Detachment Delta (5 page)

“What?” the judge said.

Hair reached inside his dress greens, pulled out a small card, and read, “Your Honor, Presidential Decision Directive 25 grants Delta Force members ‘freedom from all legal accountability,' including exception from the 1878 Posse Comitatus Act—a statute imposing criminal penalties for anyone using the military for personal gain, domestic law enforcement, or unsanctioned covert operations.”

“Incredible!” the district attorney said. “Are you telling me that this guy can come in here and murder, decapitate, a member of our police force, and the president has granted him immunity, and we have to let him walk?”

“Not exactly,” Major Hair went on. “That is why we asked for you, Chief, to join us. The man he killed was a known terrorist. James Rashad was a member of the Black Panthers and later joined al Qaeda and has even met Osama bin Laden and al-Zawahiri both in Afghanistan, where he attended an al Qaeda training camp before the war started there. Years ago, he actually changed his name to Ibn Osama Rashad. When he went through the police academy, his entire biography and identification papers were all carefully forged by al Qaeda operators right here in New York City. Chief, we also are bringing you some experts from the Department of Homeland Security to privately assist you so nobody else can sneak into your department like this again.”

Major Hair faced the judge again, saying, “Your Honor, Sergeant Strongheart was assigned, as a singleton, a Delta operator working alone, to eliminate James Rashad, before he could carry out his mission, which was to acquire a Stinger missile and fire it at a jet taking off from Kennedy Airport, carrying a number of VIPs, including the mayor of New York City, heading to the national Mayors Conference in a little over a month. The Stinger would have taken out the entire aircraft. Additionally, Your Honor, his instructions were to ensure that the jet was over a major population area, so its destruction would cause additional loss of human life. I have brought documentation which is classified top secret and is for your eyes only as well as the chief of police.”

The district attorney said, “What about me?”

Major Hair smiled. “I am sorry, sir. The brass at US SOCOM headquarters have really stretched it by allowing us to reveal so much highly classified, sensitive material to so many right now, but we had to act fast to get a lid on this for national security. They felt that you did not really have a need-to-know to see all the written material we are showing the judge and chief of police. Your Honor, one of those burly men in suits who are with us has the material in a briefcase, if I may summon him in?”

Pouting, the district attorney walked to the coffeemaker and poured a cup.

Judge Silver said, “Please do, Major. Hair, is it?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

He walked out into the courtroom and hooked a finger toward the one of the men holding a large briefcase. One of the other men with him walked forward, too, but was stopped by the bailiff. He never said a word, but pulled a badge and ID out of his suit and showed them to the bailiff, who kind of gulped and nodded to him to proceed.

The two men entered the judge's chambers and walked up to Major Hair.

He said, “The documents go to the judge and the chief here.”

The man in the suit said, “Judge, Chief, if you will please look at the documents behind the desk and hold them so nobody else can see them. I am required to tell you that what you are about to read are documents that are classified top secret by the U.S. government and will be automatically downgraded at two-year intervals and will be declassified, unless otherwise noted, at the end of twelve years. Disclosure of anything in these documents to anybody for any reason can result in criminal prosecution in a federal court.”

The chief of police pulled a chair over next to the judge, and they started poring over the documents.

The judge stopped and said, “Summon the bailiff.”

Major Hair stepped through the door again and caught the bailiff's eye—well, actually everybody's eye in the dark-walled courtroom. He signaled him to the door.

The man walked up to him, while everybody in the courtroom, especially every local and federal law enforcement officer, was now totally puzzled.

The major said, “The judge wants to see you, sir.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” the bailiff said, walking past him.

Major Hair corrected him, saying, “Major.”

“Oh, sorry.”

They went into chambers and the bailiff said, “Your Honor?”

The judge said, “Tom, go back into the courtroom and let them all know we will be a half hour anyway, so if anybody needs a restroom break, they will have time. Also, tell the jailers I said to release the prisoner's handcuffs and restraint belt. He is to remain there, but remove all restraints.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” George Rooney said, smiling.

Now even the bailiff, who said, “Yes, Your Honor,” was puzzled as he walked back into the courtroom.

He relayed the judge's words to the jailers, and they both shrugged their shoulders and removed Charlie's handcuffs.

A murmur went through the courtroom and finally a loud, deep, angry voice in the back bellowed out, “What in the hell are you doing? He is a cop killer! Son of a bitch!”

All eyes turned to Bubba Dalton, red-faced, except for the bandaged nose and black eyes, and shaking with anger and total frustration.

Detective Brad Pitt walked over to him and quietly said, “Dalton, I have already written you up for last night. Now, if you want to get your Andre the Giant-looking ass booted off the police force, keep acting like a loose cannon in public settings. I also spoke to your sergeant. I am not having some out-of-control patrol cop ruining my busts with outrageous behavior. Now, do you have any questions, Officer Dalton?”

Bubba sat down and pouted in much the same manner as the district attorney, except without the coffee.

The DEA agents looked at the NYPD detectives and all just shook their heads.

No sooner had this occurred than the chief of police appeared in the doorway to chambers and summoned NYPD Detectives Brad Pitt and Dominic Fernella and DEA Agents Juan Atencio and Felix User. They got up and moved quickly to chambers.

At the door, the chief simply said, “The judge wants to speak to you guys.”

Dominic spoke as they moved past him, “Sure, Chief.”

In the courtroom, Virginia Hampton had already made up her mind she would go to her courtroom and ask that judge for a recess if need be to find out what was going on and what would happen to this Green Beret, whom she'd thought was irresistible before, but twice that in uniform, gay or not. She looked at his broad shoulders from behind and wondered what it would be like to have those massive arms protectively holding her.

In chambers the judge said, “Gentlemen, this court tries to do all we can to support all arresting officers as officers of the court. In most cases, we are in this together in a quest to get those off the street who would murder our citizens, fill them with drugs, and steal from hardworking members of the community. We are always also diligently protecting the rights of the accused, but today I wanted to privately take into consideration the hours of dedicated service you men and your colleagues have put into this case. When I render my decision out there today, I know emotions are running high, but there is way more to this case than meets the eye, and it is a matter of national security. Please trust that we know you are looking for closure, and maybe you will get it now that you have the surviving suspect in custody. I will tell you this, and I do not want one word repeated. Your colleague James Rashad was not worthy of wasting your emotions about losing. I ask that you will simply trust the judgment of the court.”

“Your Honor,” Sergeant Pitt said, “why don't they appoint you to the Supreme Court? I have never, ma'am, had a judge care enough about what we go through to explain her decision ahead of time in case it would go against us.”

She smiled, saying, “Thank your chief. He asked me to explain it to you.”

The chief blushed and the men, even the two feds, gave him a smile and a nod of gratitude.

The bailiff said, “All rise,” and the judge entered the courtroom.

The rest had previously entered and were seated.

The judge said, “Please be seated except the defendant.”

Charlie stood with his attorneys beside him.

The judge said, “I want the bailiff and court officers to physically check every individual in this courtroom before anybody exits. You are to check for recording or video devices, as well as cameras. I am issuing a very strict gag order on these proceedings. Nobody in this room is to mention anything that has gone on or goes on in this courtroom; that means do not discuss it with the press, or any media, your spouse, relatives, friends, coworkers, or anybody. This is a very important matter of national security.”

She then looked at Charlie and spoke softly, “Sergeant Strongheart . . . Oh, by the way, I want his name blanked out and replaced with ‘anonymous' in all court records, including the transcript. Master Sergeant Strongheart, this court and I myself personally, as the daughter of a Navy SEAL who served two tours in Vietnam, would like to thank you very much for valorous and extremely courageous service to our nation, and even the world in the Global War on Terrorism. I do recognize, sir, the DSC, Silver Star, and Purple Hearts you are wearing, and one alone is worthy of this nation's respect and undying gratitude. No laws have been broken in this case by the defendant, and based upon Presidential Directive 25, the defendant cannot be charged with any crimes anyway, so with consent and no objection of counsels for both the defense and prosecution, this case is dismissed without prejudice and all records of it are to be purged under the supervision of the U.S. Attorney's Office in Manhattan. Court is adjourned.”

Charlie smiled warmly at the judge. He then shook hands with Major Hair and George Rooney.

“This is bullshit!” came the scream from the back of the courtroom. “He is a cop killer! Are you all insane?”

The judge rapped her gavel sharply and started to speak, and like a little schoolchild, Charlie meekly raised his hand. Since this was such a mystery, with him at the center, his gesture caught everybody's attention. The judge smiled and nodded recognition to Charlie, who until now had not spoken.

He said, “Your Honor,” and he subconsciously touched his swollen black eye. “If it please the court, ma'am, I met this officer last night, and I think I can straighten this out, with your permission, Your Honor?”

The grin he gave the judge reminded her of the same grin she'd seen from her father several times in his life.

She said, “This case has been highly unusual, to say the least, anyway. Go ahead and speak to him, Sergeant. The court will wait.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

Charlie walked back to Bubba with an easy stride, while all eyes were glued on him. He walked up to the apprehensive behemoth of an officer and smiled. Charlie, who was taller than all in the room save Bubba, reached out and up and placed his left hand on the giant jerk's basketball-sized shoulder, and using it for leverage, he jumped up high and pivoted his right hip and shoulder in midair and smashed Bubba in the already broken nose with a vicious elbow. Bubba's eyes rolled back in his head, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Charlie turned and grinned at the judge, saying, “Thank you, Your Honor, I just had to speak in the only language he understands.”

Everybody just stared at him, and then Detective Sergeant Brad Pitt walked up to him and shook his hand, laughing his head off, while looking at the unmoving, nasty cop on the floor. Virginia was laughing, too.

The judge, grinning, just shook her head.

She said, “You probably should leave now, Sergeant. Bailiff, get that officer medical attention, and then when he is awake, take him to a holding cell for contempt of court. I will visit this with him later.”

IT
was late in the day, when Madeleine Cameron walked into Virginia Hampton's office carrying a bouquet of various colored roses with numerous stems of baby's breath adorning it. Virginia was shocked to say the least.

“Virginia,” Madeleine said, “there is a very striking gentleman here to see you, if he can, quote, squeeze in between appointments. He said to tell you that the roses are a peace offering.” She then scrunched up her eyebrows, saying, “And he said to tell you that he is not really gay.”

Virginia's face blushed, and she giggled like a school-girl.

She reached under the desk for her high heels and slipped them on, saying, “Maddie, give me about three minutes, then have him come in. How's my mascara?”

Madeleine grinned. “You look just beautiful as always, Boss.”

Virginia headed toward the small bathroom in the corner of her office and winked.

When Charlie entered the room, she had just brushed her teeth, her clothes, and her hair, and was ready for the challenge. She could not believe how much his shoulders filled out the doorway when he walked in, and what an appearance now, she thought. Charlie wore cowboy boots, tight, slightly faded but very clean jeans, a blue ribbon shirt with white polka dots all over it and small red, white, and blue ribbons streaming down. His long black hair was pulled straight back into a ponytail which actually went down below his shoulder blades.

Earlier, he had cleaned up and moved everything out of the apartments he had rented, leaving the keys in them. Most of his stuff was packed in his hotel suite, and a detail was coming in shortly to pick it up and transport all of it back to Fort Bragg. The detail was composed of two eager young sergeants who'd had to drop out of the Special Forces Q-Course, or Qualification Course, also called Selection, because of leg injuries, and had not earned their Green Berets yet, so now both wore burgundy berets, signifying their active airborne status. They both were trained Military Intelligence NCOs and had top secret security clearances already. They had to seal all of Charlie's boxes with tape and sign for each box with him. At Bragg, they would turn them in to the JFK Special Warfare Center Command sergeant major, who would in turn take them to the top secret C.A.G. compound at Fort Bragg, which previously had been called “the Stockade.”