The Accused (16 page)

“And so you were transferred to the command of Colonel Caleb Marlowe, USMC?”

“That's correct, sir. Assigned to BATCOM, a special covert counterterrorism unit.”

Thompson's overexpansive description sent an electric charge through the courtroom.

Stickton immediately bent down and consulted in a hushed tone with his co-counsel, as Special Agent Brooks stretched over the table so he could listen in on the huddle.

Will quickly turned to Hanover and whispered, “I thought there was a restriction on any testimony relating to the military configuration of Marlowe's unit—or its actual identity. What's this ‘BATCOM' thing?”

His partner nodded vigorously and added, “I can't understand this—I can't believe that Colonel Stickton did not brief Thompson on this. I suggest we don't object.”

“Considering that we're only at a probable-cause stage here, I recommend that we
do
object,” Will countered. “We ought to err on the side of caution in terms of additional evidence coming in. This is a two-edged sword—it could cut both ways.”

But Hanover was insistent—no objection. Will complied, and the two attorneys leaned back in their chairs and waited for the trial counsel to continue.

Stickton stood straight up, with his fingertips resting lightly on the top of his table.

“If we may continue,” he said. “Let's move on. Corporal Thompson, were you involved in a military mission near the vicinity of a village in southern Mexico, in the Yucatán, known as Chacmool—code name for the mission, ‘Snake Hunt'?”

Thompson nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir, that's correct.”

“Who was your commanding officer?”

“Colonel Marlowe.”

“What time did you arrive at your position for the assault?”

“Sir, it was zero three hundred hours.”

“And what was the designated target?”

“Sir, our mission was to locate and eliminate four terrorists who were known to have participated in the attempted kidnapping of Secretary of Commerce Kilmer. Our intel had indicated that they had retreated through the jungle to a safe house on the outskirts of the village of Chacmool.”

“Would you please describe to this investigation the members of your unit, the weapons with which they were armed, and their positions at the mission site?”

“Well, sir,” the corporal began, “I set up in a concealed position under some brush and trees about seventy-five feet from the southeast corner of the house. From this position I could see the front of the house, which faced south, and also place fire along the east side of the house in case anyone tried to escape in that direction. I had standard-issue special-operations gear and was armed with an M203 grenade launcher mounted under an M16 rifle. To my left about ten or fifteen meters, and slightly to the rear of me, was Colonel Marlowe, hidden behind some cover. He and the rest of us were waiting for Chief Petty Officer Dorfman to set up the machine-gun position at the rear of the house before starting operations.

“The colonel was armed with a 9mm H&K MP5 submachine gun with silencer. About four or five meters to his left—directly south of the front door—was Master Sergeant Rockwell. His position also had good cover. He was equipped with a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun. He was also carrying an M72 LAW—a collapsible light antitank weapon. We carried it along in case we encountered any fortified positions.

“Swinging to the top of Rockwell's left about four or five meters was Staff Sergeant Baker. He was armed with standard-issue special-operations gear and concussion grenades, as well as a 9mm H&K MP5 submachine gun with silencer, the same as Colonel Marlowe. He was also behind cover—about a hundred feet south of the southwest corner of the house.

“Chief Petty Officer Dorfman, who was equipped with an M240G medium machine gun, was in the vicinity of the northwest corner of the house. He was moving to take up a position from which to cover the back—in case anyone tried to escape out the back door. From that position he would also be able to observe and cover the west side of the house while the assault team was inside.

“Sir, I guess I should add that all of the weapons, except the shotgun and the LAW, were equipped with some type of night-vision sighting device.”

Strickton moved to the next question. “What was your mission task?”

“Sir, to locate and eliminate the terrorists I just referred to.”

“And tell me,” the trial counsel asked, fingering a copy of the NCIS report in his left hand as he spoke, “what was the planned mission brief of this attack?”

“Sir, assuming there was no prior alert, no activity on the outside, then Master Sergeant Rockwell was to approach the front door, and if the front door was locked, blow it open. At that point he was to be followed immediately by Staff Sergeant Baker, who was to toss in a concussion grenade—and after the detonation, Colonel Marlowe was to lead Master Sergeant Rockwell and Staff Sergeant Baker into the building. Chief Dorfman and I were to maintain our positions and create covering fire if necessary from the outside—also, if there were any escapees through the rear or side of the house, we were to take them down immediately.”

“And was that plan executed?”

“Well, sir,” Thompson responded, tucking his chin down slightly, “not exactly.”

“And what do you mean by that? What happened, if anything, that prevented that plan from being executed?”

“Sir, we were interrupted by a lookout, who exited the building from the front and stood guard on the front porch.”

“And did that lookout fire in the direction of any of the members of your team?”

“Yes, sir, that's exactly what happened,” the corporal said, pointing to his bandaged shoulder.

“Question—you were hit by two separate rounds?”

“Yes, sir, but I was still conscious and able to fire.”

“Did your commanding officer, Colonel Marlowe, take any action to hit the guard first?”

“No, sir, that was not the order.”

“What was the order?”

Thompson shifted a little in his seat, tucked his chin down quickly, and replied, “The order, sir, was for everyone to open fire immediately—
to empty our clips into the lookout and into all aspects of that house. We were to kill everything in sight, sir.”

Will glanced at Stickton and knew that the coup de grace was coming. If the colonel was smart, he would put in one last line of questioning. One final dagger into the defense case.

“Tell me, Corporal Thompson,” the trial counsel continued. “In the intervening seconds between the time that the lookout fired in your direction and the time that Colonel Marlowe ordered the members of your unit to commence firing, was there any fire coming out of the building toward any of your positions?”

Thompson thought for a second and shook his head.

“No, sir, he fired a short burst. That was it. Then it was quiet.”

“And quiet for how long between the time that the lookout fired and the time Colonel Marlowe ordered your unit to hit that house?”

Thompson thought for a moment again.

“A few seconds—I'm not sure how many, sir.”

“More than two seconds?”

“Maybe, sir.”

“More than five seconds?”

Thompson shifted in the chair and glanced over at Colonel Marlowe.

“The questions are coming from this table, not Colonel Marlowe's table,” Stickton barked.

Thompson snapped his attention back to his questioner.

“Possibly more than five, sir, but I doubt it.”

“Corporal Thompson, who was the best marksman in your unit?”

“Sir, every member of the team is an expert marksman and sniper-trained. However, the last time we all fired for qualification, I had the best score.”

“Then you were the best marksman in your unit, is that correct?”

“I suppose so, sir,” Thompson replied reluctantly.

“Based on your past observations of your team's shooting skills, would any of you have much difficulty hitting a target the size of a quarter from one hundred feet out?”

“No, sir—we could actually hit dimes at that close a range.”

“But Colonel Marlowe never ordered you to take that lookout down—which would have been an easy task for you, right?”

The corporal's eyes gazed off in the distance for just an instant, but then he looked back at Stickton.

“The fact is, sir,” Thompson said, “Colonel Marlowe ordered suppressing fire down on that house, after taking out the lookout—I took that to be an order to kill the lookout first.”

“True or false,” Stickton demanded, his voice rising and filling the room, “Colonel Marlowe did
not
order any of you to take out that lookout with a single shot?”

“That's correct.”

“Had Colonel Marlowe ordered, from one hundred feet away you could have placed one shot in that lookout's head with relative ease under normal conditions—and no one inside that house would have been threatened.”

The corporal hesitated. His face tightened, as if he were about to hand a club to a pencil-pushing desk jockey who would use it to bludgeon his mentor and hero.

Finally he spoke up.

“I suppose so, sir…all of that is true, except—”

“Thank you, Corporal Thompson,” Stickton snapped. “That's all, Corporal.”

24

A
S
W
ILL STEPPED OVER TO THE
podium to cross-examine Corporal Thompson, he knew that his questioning would have to be limited, narrow, and very focused. He would have to show that it would not have been feasible for Thompson, after being hit, to have made an accurate single shot to take down the lookout. Thus, if Marlowe had given a more cautious order, it wouldn't have worked.

Further, the corporal was the youngest among the members of Marlowe's team—and perhaps the most easily led. If Will opened up a troublesome area by asking too-broad questions, the young man might inadvertently say something that would undermine the defense.

“Corporal Thompson, I'd like to direct your attention,” the attorney began, “to your testimony of a few minutes ago relating to the weapons being carried by the various team members. You testified that both Colonel Marlowe and Staff Sergeant Baker were carrying MP5 submachine guns with silencers. Are you qualified on the MP5 submachine gun?”

“Yes, I am—in fact, I usually carry an MP5 in the field. I was armed with an M16 and an M203 grenade launcher for this operation just in case we ran into an unplanned-for situation, sir.”

“So is it safe to say that you are an expert on the MP5?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Will got a pensive look on his face. “Corporal Thompson, I am not an expert on weapon systems, but it seems to me that if someone wanted to take out the guard who ended up shooting you, spraying the front of the house with automatic-weapons fire would be sure to alert those inside of your presence—is that so?”

Colonel Stickton was looking at Will with a puzzled expression.

Thompson hesitated. “But…you
wouldn't
be spraying the house with bullets, sir—the MP5 has a selector switch that allows you to fire either single-shot or fully automatic. So either the colonel or Sergeant Baker could have killed that lookout with one shot!”

Stickton was looking down at the counsel table, trying not to gloat. He was wondering why Marlowe had bothered to bring in civilian counsel if he was just going to help prove the prosecution's case.

“Now, back to the weapon you were carrying—if Colonel Marlowe had ordered you to take down that man with a single shot from your M16, you might have had the marksmanship to do that under normal conditions. I noticed that Colonel Stickton asked you about your ability to fire a shot under
normal
conditions, am I correct?”

“Sir, that's how the lawyer there for the prosecution put it—right.”

“But under the
actual combat conditions
at the time of the Chacmool incident, you had been hit in the shoulder and were seriously injured, is that correct?”

“Absolutely.”

“Considering the injury to your shoulder, would that not have affected your ability to take out the lookout with one shot—to absolutely take him down with a single round?”

“No doubt about it, sir.”

Will was gambling that Colonel Stickton would press the point that a left-shoulder injury wouldn't hamper a right-handed marksman. He knew he had set the trap. Now the only question was whether Stickton was going to thrust his hand into it.

It wouldn't take very long for Will to find out.

The trial counsel strode to the podium and spoke quickly and firmly.

“Is it correct that you were shot in your left shoulder?”

“Yes sir, that's right.”