The Accused (43 page)

The chief said he had personally inspected the tragic scene inside the house—after noticing what appeared to be American commandos fleeing the area. One of his squads headed over to the area of Chichén Itzá, the Mayan ruins, and arrived just as a U.S. Navy helicopter was picking up the commandos.

García then gave, in excruciating detail, a description of Carlos, his wife, and their two small children. He described the injuries, the blood, and the position of the bodies.

Again, trying to close off an area of cross-examination in advance, Les Forges asked the witness if any of the victims had appeared to be restrained or tied in any way.

“In no way whatsoever,” García replied confidently. “They were lying—the bodies—in disarray on the floor. In various positions. There were no ropes. Or chains. No restraints. Just the terribly mutilated, bullet-torn bodies. In fact, the horror of the scene actually reminded me of something else.”

“And what did it remind you of?” the prosecutor asked, her brow wrinkling in sympathy.

“It reminded me of a scene of human sacrifice. Horrible. Chilling.”

Then Les Forges moved in, focusing like a prowling jaguar.

“And on the listening device that was manned by your police officials, what, if anything, was heard?”

“We had detailed to the dish Sergeant Orlando Lidos, who speaks some English. As I drove up to the scene, he was positioned about a hundred feet from the house, with the dish pointed directly toward where the commandos had been firing from. The sergeant reported that someone who had identified himself as the ‘number-one man' said he would accept the ‘collateral damage' and had given the order to open fire.”

Will had expected that evidence to come out. The prosecution's office had the entire text of the Article 32 hearing, and the whole transcript had been received into evidence as part of the prosecution's case. There was very little he could do about that piece of evidence…except to ride out the storm.

“And did this ‘number-one man' say anything else that was picked up by the sergeant—that the sergeant heard?”

“Yes,” García recounted, “the sergeant was very excited and upset, and the minute I arrived he yelled out to me that he had heard the man
who sounded like he was in charge of the commandos say, ‘I know there may be civilian loss here—,' and the sergeant heard that right before the gunfire began.”

At counsel table Will leaned over to Caleb Marlowe and whispered, “Do you remember saying
anything
about ‘civilian loss' to the other members of your unit before giving the order to fire?”

Marlowe shrugged, wrinkled his brow, and then whispered back, “I don't know. Honestly, Will, I may have said something like that. I'm not sure.”

The attorney straightened up slightly and stared at his client in disbelief.

“Tell me you're kidding,” he said in a hushed, tense voice.

“I just told you—I
may
have said it,” Marlowe snapped back in a hoarse whisper.

Jacki had leaned forward from her seat behind and had heard the entire conversation between the two.

Will turned slightly and his eyes locked with Jacki's. They both had the same thought at the same instant.

Both lawyers were wondering if their defense was starting to resemble the Chacmool incident itself—a mission with the best of motives, carefully planned—but disastrous in execution.

When Les Forges concluded her direct examination Will asked for a five-minute recess, which was granted. He quickly huddled with his legal team and the lawyers from the CIA and the DIA. Turning to the two government attorneys, Will requested that they do some instantaneous research while he commenced with the cross-examination of García.

The two quickly exited the courtroom, cell phones in hand.

“Chief García,” Will began slowly, buying time, “let me go over, first of all, the photographs of the scene of the incident.”

With that Will retrieved the photos that the chief had identified and walked him through each of them.

Under the attorney's questioning, the witness admitted that none of the photos showed any close-ups of the wrists or hands of any of the victims.

“So, if we assume for the moment—just for the sake of a hypothetical—that the wrists of the four victims bore marks, abrasions, or cuts as a result of being tied tightly to their chairs—if that were correct,
since none of these photographs include a close-up of the hands or wrists, they would not show that—is that correct?”

García professed confusion at the question, and Will asked it again, breaking it down into separate questions.

After a moment's reflection, the chief answered.

“Well, yes…the photographs were not close-ups of the wrists and hands. But there's a reason for that. There was no reason for close-ups of the hands or wrists because we did not find the victims tied or bound in any way. Thus there was no reason to focus on those parts of their bodies. They appeared to have been hit with a heavy volley of shots—large-caliber bullets—their bodies were ripped apart—and they had fallen in a random way onto the floor.”

“And you had the bodies autopsied, did you not?”

“Yes, what was left of them,” García answered with a subtle sneer.

“I don't see the pathologist who did the autopsy in court today. I do not see him on the list of the prosecution's potential witnesses. And, in fact, when my office tried to locate him in Mexico, he could not be found. Where is that pathologist?”

“Our medical examiner is presently unavailable—I believe he is traveling to take part in a medical conference in Venezuela. If your office had asked me how to locate him, I'm sure we could have accommodated you—and allowed you to talk to him personally.”

“No doubt. I'm sure you would have been most accommodating,” Will replied. “But I did look at his pathology report. On the autopsy protocol.”

And with that, he presented a copy of the autopsy report to the chief.

“Yes, I have seen this,” the witness said. “And I believe this was in the documents that everyone has.”

“And there were no marks noted on the wrists or hands, is that correct?”

“That's exactly right.”

“Did you bother to look at the section under ‘physical examination'?”

“Oh, I suppose I did,” García said with a shrug.

“Well, the purpose of the physical examination section is to give a detailed, exacting description of each part of the body that was examined—and the results of that examination. There is no reference in this
autopsy report to an examination of the hands, wrists, or arms of the victims, is that correct?”

García took several minutes to look over the report, painstakingly reviewing each page. When he was finished, he looked up with a smile.

“There were extensive injuries for our medical examiner to account for. Amid all of the physical damage caused by the bullets, I'm sure he examined the wrists, hands, and arms, but perhaps it was an over-sight—perhaps he simply neglected to indicate that in his report.”

Then Will eyed the police chief and wondered if he should take a gamble. There was a question he wanted to ask. But should he ask it? He decided to wade in and hope there weren't any sharks in the shallows.

“Chief García, you say that your medical examiner is available to talk to me?”

“Most assuredly. We could have you connected with him.”

“And if I were to ask him this question, tell me how he would honestly answer it—‘Mr. Medical Examiner, was Chief of Police García present, standing next to you, during the entire autopsy?' ”

The chief squinted a little, half-smiled, and then answered.

“I suppose he would answer that I was. Because, in fact, I was present. That's not unusual.”

“No, I suppose it's not. But if I were to ask the medical examiner this question—and he answered truthfully—what would he say? If I were to ask him—‘Mr. Medical Examiner, was Chief of Police García at your side while you typed every word of your autopsy report, talking to you about its contents as you typed it?'—would he say yes? Is that how it happened?”

Les Forges rose to her feet and objected to the form of the question as confusing and asking for the state of mind of the medical examiner.

But Will brushed aside the objection and indicated he would immediately rephrase it.

“True or false—did you stand next to the medical examiner as he typed his report, talking to him about the contents of his report as he typed each page, each sentence, each word?”

García's head snapped to the side, and after pursing his lips as if he were chewing a small seed, he replied.

“I was present during the typing of the report. I resent your implications. I resent your derogatory tone.”

“And I resent, sir,” the attorney responded, his anger rising, “an autopsy protocol that misses a critical element and that is typed in the presence of a coercive police chief, and the fact that the medical examiner is conveniently absent from court. That's what I resent!”

Judge Korlov slammed the gavel down and rebuked Will firmly.

He gathered his thoughts and nodded and apologized to the bench.

Will then noticed that the lawyers from the CIA and DIA had reentered the courtroom. He asked for a sixty-second opportunity to speak with some of his team.

After conferring with them quietly behind the counsel table, Will returned to the podium.

“About that listening device,” he said, bringing to a close his cross-examination of the witness, “this is one of the most sophisticated such devices in the world, isn't that correct?”

Chief García broke into a broad smile and nodded proudly.

“That is absolutely true.”

“And did you buy this listening device through a covert surveillance organization located in Egypt?”

“Ah…I'm not sure about that…perhaps.”

“And this device was designed and built by the Russians, is that correct? In fact, designed by the…” and with that Will glanced down at the small piece of paper the two government lawyers had handed him—“…by the ‘Glavnoye Razvedyvatelnoye Upravleniye'—the military counterpart to the KGB?”

García squinted and moved his lips nervously before he answered.

“This is…yes, I've heard of that…I'm not sure why that is significant.”

“Only this. That the Russian black market has sold a handful of these—only a few—and two of them ended up in Egypt in the hands of the AAJ—and one of those ended up in the hands of the Mexican police. Can you contradict or deny what I've just told you?”

“I deny it. I deny it absolutely.”

“Then if you did not buy this from intermediaries in the AAJ, tell me exactly who you did buy it from, and the name of the person or persons involved in that transaction.”

“I can't remember that. I have a very high position as chief of the Federal Police. I attend to many details…complicated matters of police work. I can't recall that.”

“One of the most advanced pieces of surveillance equipment in the world, one which you are apparently very proud of—but you can't recall the circumstances of its purchase. Is that what you're saying?”

García twisted in his chair, straightening his uniform and a few of his medals.

“I'm saying I cannot recall. That is it. That is the end of it.”

Francine Les Forges jumped to her feet.

“Your Honors, I note that Mr. Chambers has not listed any names on his list of potential witnesses who could likely give information about this listening device. Thus, am I to presume, Mr. Chambers, that you are making speculative and wild accusations that you are not prepared to prove during this trial?”

“What I am saying,” Will said, addressing the tribunal, but focusing his eyes on Les Forges, “is that the United States government does not want to risk the lives of Egyptian informants who provided this information to the Central Intelligence Agency and Defense Intelligence Agency. It is enough that an honored and decorated member of the United States Marine Corps should find himself on trial for war crimes before this tribunal—but to cause the death of informants who are courageously assisting the United States in stamping out terrorism—that is a price we do not wish to pay.”

At the bench, Korlov looked at Judge Ponti, who was shaking his head and seemed to be chuckling under his breath. Judge Brucker remained expressionless but was listening intently to the ensuing off-mike conversation between the other two.

Then Korlov glanced at his watch, looked up at the clock on the wall, and indicated that the tribunal would adjourn for the day.

Len Redgrove scooted over next to Will and whispered, “What in the world are we going to do about this ‘civilian loss' reference they got into evidence?”

The younger attorney wanted to give a snappy, brillant reply, but he had none.