High Crimes

“And before, when they were afraid about what he was going to do.”

“What span of time would you say these events took place over?”

“Five minutes, maybe. Maybe ten.”

“Ten minutes! You were able to see all of this, in the space of ten minutes — while, at the same time, you were doing some highly dangerous work that required all of your attention — that required, in fact, that you not divert your eyes from what you were doing or you might be killed?”

Hernandez stared at her with sluggish hostility. He seemed defeated. He didn’t reply.

“Unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head, and returned to the table.

“Objection, Your Honor,” Waldron shouted.

“Sustained.”

“Withdrawn,” Claire said as she sat. Tom reached around and squeezed her shoulder.

“Trial counsel, do you have redirect?”

“Yes, sir.” Waldron rose and stood squarely in front of his witness. “Colonel Hernandez, when you came back from El Salvador after this mission was over, you were subjected to a long and rigorous interrogation by the CID, right?”

“Right,” Hernandez said. He had the tone of a parched man who’d finally found a drinking fountain.

“Tell me about this investigation.”

“Man, they were always in my face. They were hardasses.”

“The investigators from the CID?”

“Right. They were doing all this good-cop/bad-cop stuff, and they wanted to polygraph me, and they looked like they were looking to hang me, too, along with Kubik. I figured, if I told them about the twisted stuff I saw Kubik do, they’d have thought I was part of it. Or, you know, why didn’t I stop it?”

“Why didn’t you?” Waldron asked reasonably.

“A crazy guy like that? No way you go near him. We’re trained to stay out of the line of fire, that’s our self-defense training. I knew he was losing it, and I wasn’t going to get in his way.”

“You thought they were going to charge you with the crime,” Waldron suggested.

“They always shoot the survivor.”

“But your thoughts weren’t just about saving yourself, were they?”

“I figured if this came out it would just blacken the army’s name even more. I didn’t want to hand that to these CID guys. I was hoping this would just die its own death, you know what I mean?”

“What about Kubik?” Waldron asked, leading egregiously. “I thought you didn’t much like the guy?”

“‘Like’ had nothing to do with it. We weren’t exactly friends, yeah. But I did train with the guy, and he saved my life not two months before — he pulled me back when I almost stepped on a mine in Nicaragua. He saw the trip wire before I did.”

“So you felt you owed it to him to, maybe, minimize his crimes,” Waldron said.

“Yeah. Then, at the 32, I thought I might get in trouble if I brought it up — like, false swearing or whatever it’s called. I mean, I’ve really been agonizing over this. But I finally decided I gotta tell the truth here.”

“Thank you,” Waldron said, satisfied.

“Defense counsel, do you have any re-cross?” Judge Farrell asked.

Claire cradled her chin in a cupped hand and thought a brief moment. “Uh, yes, Your Honor.” She rose. “Colonel Hernandez, you love the army, don’t you?”

He replied without hesitation: “Yes, I do.”

“How many times have you served with General Marks?”

“Several times.”

“Five tours of duty, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it a fact that, every time you served with General Marks, he was your immediate supervisor, and you even socialized with him after hours?”

Hernandez hesitated but a moment. “Yes,” he replied crisply.

“You’d follow General Marks anywhere, wouldn’t you?”

He paused for a moment, then gave her a steely stare. “I have many times, and I would again. The general likes to surround himself with people he can trust, and I know he trusts me, and I know I trust—”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Claire said.

“Your Honor,” Waldron interrupted, “where’s this going?”

“Yes,” the judge said, “enlighten me, counsel.”

“Bias, Your Honor.”

“Fine,” Farrell said. “Proceed.”

“Now, Colonel, why is it that we cannot find a single After Action Report on the incident of 22 June 1985 at La Colina, even a classified one?”

Hernandez gave her a look at once imperious and vacant. “Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Oh, we’ve looked high and low, Colonel,” Claire said. “In fact, Major Waldron has assured me — has given us his word as an officer and, further, as an officer of this court — that no such report exists. Are you telling me that you did not do one?”

“That’s correct. I did not do one.”

“Do you know of anyone else who wrote an After Action Report on the incident of 22 June 1985?”

“No.”

“Well, was there any other type of account you know of concerning this alleged massacre at La Colina on 22 June 1985?”

He paused. “I believed the CO did one, but I didn’t see it.”

“The CO being General Marks, then Colonel Marks?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “I have nothing further.”

40

The three attorneys sat at a table in a coffee shop in Manassas.