"What if I'm here forever?"

That was a legitimate question, since many of the inmates at Gitmo had been there for years; most without even being charged with anything.

"Just trust me, Ahmed," Brent said, sliding the habeas petition over to him and handing him a pen.

"Oh, I trust you. I just don't trust them. This is their game." Ahmed looked over the petition and signed the back page.

He was right, and the pursuit of justice was also a game, where one man or woman employed by the Government, or sometimes twelve men and women, decided the fate of another. Whether or not that decision was just depended on your point of view. The winner usually thought it was a just result: The loser bore the consequences.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

The Combatant Status Review Tribunals, or CRSTs, were military tribunals designed to replace the military commissions that President Bush and his cabinet envisioned and created to try, convict and execute their prisoners outside of the United States court system. After the original tribunals were abolished by the Supreme Court in 2006, only to be resurrected by the Military Commissions Act, which abolished the right of habeas corpus: that was also shot down by the Supreme Court in 2008, so the CRSTs were reformed to comply with the Third Geneva Convention. They were not much of an improvement.

Brent didn't have much time at all to prepare for this Kangaroo Court, but he had read some transcripts of proceedings on the Department of Defense website, so he knew what to expect. The detainee had no rights whatsoever, and it was mainly a show for the military to go through the "evidence," which was presumed to be accurate, that the Government had to determine that the detainee was an enemy combatant. The CRST was supposed to be an independent and neutral body. Most of the proceedings took place in secret.

The courtroom for the CRST was a trailer. Brent was provided transport to it as Ahmed's personal representative, and Ahmed was seated in a white chair, with his hands and feet shackled to a bolt in the floor in front of a table draped with a cloth, on which there were placed three microphones in front of three judges chairs, behind which was a mirror on the wall and above that a tiny American flag. A small table held another microphone and recording apparatus for a recorder and a reporter, both of whom were seated when Brent entered the room.

After Brent was seated, three very important looking officers in full uniform took their seats at the draped table. The one in the middle, who had a higher chair, the most important one, spoke.

"Please remain seated and come to order. Please proceed, Recorder."

The Recorder spoke in a nasal monotone, "This tribunal is being conducted at 1009 local time June 5, 2008 on board United States Naval Base Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. The following personnel are present: "Captain Ulysses Fenmore, United States Navy, President.

"Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Pappie, United States Marine Corps, Member.

"Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Revere, United States Air Force.

"Sergeant Franklin Smith, United States Marine Corps.

"Reporter Lieutenant Jackson Devlin, United States Navy, Recorder.

"Captain Thomas Grant is the Judge Advocate Member of the tribunal.

"All rise," said the Recorder, and the Kangaroo Court went through its pomp and circumstance, swearing in the reporter, the recorder, and then rising again to swear in the members of the tribunal.

"Mr. Brent Marks, I understand that you will be acting as personal representative of the detainee, is that correct?" asked Captain Fenmore.

"Yes, Captain."

"Mr. Marks, I am the president of the tribunal. You will address me as Mr. President."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"The Recorder will swear in the personal representative."

"Do you swear or affirm that you will faithfully perform the duties or personal representative in this tribunal, so help you God?"

"I do," said Brent.

"Please be seated," said Captain Fenmore. "Mr. Marks, are you advising the tribunal that the detainee has elected not to participate in this tribunal proceeding?"

"No, Mr. President. The very fact that he is seated here with his hands and feet bolted to your floor evidences his participation. The detainee also has a name, sir. It is Ahmed Khury, and he has decided to invoke his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent during these proceedings.'

"Mr. Marks, we granted an exception to allow you to act as personal representative, rather than an officer. I'm sure you were briefed as to the rules of this tribunal, were you not?"

"Yes, I was, Mr. President."

"Then you should know, sir, that the Fifth Amendment does not apply in these proceedings. However, the detainee will not be forced to make any testimony."

"I am aware that you believe that the Constitution itself does not apply to these proceedings or to the way you treat the prisoners."

"Recorder, please provide the tribunal with the unclassified evidence," said the Captain.

The Recorder held out a report in his hand. "I am handing the tribunal what has been previously marked as Exhibit R-1, the unclassified summary that relates to the Detainee's status as an enemy combatant. A copy of this exhibit was provided to the personal representative in advance of this hearing for presentation to the Detainee."

The report was a "fill in the blanks" form surveillance report that had been completed by military intelligence, giving a paint by numbers picture of Ahmed as a sleeper cell reuniting with his jihadist brothers.

"Objection, hearsay," said Brent.

"Mr. Marks, the rules of evidence don't apply to this proceeding."

"It seems that no rules apply, Mr. President. Why don't you just make your findings right now? We all know what they are going to be."

"Mr. Marks, you will respect our procedures. The Recorder will read the unclassified summary of evidence for the record."

The Recorder read through a report, recounting surveillance on Ahmed's brother, Sabeen, his suspecting money laundering activities, alleged ties to al Qaeda, and their capture in Iraq. It was mainly a "guilt by association" report, detailing Sabeen's friends, who were suspected al-Qaeda sleeper cells.

Next, Ahmed's transcribed "confession," extracted from his waterboarding session, was introduced.

"Objection, Mr. President. This document cannot possibly be used as evidence. It violates Mr. Khury's Sixth Amendment right to counsel, his Fifth Amendment privilege against self-incrimination, his Eighth Amendment right to be free from cruel and unusual punishment, and over 50 years of case law against the admission of coerced confessions."

"Once again, Mr. Marks, these principles do not apply to this tribunal."

"If these principles don't apply, Mr. President, then just what exactly are you fighting for in Afghanistan, and Iraq? Why have so many of our American boys died there? Defending what? The right to obliterate the Constitution and everything it stands for? The right to treat our fellow man as if he is some kind of an insect instead of a human being? Is that what we have come to? If that is what you think America stands for, Captain, I don't know how you can say that you are proud to be an American."

The Captain stood up in a rage. "How dare you impugn the integrity of this tribunal? My patriotism is not in question here. Mr. Marks, I will hold you in contempt if there are any further comments like those."

"Understood Mr. President, your patriotism is not in issue. I've had my say."

The Recorder then read into the record Ahmed's coerced confession.

"Does the Detainee wish to present any evidence?"

"No, Mr. President."

"Recorder, do you have any further unclassified evidence?"

"No sir, Mr. President, that concludes the presentation of the unclassified evidence, but I respectfully request a closed tribunal session at an appropriate time to present classified evidence."

"Recorder, your request for a closed session is granted and it will be taken in due course. We will now pause briefly for the tribunal members to read the classified evidence."

The three military chiefs looked as important as three toads sitting on the biggest lily pads in the pond, as they read through the secret evidence that neither Brent nor Ahmed had the right to see.

"We will now allow for the calling of witnesses. All witnesses called before this tribunal may be questioned by the Detainee, if present, the personal representative, the Recorder, and the tribunal members. Does the Recorder have any witnesses to present?"

"No, sir."

"On the Detainee election form provided to the tribunal earlier, I note the Detainee has not requested any witnesses to be present. Does any member of the tribunal have any questions for the personal representative or the Recorder at this time?"

"No, sir."

"No, sir."

"All unclassified evidence having been presented to the tribunal, this concludes the open tribunal session. The Detainee, Ahmed Khury shall be notified of the tribunal decision upon completion of the review of these proceedings by the Combatant Status Review Tribunal Convening Authority in Washington, D.C. If the tribunal determines that the Detainee should not be classified as an enemy combatant, he will be released to his home country as soon as arrangements can be made."

Fat chance of that happening, Brent thought.

"The Administrative Review Board will make an assessment of whether there is continued reason to believe that the Detainee poses a threat to the United States or its coalition partners in the ongoing armed conflict against terrorist organizations such as al Qaeda and its affiliates and supporters or whether there are other factors bearing upon the continued need for detention."

With the cold mechanical canned read with the, "insert-the-blanks for the name," the mock court proceedings had come to an end.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Laura Ingalls Wilder said, "Home is the nicest place there is." As Brent was flying home from Cuba, he was looking forward to being in that special place. But, unbeknownst to him, a different part of the game was being played out in Santa Barbara. Agents of the FBI Special Terrorist Task Force paid a surprise visit to Catherine Khury's home while she was at work.

The Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution, intact for over 200 years, guaranteed that the right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath of affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized. After September 11th, 2001, those were just words on an old piece of paper, no longer a restriction of the Government's overreaching power to shake down its subjects.

Without a warrant, and in the name of national security, four Special Agents with weapons drawn entered the Foothill Road home and personal sanctuary of suspected terrorist Ahmed Khury, his wife Catherine, and their family, secretly, without knocking and announcing their presence, as authorized by the Patriot Act. The only one they had to convince to open the door was the locksmith.

The agents shuffled by the two pairs of large shoes and two pairs of small shoes neatly arranged in the corridor and trampled the soft plush carpet of the Khury's cozy living room, once reserved for shoeless feet. There, they opened every drawer and cabinet and carefully looked through all the contents, searching for anything that might be incriminating.

Inviting himself for a stroll through the Khury's memories, one agent trespassed through the Khury's family albums: their wedding, the birth of their first child, Karen, her first steps, their son Cameron, his first tentative ride on a bicycle. The agent helped himself to randomly selected pictures of Ahmed, Catherine and their two children, and placed them into a plastic bag. He continued to pore over every photo album, and removed pictures of Ahmed and "other Arabs."

As another agent looked through each CD and DVD in the storage space in their television cabinet, the third agent removed pillows from the couches and looked in the crevices for more "evidence" that may uncover terrorist activity. The fourth busied himself with fixing listening devices to the lamps in the room.

Moving into the kitchen, the agents examined every drawer and cabinet, the interior of the refrigerator and even the oven. But their jackpot came in the den, which contained a desk and two computers. Two agents scooped up the laptop and PC, and took them to the van waiting outside.

The computers would be examined for any evidence of terrorist activity or money laundering. Every social network account of Ahmed and his wife would be monitored. Their bank accounts, securities accounts, and even their Facebook and email accounts would never be private again. No need to worry about changing passwords any more.

Each of the two guest bedrooms was thoroughly searched. Three agents breached the sanctity of Ahmed and Catherine's master bedroom, tugged on the bedspread that only their children had done before, and put their unwashed hands between the sheets where they had once made love.

Their "his and hers" closets were carefully examined. Every article of clothing had strange hands put on it, including the intimates in Catherine's underwear drawer.

"Found a cell phone," happily declared one agent, as he threw it into an evidence bag.

After the examination of the garage, the violation of the Khury's home was complete. The agents slipped away as quietly as they had come, without a hint of their presence left behind, except for the missing items of personal property.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Corporal Reeding strapped Ahmed's shackled arms and legs into the black and grey steel and vinyl restraint chair, and immobilized his head with a large black leather band, which he tightened like a belt buckle. Next to the chair, on a small steel tray covered with plastic and paper were an assortment of tubes, gauze and plastic bags, and a bottle of "Ensure" protein shake.

"What are you going to do to me?" asked Ahmed, in terror, as he wondered what kind of torture was in store for him this time, "I told you everything I know. I answered all of your questions," he added.

"This isn't an interrogation. You're going to be fed because you refused your meal."

"I wasn't hungry. What's going on Corporal Reeding?"

"You said you wanted to die."

"Of course I said that when I was being tortured! You would say it too!"

Reeding stepped back and a male Navy nurse stood in his place. Now, Reeding's job was just to observe. He had been put on force-feeding detail going on only three days, and the entire process disgusted him.

"Who are you? What are you going to do to me?" Ahmed asked the nurse.

"I am going to perform an enteral feeding procedure. We will pass a naso-enteral feeding tube through your nose to your stomach to give you the nutrition you need to survive."

"This really isn't necessary," said Ahmed. "I was just not hungry."

"I have my orders," said the nurse. "Would you prefer lidocaine` or should I lubricate the feeding tube with some olive oil?" he asked.

"I don't know."

The nurse opened a small package, lubricated the end of the feeding tube with its contents, and then shoved the tube into Ahmed's left nostril. Ahmed cried out in pain and choked on the tube as the nurse continued to push it through his nose, down his throat and into his stomach. Ahmed watched in horror as the tube was pushed further and further down his nose. He tried to move away from the intruding tube to expel it from his body, but he could not turn his head. He felt the tube scratching against his throat, and coughed uncontrollably until the tube came out of his nose.

The nurse dabbed Ahmed's bloody left nostril with gauze and again lubricated the tube with lidocaine.

"No, no, please don't! I will eat! I will eat!"