by Kenneth Eade
“Objection! Assumes facts not in evidence.”
“Sustained. The jury will disregard the question. Mr. Nagel, please continue.”
“Sergeant Brown, after his suicide evaluation, did you, nevertheless, take any precautions to guarantee Mr. Khury’s safety?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What precautions?”
“The guards looked inside his cell approximately every one to three minutes to make sure he was okay.”
“And how long did this procedure continue?”
“Until he was found dead, sir.”
***
Corporal Brian Reeding took the stand, in his crisp dress uniform, looking very cool and collected. He was Brent’s best adverse witness, and Brent was counting on him filling in the blanks for the jury that had been left hanging from Sergeant Brown’s testimony. Brent took Reeding through a series of questions establishing his role at Guantanamo, and his position as head of the feeding team.
“Corporal Reeding, you made an emergency call to Sergeant Brown during Mr. Khury’s last feeding, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. I was new on the job and panicked when he coughed up his feeding tube.”
Brent felt like he had been hit right between the eyes with a hammer. Reeding had changed his testimony, but not so much so that it conflicted with his deposition testimony.
“Corporal Reeding, you understand that you are under oath, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that oath is just as serious and binding upon you as the oath you took when you joined the Army, do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Corporal, you testified in your deposition that you called Sergeant Brown because Mr. Khury was complaining that the feeding tube was hurting him and he subsequently coughed up the tube, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you thought that he may be in danger, correct?”
“Yes, sir, but I was wrong.”
“Move to strike after ‘yes, sir.’”
“Denied.”
“When you called Sergeant Brown, he cleared the room, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“By clearing the room, he instructed everyone but Nurse Benson to leave, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Corporal, you thought Mr. Khury was in serious danger, isn’t that correct?”
“I guess I overreacted.”
“Move to strike as non-responsive.”
“Motion granted. The witness will answer the question.” Corporal Reeding looked lost in thought.
“I can’t breathe! It’s in wrong!”
Ahmed choked. He couldn’t speak anymore. He began to cough incessantly, then spit up vomit and blood.
“Stop the procedure!” Corporal Reeding whipped out his radio and called Sergeant Brown.
“Sergeant, you’d better get down here, we’ve got a situation! What the fuck, man, he’s not breathing! You’re a nurse, do something!”
Nurse Benson looked confused and disoriented. He was in a panic. Ahmed’s head had fallen to his lap, and there was blood, vomit and Ensure coming trickling out of his mouth. Benson checked his pulse.
“There’s no pulse!”
“Do something, man!”
Benson tried to revive Ahmed. He and Reeding removed the restraints and set Ahmed on the floor. Benson gave him CPR. Each time he gave Ahmed mouth to mouth, more fluid came out, but it was no use. Ahmed was lifeless.
Sergeant Brown ran in. “Clear the room!” he ordered.
“Corporal Reeding?” inquired Brent, and Reeding seemed to snap back into consciousness.
“Yes, sir?”
“When Sergeant Brown cleared the room, he, Nurse Benson, and Mr. Khury were the only ones left in the room, is that correct?” asked Brent.
“Yes, sir.”
“Corporal, do you remember when you and I met in Miami?” Reeding looked like something had just hit him in the head.
“I can’t answer that question.”
“Your honor?” Brent implored.
“Objection, argumentative!” urged Nagel.
“Counsel, approach the bench please.”
Nagel, his second chair and Brent approached the bench.
“Mr. Marks, what is going on here?”
“He’s not being consistent with his prior statements, Your Honor,” said Brent.
“Well, you have his deposition transcript. Read it into the record.”
“I object to this line of questioning, Your Honor, it’s too prejudicial for the jury,” said Nagel.
“What’s your offer of proof, Mr. Marks?”
“I interviewed the witness in Miami, at his request, Your Honor, and his version of the story was very different than the one he’s telling today.”
“I’ll allow it. The witness cannot chose if he wants to answer a question or not. We’re going to break for lunch. I want you to consult with the defense, disclose everything that was said in the interview, and when the break is over, we go again, understood?”
***
At the break, Reeding joined Nagel at the counsel table. The entire gallery had dispersed, except for one young man in the far right corner. Brent made eye contact with him and the guy got up and left.
“Rick, somebody got to this guy. You’ve gotta find out what happened. He’s our best witness.”
“Dude, you’ve got to pull a Benedict Arnold on him.”
“I know.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
“And while you’re at it, there’s this strange young dude that comes in every day, like this case is some kind of a class project for him or something. He always sits in the back. Check him out too, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I know which one you mean.” Rick left the courtroom.
***
As Rick walked out, he recognized the young guy sitting on bench in the corridor. He looked about 25, and had a military-style crew cut. Rick caught his eye as he approached, and the guy averted his glance. Just as it seemed he would pass him, Rick took a seat next to him on the bench and started going over his notes. He looked up from them and smiled, and the guy forced a nervous smile in return.
“Do I know you?” Rick asked.
“Me? No sir, no, we’ve never met,” said the guy, squirming in his seat. He spoke in a Southern accent.
“You look familiar,” said Rick, messing with the guy’s brain. The guy glanced away and fidgeted.
“Don’t know why you’d say that.”
“Interesting case, huh?”
“Yes, sir, I guess.”
“What’s your connection to it?”
“Me? Nothing, sir.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Just thought it would be fun to watch.”
“Rick Penn,” said Rick, holding out his hand.
“Joshua Anderson. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Relax, dude, nobody calls me sir.”
“Force of habit, I guess.”
“Military?”
“United States Marine Corps.” The guy had wild eyes, and Rick really did have a funny feeling that he had seen those eyes before, but he could not place it. Little did he know that he was face to face with Balls.
CHAPTER FORTY
Rick came up with a big nothing in checking on Corporal Reeding, but there wasn’t much time during the lunch break to do any real investigating. However, Rick shared Brent’s hunch that someone had threaten or coerced Reeding into changing his story. Having no concrete facts, Brent had to fly by the seat of his pants.
“Isn’t it true, Corporal Reeding, that you have become more and more definite in your belief that you overreacted in the feeding room as time goes on?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Isn’t it true that, during your deposition, I asked you the same questions, and you did not tell me that you overreacted?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And as time has gone forward, you’ve thought about it many times, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how you think about it now is different than your first impression, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so, sir.”
“Who else did you discuss the case with after your deposition?”
“Sir?”
“Who did you discuss the incident with?”
“Mr. Nagel.”
“Who else?”
“My CO.”
“That’s Colonel Masters?”
“Yes.”
“What did you discuss with him?”
“I don’t recall sir.”
“But you do recall discussing it with me, isn’t that true, Corporal?”
“Yes, sir. And you promised me anonymity.”
Brent didn’t want to move to strike everything after ‘yes, sir,’ even though he knew it would be granted. He didn’t want the jury to think he was trying to hide anything.
“Since you’ve talked to Mr. Nagel, you know I was not bound by that promise, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You told me that you were concerned that things had gone too far at Gitmo, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You told me that you thought they were waterboarding in interrogations?”
“I don’t know if they were, I just heard it…”
“Objection, hearsay!” snapped Nagel.
“Sustained. The jury will disregard the answer. Too late, they’ve already heard it.
“And you thought they were dry-boarding, isn’t that correct?”
“Objection, hearsay!”
“Sustained. The jury will disregard the answer. Counsel, please approach the bench.” The judge was getting pissed, and for just reason.
“Mr. Marks, I let you have free rein, but I am not going to have a mistrial in this case.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor.”
“Please wrap this one up.”
Brent moved back to the counsel table, and then moved in for the kill. He had made a tactical decision. The jury could either believe that he was trying to manipulate the witness, or the witness was hiding something. He took the plunge.
“Before Mr. Khury’s last feeding, you had seen detainees cough up feeding tubes, hadn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you had heard them complain about the feeding tubes, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But this was different, wasn’t it Corporal? You thought he was dead, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You did, you thought he was dead, isn’t that true?”
“Objection, asked and answered.”
“Sustained.”
“You called Sergeant Brown because neither you nor Nurse Benson could revive him, isn’t that correct?”
“I don’t recall exactly, sir.”
“Sure you do, Corporal, you’ve been in action on the battlefield, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’ve seen someone dead before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And when you saw Ahmed Khury, slumped over in the feeding chair, with vomit and liquid and blood coming out of his mouth, you thought he was dead, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t sure if he was alright or not.”
“Move to strike as non-responsive.”
“Denied.” Brent had taken his shot, but it didn’t pay off. Time to move on.
“Thank you, Your Honor. No further questions.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
After a short break, it was Nagel’s turn to cross-examine Reeding, but he handed over the job to Joe Cicatto, his second chair.
“Corporal Reeding, do you think you overreacted to the incident in the feeding room with Mr. Khury?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“Corporal, you testified that this was a new detail for you, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What kind of a medical background do you have, Corporal?”
“None, sir.”
“No education in health care at all?”
“No, sir.”
“So when you thought Mr. Khury was in danger when you observed him coughing up the feeding tube, you didn’t really know if he was, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’re not qualified to make an opinion as to the state of his health at the time, are you?”
“No, sir.”
“And how long have you worked under the supervision of Sergeant Brown?”
“Almost a year now, sir. The entire length of my tour at Gitmo.”
“Sergeant Brown runs a tight ship, doesn’t he, Corporal?”
“Yes, sir, he does. He likes order.”
“So, upon his arrival, when he asked you to clear the room, did that surprise you?”
“No, sir, not at all.”
“It didn’t surprise you that he took Mr. Khury back to his cell because you were hysterical, isn’t that correct Corporal?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You had several occasions to speak with Mr. Khury during his detention, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“How many times did Mr. Khury tell you he wanted to die?”
“Several times, sir.”
“Upon hearing that from Mr. Khury, what, if anything, did you do?”
“I reported it to Sergeant Brown, and I recommended a psychiatric evaluation.”
“As a result, did Mr. Khury receive a psychiatric evaluation?”
“Yes, he did.”
***
Brent brought forth a multitude of guards, both male and female, who testified unemotionally and unaffectedly about the treatment that they had collectively inflicted on Ahmed.
Prolonged solitary confinement, sensory deprivation, and overstimulation were all terms that each knew well and each knew the purposes of the techniques. They testified how Ahmed was removed from his cell by teams of guards dressed in riot gear and flak jackets, and how he was routinely pepper-sprayed to subdue him so he could be thrown onto the floor and handcuffed. Several guards admitted that they had seen others “walling” him while hooded, as they were taking him in and out of his cell.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
James Benson, the naval nurse, continued the uniformed procession of witnesses, which was beginning to look like a military parade. As he took the witness stand, one would have thought it was the most uncomfortable seat in the world, and, for Benson, it probably was.
“Nurse Benson, how old are you?”
“I’m 25 years old, sir.”
“Nurse Benson, you are a licensed practical nurse, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you hold a certificate as such from the North Carolina Board of Nursing?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How long have you held that certificate?”
“Approximately two years, sir.”
“And did you receive training in enteral feeding?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where?”
“Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, sir.”
“How long did that training program last?”
“Three days, sir.”
“So this was a relatively new procedure for you when you fed Mr. Khury, isn’t that correct?”
Benson coughed, and poured himself some water. “Excuse me,” he said, and drank a sip. “Yes, sir.”
“And you were the nurse who last fed Mr. Khury before his death, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
Brent took Benson through the feeding procedure, as he did in the deposition.
“Nurse Benson, I’m going to play a video for you of a feeding of Mr. Khury that has been marked for
identification as Exhibit 36, and ask you if you can identify that the proper enteral feeding procedure is being used. Your honor, this video was obtained during discovery and is part of the official record.”
“Proceed.”
The old cliché that picture is worth a thousand words had obviously been coined before video was invented because video imparted a million words. As Brent observed the jury, he could see that every sickening detail of Ahmed’s force-feeding had crept under their respective skins, and was crawling there and festering, like a boil.
“Nurse Benson, does this video properly depict the procedure of an enteral feeding?”
“Yes, sir, it does.”
“And this procedure is performed at Guantanamo Bay Detention Camps without anesthesia, is that correct?”
“Well, we lubricate the end of the feeding tube with lidocaine, if the patient requests it.”
“You sometimes lubricate the end of the tube with olive oil, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. Detainees are given a choice between lidocaine and olive oil.”
“And olive oil is an acceptable form of lubricant in the enteral feeding procedure?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That is standard operating procedure, correct, to use either lidocaine or olive oil?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Both are approved by your command?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And showing you what has been marked for identification as Exhibit 37, can you identify this as an enteral feeding tube?”
“It looks like it, yes.”
“This tube is a little over two feet long, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And it all has to go in?”
“Yes, sir.”
Next, Brent had to lay the foundation for Dr. Orozco’s testimony, which ran the risk of losing the jury, due to the technical medical details. Brent put a chart on the easel and began to play “Bill Nye the Science Guy.”
“Nurse Benson, does the chart I am showing you, which has been marked as Exhibit 38, depict a simple diagram of the human digestive system?”
“It appears to, yes sir.”
“Now, in an enteral feeding, you would lubricate the end of the feeding tube, pass it through the nasal passages, through the esophagus, through the stomach, to the duodenum, the beginning of the small intestine, is that correct?” Brent asked, as he moved the pointer through the places in the diagram he was describing.
