed doors for less than twenty minutes when the door opened.
The expression on Major General Koch’s face was grim. He glanced at Colonel Chan, the law officer, and received a curt nod
of assurance.

“Gentlemen… we have met in closed session and all of us agree that unless the trial lawyer can produce more substantial evidence,
the charges under Article 118 will have to be dropped.” General Koch wouldn’t look Heller directly in the eyes.

Sergeant First Class Colorado rested his eyes on Spencer. He couldn’t get out of his mind the scars the young soldier bore
all over his body. Colorado’s eyes slipped over to the light blue ribbon on Spencer’s chest that had five tiny white stars.
The senior NCO read the ribbons from the Medal of Honor down to the campaign and service ribbons. The expression on his face
didn’t change.

Brigadier General Heller slowly stood up behind his table and pushed back his chair using his legs. “Sir… I can produce an
eyewitness to three of Specialist Mohammed James’s executions of American soldiers in combat.”

Tallon paused, knowing that what the general had just said would cause a furor in the courtroom. He had guessed right. It
took General Koch and five of the MPs to calm the courtroom down before Koch could speak.

“Please, present your eyewitness then, General Heller.” Koch used a white handkerchief to mop the sweat off his brow in the
air-conditioned room. He had truly hoped that the charges for murder would have been dropped.

“Why didn’t you inform us that you had a witness?” Tallon was enraged and beat the top of his table with his fist.

Heller smiled. “After the attempt at breaking James out of Fort Leavenworth and the attempted murder of three of our trial
witnesses, we thought absolute secrecy was essential for this soldier’s welfare.” Heller added before Tallon could interrupt,
“The decision was approved by the attorney general’s office as legal.” Heller turned toward a man dressed in a civilian suit,
who had been waiting next to the door, and nodded. The man left the courtroom and returned seconds later escorting a black
soldier, who was followed by two men carrying commando M-16s.

Specialist James recognized the man the instant he walked through the doors. Sweat broke out over James’s forehead and his
left hand started shaking. James wasn’t suffering from fear but extreme anger. He should have blown the black mother fucker
away when he had killed the rest of the son-of-a-bitch’s squad.

“Do you know him?” The bass voice of the civilian lawyer echoed in James’s ear.

“Yes.”

“From where?’

“I let him live because he was
black!
”.

“Did he
see
anything?” The black lawyer felt his shoulders slump even though he tried to prevent it from happening.

“I don’t know.”

The black soldier wearing a First Cavalry Division shoulder patch took his place next to the witness stand and swore in. He
kept looking over at James and the group of black lawyers. The soldier looked confused and Talton locked in on that.

“Would you please state your name and your unit for the benefit of this court,” Heller opened the questioning.

“Private First Class Taylor Barker, Second Squad, Third Platoon, Bravo Company… ” The soldier lost his train of thought when
his eyes locked with James’s and missed his battalion. ”… Second Brigade… First Cavalry Division.”

Heller saw the glare James was throwing at the black witness and realized that James was trying to break down the man’s will
to testify against a black brother in court. “Private Barker… would you please relate to this court what happened on April
fifteenth of this year while you were on a combat patrol.”

The black soldier broke away from James’s stare. “Yes sir! My squad was assigned to recon an area to the west of our battalion’s
position. We had set up a claymore ambush and had spent the whole night out there without hearing or seeing anything. When
morning came…”

“Please continue,” Heller prodded the black soldier. “Remember why you are here today.”

The soldier broke the eye lock again and started talking. “We were just about ready to break down the ambush when this black
soldier just walks out of the jungle.”

“Can you identify this black soldier? Is he in this room?” Heller’s voice was commanding.

“Yes sir.”

“Please point him out to the members of the board.”

Barker slowly raised his hand and pointed directly at James. The soldier’s finger shook but he held his arm up and spoke.
“It was him.”

“Are you sure?” Heller needed a positive identification.

“Absolutely. He talked to me and told me to take off after he had shot my squad leader in the back of the head and two more
of my squad.” The black soldier stood up and his voice rose. “What do you think I am!” He was yelling at James. “They were
my
buddies!
”

James sprang to his feet. “They were devilbeasts!”

“Fuck you!” Barker started moving toward James with a murderous gleam in his eyes. “One of those
white
devilbeasts saved my ass from being blown away… and another one of those
devilbeasts
paid my mother’s rent last Christmas so my family wouldn’t be evicted from our home by our
black
landlord!” Barker’s voice rose to a scream. “You’re the fucking devil!”

“You’re
dead!
Do you hear me, motherfucker!
Dead!
”

Four MPs grabbed James and forced him back into his chair. Another pair of MPs escorted Barker back to the witness stand and
stood next to him.

“One more outbreak like that, young man, and you’ll be charged!” Koch said to Barker.

“I apologize, sir. It won’t happen again.... But just
seeing him set
me off.”

“All right, Private Barker… As best as you can, take your time and tell us exactly what happened on that day.” Heller knew
that he had already won.

“He came out of the jungle and surprised all of us. My squad leader called over to him and it looked like he—James —was as
surprised to see us as we were to see him out there in the middle of nowhere. He talked with my squad leader for a few minutes
and told him that he had been separated from his unit and was lost.”

“How was Specialist James dressed?”

“Like us…”

“Please explain exactly how that was.”

“Jungle fatigues, backpack, web gear, M-16 rifle…” Barker looked puzzled. “Like us… an American soldier.”

“Thank you, Private… that’s exactly what we wanted to hear. He was dressed exactly like an
American
soldier.” Heller looked at General Koch. “Sir, I would like to note here for the record that Specialist James was listed
as missing in action at that time and as a prisoner of war.”

“It’s been noted.” Koch cleared his throat.

“Please continue…” Heller sat down again.

“Anyway… James talked to my squad leader and then we were ordered to break down the ambush because James told him that he
had just come from the west and hadn’t seen any sign of any NVA.” Barker looked over at James and clenched his jaws. “That
lying bastard was
with them!
He shot three of my squad, and my sergeant tried to zap him but he killed him first. The NVA hit us hard and—”

“Excuse me, Barker… what happened
first—James
killing the American soldiers, or the NVA attacking?” Heller wanted the story to fit Barker’s statement.

Barker frowned and then looked up again at the trial counsel. “The NVA opened fire… that’s what gave James the chance to shoot
my
buddies…
but my squad leader saw him do it and then he said something to James and James killed him.”

“And then what happened?”

“James tied a red armband around his arm”—Barker used his hand to show on his right upper arm where the bandanna had been
tied—“and then he started moving through the grass until he ran into me. He asked me if I had seen
anything
and I told him no.”

“Why did you say that?”

“Because he had the drop on me and I knew that he would kill me if I said yes.”

“Then what happened?”

“He looked at me real funny and then told me to get my ass out of there quick.”

“Why do you think James didn’t kill you?”

Barker’s forehead wrinkled and he shook his head slowly from side to side. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that question
and the only answer that I can come up with is be cause I’m black.”

“That’s
right,
you Oreo motherfucker! If I would have known then that you were a fucking traitor to the black race, I would have blown your
ass away too!” James had lost control of himself and was trying to climb over the top of the table to get to Barker.

“Come on, you fucking black Cong! I’ll tear your flicking face off!” Barker crouched and waited for James.

“Remove them!” General Koch barked the order. He hit the desk with his gavel. “This court is adjourned until nine
A.M.
tomorrow!”

The doors opened and a squad of MPs entered carrying a straitjacket and a stretcher.

Brigadier General Heller turned around and glanced at Corporal Barnett. Spencer was smiling at James, who was being held in
his seat by two huge MPs while the rest of them tried slipping the straitjacket over his arms.

Brigadier General Tallon looked over at the black lawyer with the bass voice and shook his head. The black lawyer ignored
the military lawyer and glared down at James.

The courtroom was being cleared by the military policemen and was almost empty when James was secured in the straitjacket.
A team of FBI agents holding exposed Uzi submachine guns stood in a loose circle around Spencer, Arnasao, and Woods. They
weren’t taking any chances on the outburst being a diversion so a hit man could kill their witnesses, even inside the secure
courtroom.

James tried spitting at one of the MPs and stopped when his eyes locked onto Barnett standing less than ten feet away, staring
at him.

“You’re dead!”
He screamed so loud, the words were almost indistinguishable.

Spencer smiled. “I hope you’re having a bad day, James.”

The canary-yellow Seville was parked outside the motel-room door in the rear section of the Heart of Fayetteville. The large
motel located just outside of Fort Bragg was very popular as a transient billet for military families and as a place for the
young paratroopers to go on the weekends and party. The military families were put in the front portion of the motel and the
paratroopers were given rooms in the back section where they could party and pick up hookers.

Sergeant Colorado pulled off Bragg Boulevard and parked him GMC truck under the roof in front of the main desk. He looked
around the area before he got out of his truck and entered the lobby. He asked the desk clerk for Moore’s room and was directed
to the back units of the motel. A light misting rain mixed with the road grime on the windshield and Colorado pushed his washer
lever to clean the light coating off his windshield, causing the splattered bugs to make it even worse. He pushed the lever
again and cleaned the window enough to see as he drove slowly to the back of the long rows of rooms, looking for the number
the clerk had given him. The light was burned out next to Moore’s scarred door but Colorado located the room by bracketing
it with the room numbers on each side of it. He. left his truck and knocked lightly. A door opened three rooms down from where
he was standing and a very drunk paratrooper wearing only a pair of highly polished jump boots stepped outside holding a bottle
of rye whiskey at his side. He looked up at the dark sky and called back into the room, “Yep! It’s fucking raining!” Someone
yelled something back to him that Colorado couldn’t hear and the paratrooper laughed and yelled back, “Have you ever fucked
in the rain?”