Brent Marks Legal Thriller Series: Box Set One - Brent Marks Legal Thriller Series: Box Set One Part 37
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Brent Marks Legal Thriller Series: Box Set One Part 37

"And you didn't know about his ties to al Qaeda, did you?"

"Objection," said Brent. "Calls for speculation."

"Sustained."

Brent was satisfied with Catherine's testimony. It looked like it had touched the jury, and nothing that Nagel did on cross-examination could change those emotions. Brent decided not to put Catherine back on re-direct. At break, he put his arm around her and led her out of the courtroom, where she immediately poured herself into the nearest bench and cried.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

It was dark when Brent pulled into his driveway. Just enough time to feed the cat and himself, go over his notes for the next day and sleep a few hours. When he opened the door he practically fell over the cat who had heard his car pull up and was waiting impatiently for her dinner. She protested vehemently.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Calico bounded off for the kitchen. Then the phone rang. Brent wasn't much of a phone person, and when it rang, it always annoyed him, especially after a day like today. It was Debbie.

"How did it go today?"

"Fine, first day of trial."

"Wanna come over?"

"Deb, I can't. I've got trial tomorrow."

"What, you're like a boxer or a hockey player or something? No sex before the big game?"

"Who said anything about sex?"

"I think I just did. Change your mind?"

Brent laughed, and looked down at Calico, who was angrily swishing her tail like she was swatting at a fly. "Can I bring my cat?"

"Honey, you can bring whatever you want."

"Okay, I'll be over a little later, but I can't stay long."

No sooner had he hung up the phone, but it rang again.

"Dude!" It was Rick.

"What's up? Have any leads on the four thugs turned up?"

"No, I just called to see if you wanted to grab a beer."

"Sorry dude, I just had a better offer."

"Better than me? I doubt that."

"I'm sure you can't do what I was offered. Maybe you can, but it would gross me out."

"Debbie Does Dallas?"

"Right."

"Go over there, fuck her and then join me at Sonny's."

"Now I know why you never got married."

"We've got trial prep."

"I've got real trial prep."

"So I just heard. Well, I'm sure your client will benefit from a happy lawyer tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Rick." Brent hung up the phone as the cat threatened to claw her way up his leg. He poured out a generous portion of dry food and she just sat there, looking at it.

"What? Are you kidding me?" Brent got a can of cat food, opened it, and mixed some of it with the dry kibble.

"Now are you happy?"

The cat sniffed at the mixture, hesitated, and looked up at Brent, who walked away.

Brent opened his eyes. He couldn't see anything. It was deadly silent. He tried to move, but was unable to move his arms or legs. He strained to breathe against the hood that threatened to suffocate him, and blocked out all sensation. All he could feel was his naked body against a cold concrete floor. He screamed, but could not even hear himself scream. In his panic, he bucked against his restraints, and felt the cold steel burning into his wrists. Suddenly, he could hear someone calling him from far away. It was a faint sound.

"Brent?" Brent rustled, and his startled eyes opened in terror. He felt tingling on his sweaty neck.

"Brent, are you okay?" It was Debbie.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Must have had a nightmare."

Debbie stroked his back to calm him down. "Go back to sleep."

"Can't, big day tomorrow. Sorry Deb, I have to go."

Brent got home about midnight, just long enough to take a shower, review his outline for the next day, and get to bed. It was all about getting the evidence in. The visit to Debbie's took an edge off the adrenaline cocktail he had been working on all day. Hopefully there will be no more nightmares, he thought.

He lay in bed, going over his notes, until he found himself reading the same line over and over again.

Then the alarm went off.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.

"The Plaintiff calls Sergeant William Brown as an adverse witness."

"Sergeant Brown, please step forward and be sworn."

Sergeant Brown took a seat in the witness box, which seemed to be too small for him. Under cross-examination, Brown outlined Ahmed's "processing" during his first six weeks at Guantanamo, as he did in his deposition, as if such things were completely normal, and only left out little things like waterboarding, dry-boarding, beatings, and mock executions.

Brent didn't expect to crack Brown, like Masters Mason, and get him to admit that Ahmed had died in the feeding room, and that he and Nurse Benson had covered it all up. But he tried his best to elicit any details that could be exploited by the testimony of others, or used in his argument. Presenting a trial was like working a huge jigsaw puzzle for the jury, where half of the pieces were missing. Unfortunately, what really happened would never be known.

"Sergeant Brown, when Mr. Khury was brought to Camp 7, he was chained, hooded so he could not see, his ears muffed so he could not hear, and his hands muffed so he could not feel, isn't that correct?"

"Mr. Khury was delivered by the Air Force wearing their standard issue equipment to ensure the safety of their personnel and the integrity of Camp 7, whose location is classified."

"Move to strike as non-responsive, Your Honor."

"Granted. Sergeant Brown, you must answer the question."

"I will rephrase it, Your Honor."

Sergeant Brown looked down at the one hooded and shackled detainee that had just arrived. He was sitting in the dirt on his knees, naked, his hands shackled behind his back, his head waving from side to side, starving for any input to tell him where he was.

"Only one Haji?"

"Yes, Sergeant," said the Corporal. "This one has been tagged as a high profile non-privileged combatant, sir."

"He looks like Stevie-fuckin' Wonder movin' that fuckin' head round like that."

The Corporal laughed.

"Let him sit here for a few hours. Then get him washed, searched and beard and head shaved. Do the standard cavity search. Make sure he's not hiding anything up his ass."

"Yes, Sergeant. Then what?"

"Then what Corporal? What do I do with shit I scrape off the bottom of my shoe?"

"I don't know, Sergeant."

"Throw him in the hole, Corporal."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Mr. Khury was issued a basic comforts-only package, which consisted of an ISO mat, one blanket, one towel, one roll of toilet paper, toothpaste and a finger toothbrush, one Styrofoam cup, one bar of soap, a copy of the camp rules, and a Koran."

"What about a jumpsuit, and a basic comforts package?"

"Corporal, did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Good, because I was thinking for a minute that you'd gone deaf, or, worse yet, that I'd gone dumb."

"No Sergeant."

"Throw this fuckin' Haji in the hole with nothing. Is that clear, Corporal?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Phase Two of Behavior Management was a program to isolate Mr. Khury and foster his dependence on the interrogator," Brown testified.

"How was that supposed to be done?"

"By exploiting his sense of disorientation and disorganization."

Sergeant Brown looked at Ahmed, hanging lifelessly from the pole after the mock execution.

"Looks like this Haji has pissed his pants."

"Yes, Sergeant," said the young private with the M16.

"We've gotta teach these Arabs not to piss in their pants. We're not a laundry service, are we, Private?"

"No, Sergeant."

"Save the jumpsuit for him for later. He won't need it now. Take him back and throw him in the hole. Lights out."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Mr. Khury was treated in the spirit of the Geneva Conventions," Brown continued in his testimony.

"But as a non-privileged enemy combatant, you were trained that the Geneva Conventions did not apply to him, isn't that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And that was according to your standard operating procedure, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were dogs used in Phase Two?"

"Yes, sir."