Terminal Justice (32 page)

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Authors: Alton L. Gansky

BOOK: Terminal Justice
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“I met a man by that name in Ethiopia, but I spent no time with him. I can’t even recall if I shook hands with him or not. He came into camp and left soon after. A.J. said he did on-site research. That’s all I know.”

“Let me fill in a couple of the blanks,” Stephanie said seriously. “Roger Walczynske is quite the world traveler. We have eyewitness observations of him in Colombia, Cambodia, Brazil, and a dozen other places. He seems to like troubled areas of the world.”

“If he works for Barringston Relief,” David interjected, “then I would expect him to be in such locations. Especially if it’s his job to gather information for future work.”

“Agreed,” Stephanie said with a weak smile, “but there’s more to it than that. It seems that wherever Mr. Walczynske has been, trouble followed.”

“What kind of trouble?” David furrowed his brow.

“Assassinations of military leaders, government officials, gang leaders, drug traffickers, and so on.” Stephanie leaned even more forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level. “All the events happened to unsavory people who could be linked to the very kinds of activities Barringston Relief battles: hunger, human rights, children’s rights, and so on. We can’t prove it yet, but we think that Barringston Relief, or at least a few people in the organization, are taking matters into their own hands.”

Shaking his head, David said, “You’re trying to tell me that A.J. and this Roger are taking action against people whom they perceive as the cause for human-rights violations. Is that right?”

“Exactly right,” Woody replied. “But that’s not the issue here. Personally, I think the world has been done a favor by having some of these people taken care of. That’s my opinion, you understand, and not the opinion of the FBI or CIA. The point is that someone in your firm, most likely the top man himself, is overseeing these operations and gathering whatever information is needed, even if that information has to be stolen. In this particular case, photos of Somalia were illegally downloaded from the CIA to help find whoever it was that killed Dr. Rhodes.”

“This is too implausible,” David uttered with exasperation. “At best this is pure conjecture. You’re impugning a man’s reputation based not on facts but on coincidence. There are huge gaps in your logic, gaps so large that not even imagination can fill them.”

“He, or at least someone in his organization, has motive, means, and opportunity,” Woody snapped. “We can’t tell you the details, but it took some pretty sophisticated equipment and knowhow to pull off that little hacking job. Barringston Relief has top-of-the-line computers and electronics. We know that.”

“So does IBM, MIT, a dozen defense contractors, scores of countries, and who knows who else,” David snapped as he leaped from his chair and began to pace.

“But none of them has as clear a motive,” Woody said. “Besides, we’re not attempting to convict Mr. Barringston or Mr. Walczynske
while we sit here in your living room. What we’re doing is asking for your help in proving our theory correct or incorrect.”

“I don’t see how I can do that.” David sat down again. “And I say that for several reasons. First, I think you’re dead wrong about A.J. Second, I’m the new kid on the block, and I’m still trying to find my way around. I can count on my fingers the number of people I can call by name. And lastly, I’m a speechwriter. I don’t have access to anything confidential. You need to get someone else.”

“You’re the only one we can trust,” Woody said. “It’s precisely because you’re new that we came to you. That and the fact that you used to be a minister.”

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Stephanie said. “To be perfectly truthful with you …”

“Haven’t you been up to this point?” David asked.

Stephanie was nonplussed. “I don’t understand.”

“You said that you were going to be perfectly truthful with me,” David replied firmly. “In interpersonal communication that’s known as a qualifier. It implies that up until that statement you have been less than truthful with me.”

“We haven’t, Dr. O’Neal, believe me.” Stephanie sounded hurt. “I know this is difficult for you. If you had agreed to help us too readily, then we would have thought we had made a mistake. The very fact that you are so resistant to what we’re saying is proof of your character. That’s why we chose you.”

“And the fact that I was a minister.”

“Yes,” Stephanie replied. “I was taught from the time I was a child that ministers could be trusted and that they were honest people. Not perfect people, but honest. Let’s face it, most ministers don’t go into that line of work for the money. They do it because they feel called of God to do His will and to help others. Am I wrong?”

David sat silently for a moment and wondered if she was attempting to manipulate him. “No, you’re not wrong.”

“Assume we’re right for a moment,” she continued. “What if A.J. or someone close to him really is breaking into CIA computers—and, by the way, if they can break into ours, they can break into anyone’s—wouldn’t you as an honest and upright person want to see that stopped? It is an illegal activity. It’s a felony and could fall into the category of traitorous activity. Whoever is doing this could be harming himself and others.”

“Still, I don’t see …”

Woody raised a hand and stopped David in midsentence. “Let me ask a question of you, Dr. O’Neal. It’s a bit philosophical, but I think you’ll see where I’m headed. Here it is: Is it ever right to do wrong?”

“What’s that have to do with—”

“Humor me this one time, Dr. O’Neal,” Woody insisted. “Is it ever right to do wrong?”

David exhaled loudly and then repeated the question in his mind. “The answer depends on your worldview, I suppose. Those who hold to situation ethics would say that one’s ethical paradigm shifts in accordance with varied situations.”

“Is that your view?” Woody prodded.

“No, of course not,” David replied quickly. “There must be a set standard for behavior that is absolute, otherwise any behavior can be rationalized. I’ve always held that the Bible is the only true standard by which to gauge a person’s behavior.”

“Does the Bible teach that wrongs can be right?”

“No, absolutely not,” David replied. “But the answer to your question is not that easy.”

“Well, then,” Woody said, “is it ever wrong
not
to do right?”

David didn’t answer. He recognized tricky and convoluted ground when he saw it. Any answer he gave here could be used as a tool to compel David to participate in the investigation. “What are you getting at?”

“Just this,” Woody said. “We have a set of guidelines that we as enforcement officers must follow. They’re the same guidelines that
every citizen in this country must follow. They’re our country’s laws. These laws are not perfect, but they provide a needed set of rules for civilized behavior. As one who understands the need for a standard of behavior, I’m sure you are aware of the need for social law. Someone in your firm may be—and I emphasize the phrase
may be
—breaking the law to right a wrong. We are not allowed the luxury of determining if the wrong they commit is justified or not. We must act because the law is being broken. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I do,” David answered.

“We need your help to uphold the law,” Woody intoned. “We suspect A.J. Barringston, but you might be right about his innocence. You may very well clear his name and keep him from becoming entangled in a legal mess that would sully his name and the work of Barringston Relief. If he is guilty, then you will help uphold the law of the land, the same law that makes us civilized. No matter how well intentioned the perpetrator is, he must not be allowed to do wrong even for the sake of that which is right. And for us not to pursue the matter would be like the man who does wrong by refusing to do what is right. Help us, David. Help us solve this problem.”

“I don’t know,” David replied quietly. Woody’s argument made sense and put him in a difficult spot. They were right about his moral character and calling. If someone was misusing the technology at Barringston Relief, and if he did nothing to help stop it, then he would be tacitly approving the crimes. Yet to become involved might mean betraying a trust. But shouldn’t there also be a loyalty to morality? Suddenly, David felt weary.

“Think about it, please,” Woody said softly. “Here’s my card; call me when you come to a decision. If you decide to help, I’ll tell you what you can and cannot do.” David slowly took the card. “Is it ever right to do wrong? Is it wrong not to do right? I’d be interested in hearing what you think.”

Woody stood and walked toward the front door, Stephanie
following close behind him. “Thank you for your time and the coffee. No need to see us out. Just think about all that we’ve talked about. Your country can use your help.”

David remained in his seat, unmoving but not unfeeling. His stomach was tight as if someone had just punched him. He felt angry, weary, honored, offended. But most of all, he felt confused.

When David attended Golden Gate Seminary in Mill Valley, California, he had an ethics professor, Dr. Linkhold, who delighted in challenging his students with difficult questions. More was the case than not that the class would erupt into spontaneous debate about social and ethical issues that had plagued thinkers for generations. The students, many too young and too brash to realize that simple answers usually came from simple minds, would proffer solutions after investing only a few moments thought. “The way I see it, professor,” some student would say in tones made heavy with pseudo-intellectualism, “there can be only one answer.” The professor would smile patiently, scratch one of his large wrinkled ears, and ask, “How can you see when you have failed to look at the problem long enough to recognize its origin or discover its nuances?” More discussion, often heated, would follow. In the end, the students would leave the class that day as full members in one of two groups. The first group was composed of those who were positive that their answers were right and beyond any real challenge. The other group was composed of those who felt confused and frustrated at not being able to find one simple answer to the ethical question. David was always numbered with the latter.

This evening David entered the debate again, but this time without the roomful of seminary students. This time he lay alone in bed, wide-eyed and sleepless, questions ricocheting around in his head. Is it ever right to do wrong? At first, he had been tempted to answer in the brash manner of the undisciplined students in Professor Linkhold’s class, but he knew that hasty answers came from hasty thinking and often led to immense error. The purist would
answer strongly that it is never right to do wrong. But don’t we do that all the time?

Once David’s former wife, Carol, had come out of the bedroom sporting a new outfit she had bought at a department store in Mission Valley. She paraded down the hall and into the living room like a model on the runway of a fashion show. To David, it was quite simply the ugliest outfit he had ever seen. David was no fashion plate himself, but he knew enough not to mix yellow and green into any form of stripe or pattern. She asked, as David knew she would, if he liked it. No, David didn’t like it. He found it revolting, ill designed, gaudy, garish, and more. The question left him in a bind. Technically, if he said yes he would be lying. If he said no he’d be running the risk of decapitation. He chose the former answer, rationalizing that he had spared her feelings. Hadn’t he committed a wrong to do a right?

Perhaps, but the question Special Agent Summers had asked David went far beyond an untruth told to avoid a spousal conflict. It went to the heart of his suspicions that A.J. was involved in illegal activities and that his involvement might be driven by his desire to alleviate sorrow and pain. It was one thing to tell an untruth about someone’s appearance and quite another to commit a crime against one person to save another. Is that what A.J. is doing? Is he capable of harming someone?

It was a hard question, and as Professor Linkhold used to say, “Hard questions lead to other hard questions until all that your reasoning has achieved is a Gordian knot.” David hadn’t known what a Gordian knot was, so he looked it up in an encyclopedia in the seminary’s library. He discovered that the phrase was named after King Gordius of Phrygia who tied an extremely complex knot that none could untie. Alexander the Great, prompted by an oracle that promised that whoever could undo the knot would be the next ruler of Asia, attempted to untangle the puzzle. He failed, so Alexander simply cut it with his sword.

That’s what David needed, a sword with which to cut through
the problem. The only sword that he had found that could cut through the problems of life had been the Bible. Reaching for the Bible that he kept on his nightstand, he began to read at random, looking for an example to follow, a command to commit to, or some bit of wisdom to guide him. Minutes dissolved into hours as he lay with his head propped up on the pillow reading. He read through Proverbs and a dozen psalms before he drifted off to sleep, the Bible resting on his chest.

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