Court Martial

by Donald E. Zlotnik

  “We have visitors.” Mary saw the men on the back deck and pointed. Spencer had been lost in one of his personal thoughts—a growing fear that he would fall too much in love with Mary and then lose her.

  “What did you say?”

  “Visitors… on the back deck.”

  Spencer squinted and stared at the small figures standing in the shadows of the cabin. He raised his hand to his forehead, trying to block out the bright sun breaking over the tops of the trees to the east. “Are you expecting anybody?”

  “No. Daddy leased the cabin to the CIA for the summer.” Mary eased closer to Spencer. “Maybe they brought in some more FBI agents.”

  “Might be… some of them are wearing dark caps.” Spencer squinted harder but couldn’t make out much more until they got closer to the cabin. “Come on. We’ll find out soon enough....1’m not liking this at all!” He was becoming angry. “We were supposed to have some privacy!”

  “Take it easy, Spencer Barnett! Let’s find out what they want first.” Mary had to take a few running steps to keep up with Spencer’s brisk pace. “Slow down, Spencer Barnett, or I’ll never talk to you again!”

  Spencer caught himself and waited for her to catch up. He noticed that two of the figures on the porch were facing his direction and leaning against the back railing. One of them was wearing a dark cap and the other stood ramrod straight.

  The closer they got to the deck, the faster Spencer walked until he was nearly dragging Mary by her arm. When he saw the light flash off the silver skulls on the black Marine fatigue caps, he knew for sure who was on the deck.

  “Mary! It’s Sergeant Arnason.…” He recognized the soldier standing next to Sergeant Arnason and cried, “And… and David Woods!” Spencer let go of Mary’s hand and ran to the steps leading up to the deck. He was greeted by a pair of wide smiles.

  “Going for a morning walk or pretending that you’re still a recon man?” arnason broke the emotional deadlock.

  “Arnason!” Spencer raced over and grabbed his hand. “What a surprise!”

  “Yeah… we figured we’d better stop in and check you out before you got into a lot of trouble back here.” arnason waved his open hand across the deck. “This is a hospital?”

  Spencer grinned and hugged his teammate. “Dave… man, is it good seeing you!”

  “Believe me, the feeling is mutual. We just got off a mission in Laos....” Woods glanced at the woman standing alone at the head of the stairs.

  Spencer looked back over his shoulder and his face turned red with embarrassment. “Mary… I’m sorry!”

  “That’s okay… introduce me.” A slight edge of jealousy was in her voice. She didn’t like sharing Spencer with anyone and it was obvious that these men meant a lot to him.

  “This is my team sergeant, Dwightarnason… and my best friend from Vietnam, Sergeant David Woods.”

  Woods cut in, “Very good. Spence, you remembered—sergeant… that’s me.”

  Spencer hooded his eyes and grinned. “Bite my ass… Sergeant!”

  “And who’s this” Mary looked over at the master sergeant who stood quietly in the shadows.

  Spencer noticed him for the first time and his breath caught in his throat. “Sergeant McDonald?”

  “Yeah, boy. That’s me.” The NCO stepped out from the shadows and she saw the green beret on his head.

  “What are you doing here?” Spencer was shocked.

  “James’s trial… I’m a witness.” The older man walked over to the railing and the light reflected off his face from the sun coming up over the roof.

  Mary’s breath stuck in her throat. She couldn’t believe how much the sergeant and Spencer looked alike… almost like father and son.

  Spencer held out his hand as if he was going to shake and then changed his mind and hugged the soldier. “Man, have I missed you. I didn’t even have a chance to thank you!”

  “For what?” the burly Green Beret sergeant said over Spencer’s shoulder as he hugged the young man.

  Arnason winked. He knew how much McDonald meant to Spencer, and so did Woods. The man was Barnett’s father figure, and both of them had figured out that it was a mutual feeling.

  “For busting my ass loose from that POW camp!” Spencer hugged harder.

  “You’re making me jealous, Spencer Barnett!” Mary came to the rescue.

  McDonald smiled. “I need a drink after all that hugging shit!”

  “Through the French doors and on your left.” Mary pointed to the deck doors that led to the den and bar area.

  “Thanks.” McDonald entered the den. He needed the break. The whole scene was becoming too emotional. No one knew how much Spencer looked like his son who had been killed in a car wreck when he was only thirteen. That had been his initial attraction to Spencer and it had grown. McDonald saw the oak bar and poured himself a half-glass of booze from one of the cut-crystal decanters. He hoped he had selected bourbon by the color of the liquid, but it turned out to be a very good brandy. He drank it anyway and looked back outside through the large-paned windows atarnason and Spencer talking. The young soldier’s mouth was curled at the edges in a constant smile that forced anyone talking to him to smile back.

  Mary entered the den through the French doors. “I see you’ve found it.”

  “Yes, thank you. It’s a bit early for drinking, but I’ve had a long trip and my system is still operating on Vietnam time.”

  “No problem.” She nodded back over her shoulder. “They are really close, aren’t they?”

  McDonald sensed the jealousy. “War has a way of bringing men together… close.”

  “I know… but it makes me jealous.”

  “You’re honest.” McDonald held up his glass and toasted the nurse,” Cheers! That’s rare nowadays.”

  “I love him… Sergeant McDonald.”

  “If we’re going to be friends, how about calling me Jeremiah or Jerry.”

  “I like Jeremiah—it’s a powerful name.”

  “I can see that you’re very special to Spencer. He needs a woman who he can love right now in his life.”

  “Right now?” Mary’s voice turned cold. “What about later?”

  “Spencer’s the kind of person who loves totally. He wouldn’t ever recover if you left him once he loved you.”

  “I know.”

  “How?”

  “Just by the way he acted on the deck. When he saw you standing back by the steps and he realized he had left you for his friends, he looked like a man who left his house to go to work without his pants on.”

  Mary threw back her head and laughed. If only the sergeant knew how close they had come to catching Spencer without his pants on. “I guess you’re right. A man needs male friends too.”

  “Good ones.” McDonald sipped the brandy and then held the glass up to the light. “Good stuff.”

  The door opened and Spencer stuck his head inside. “What’s going on in here? I heard laughing!”

  “You’d better keep a better eye on this young lady, boy, or you’re going to lose her!” McDonald finished his drink and set down the glass. “I’ve got to go unpack. The Agency is putting us up here for a couple of days.”

  “Great!” Spencer was genuinely happy.

  “Spence!” Woods called from outside.

  “Mary, I’ll be on the deck for a while if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure! Have a good time until lunch!” Mary winked at McDonald. He was right: she had nothing to fear from his war buddies. No one would take Spencer Barnett away from her.

  Woods stood near the redwood railing holding his hand behind his back.

  “Whatcha got?” Spencer smiled.

  “Guess.” Woods held out his free hand to keep Spencer away from him.

  “Don’t fuck with me! Whatcha got?”

  Woods brought his hand out from hiding and Spencer’s eyes clouded. “We thought you might still want this....”

  Spencer took the black-dyed Marine fatigue cap and turned it
around so that he could read the tag sewn across the front above the silver skull: RT BAD NEWS.

  “Naw... I don’t wear shit like this anymore.” Spencer pretended that he was going to toss the cap over the railing and then started laughing. “I love it!” He slipped it onto his head. “Where did you find it?”

  “When we went back to search for you after the …” Woods felt the emotion building up again and skipped over the capture of Barnett by the NVA. “Your backpack was hidden under some bamboo. The cap was still in it, so I thought I’d better bring it back or you’d be pissed at me.”

  “You bet your ass I would have been pissed!” Spencer tried frowning.

  “Who are those guys?” arnason pointed at the two FBI men walking up the jeep trail toward the cabin.

  “Bodyguards. FBI types.” Spencer shook his head.

  “Up here?” arnason felt nervous when he saw the rifle over the shoulder of the agent. “Armed?”

  “Yeah… They think some of James’s friends are going to try to kill me! I wish they would try!” Spencer let his anger show.

  Arnason looked at Woods, who frowned back. It was getting much more serious than they had suspected. Woods was glad that they had smuggled two of their silenced .22 caliber pistols back to the States with them. At first he didn’t think it was a very good idea, but now he was very glad they had done it. If the FBI thought there was a threat, there probably was one.

  All five of the men sitting in the small conference room were black. The only thing that distinguished one of them from the rest was the wrinkled set of olive-drab fatigues he was wearing and the leg and arm chains. The other four men were dressed in very expensive tailor-made suits.

  The soldier in chains spoke. “I don’t care what the Supreme Minister says!” He stood up and shuffled over to the window, which was covered with a heavy screen. The smooth bolt heads were on the inside of the window frame, indicating that the screen was intended to keep people inside the building.

  “Master Elijah is personally involved!” said the oldest man in the room.

  “I don’t care who’s involved as long as I get out of here!” Specialist James spun around from the window and faced the four lawyers.

  “That is impossible!” The senior lawyer lit a cigarette and offered it to James, who nodded. One of the junior lawyers carried the burning Kool over to where James was standing and put it in his mouth. The wrist chains were attached to a wide leather belt around his waist that prevented him from lifting his arms more than a couple of inches. “Can you have these damn chains removed!” The sentence was more of an order than a plea for help.

  “You’re the reason they’re making you wear them. If you hadn’t tried beating the guard with your shoe…” The lawyer looked down at James’s stocking-covered feet.

  “Don’t make excuses! Do something for me besides make fucking excuses!” The cigarette in James’s mouth bobbed up and down when he spoke.

  “Nobody is making excuses!” The senior lawyer was becoming very angry. He really didn’t want the no-win case, but the Supreme Minister had personally called and asked him to represent James. He was obligated to the Black Muslims in more ways than one. “Master Elijah personally sent Brother Karriem and…” The lawyer looked around the walls of the room for a listening device. They were in a private briefing room that had been set up for James to talk to his lawyers, but the black lawyer didn’t trust the military, especially when the charges against James were considered. He nodded at one of his associates and the man opened his briefcase and turned on a small electronic box. “I feel better now.” The senior lawyer smiled

  “What the fuck is that?” James nodded at the black box in the briefcase.

  “A modern device that prevents eavesdropping. Now listen to me, Mohammed James, because I’m only going through this one time.” The tone of the senior lawyer’s voice had changed. “You are very dangerous to the Nation—”

  “Me?” James interrupted.

  “Shut up and listen!” The senior lawyer’s voice became extremely threatening. He nodded at one of the lawyers who had accompanied him to the military stockade that had been converted from a training POW camp at the Green Beret training area. The man unbuttoned his suit jacket and flashed a pistol in a shoulder holster at James.

  “They didn’t search you?” James was shocked.

  “They wouldn’t dare search your lawyers! The Army is scared shitless over this case.” The lawyer placed his laced fingers on the top of the worn gray table. “We are going to exterminate the top three witnesses who can testify against you.”

  “Are you going to kill Spencer Barnett?” James’s voice rose.

  “We are going to kill you, if you interrupt me one more time!” The lawyer growled his words. He was becoming sick and tired of James’s interruptions. “You seem to think that because you are a Death Angel you are more special than the rest of us!”

  “I have twenty-three kills!” James hissed the words out between his teeth. His lips trembled and the long ash on his cigarette fell to the floor and burst apart.

  “We all have kills.... Every man in this room is a Death Angel. I just happened to be fortunate enough to be selected for law school and the Brotherhood was kind enough to ensure the money was there to pay my tuition.... You think that twenty-three kills makes you special?”

  James nodded and glared at the lawyer.

  “Brother Karriem…” he nodded at the huge black man posing as a lawyer,” has over eighty kills, and Brother Hassen has past fifty already.” The smile on the lawyer’s face was evil. “I have a considerably larger number than twenty-three, and that number isn’t all devilbeasts.… I kill enemies of our Nation.”

  James finally understood.

  The lawyer saw the change in James’s expression. “Good! I knew that eventually you would understand. We will kill Barnett and the other two for you, but if that fails to prevent the military from court-martialing you…”

  James nodded. He understood what he would have to do without the lawyer’s saying it: suicide. “I’ll do it, if I have to.”

  The lawyer tolerated the interruption. “Fine… as long as we understand each other. You cannot be tried.”

  James looked at the man who had given him the cigarette and with his eyes pleaded for another one. The senior lawyer nodded and the man obeyed.

  “Did anyone ever see you eliminate a devilbeast?” The lawyer stared at James’s eyes, looking for even a hint of a lie forming there.

  James frowned in thought before answering. “No… only brother Death Angels.”

  “That is excellent. I can’t see them being able to do anything, especially after the hearsay witnesses are dead. There won’t be enough of a case to start the court-martial.”

  “When are you going to kill them?”

  “Soon… very soon.” The well-dressed senior lawyer stood and straightened his silk shirt. “I’ll be back here the day after tomorrow with the good news.”

  The five black men smiled at one another. They were very good at what they did best—killing devilbeasts.

  The old grandfather clock chimed twice in the hallway. Mary rolled over and reached out for Spencer. She felt his bare chest and smiled in her sleep. Spencer lay on the bed with his fingers laced behind his head. He watched the clouds cover the full moon and then move on to allow the bright light to cover the ground. He felt like going for a late night walk in the meadow to watch the deer. Spencer gently removed Mary’s hand from his chest and eased out of the bed. He stepped in front of the window and picked up his Levi’s from a nearby chair. The cool denim felt good against his bare skin. It was chilly outside in the mountain air, so he opened the closet door and removed a yellow-and-black-checked shirt from a hanger. It was too big for him and he had to roll up the sleeves before slipping his Levi’s jacket on over it. He left the bedroom carrying his western boots in one hand.

  Spencer walked down the hallway next to the wall so that he wouldn’t make the floorboards sq
ueak. He didn’t want to wake up the rest of the people, especially the FBI agents. He knew that one of them would be pulling guard duty near the communications system they had installed, so he avoided the kitchen. The strong smell of freshly brewed coffee reached him at the bottom of the stairs. Staying in the shadows away from the light coming through the kitchen doorway, he eased into the den.

  “Sneaking out, Spence?”

  Spencer whirled around. “Shit! You scared me.” He dropped down in a wing chair across from the man sitting in the shadows. A sliver of moonlight sparkled off the crystal glass he held resting on the arm of the chair. “What are you doing up so late?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.... I guess I’m still on Vietnam time.” The man lifted the glass up to his shadowed head. “Arnason and Woods are on the back deck.”

  “Why did you guys let me sleep?”

  Sergeant McDonald smiled but only a faint white glow came off his teeth in the dark room. “We didn’t think you were sleeping up there.”

  Spencer smiled. “Tonight I was.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I felt like taking a walk.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  “No… I’d like that.”

  McDonald stood and the moonlight slipped across half of his body. He was wearing a set of tiger cammies.

  “Why the cammies?”

  “Comfortable, I guess.” McDonald drained his glass and reached down next to the chair. His hand came back holding one of Mary’s father’s shotguns. “I don’t think they’ll mind if we borrow this for our walk… would they?”

  “Naw… if it makes you feel more comfortable.” Spencer didn’t need an explanation. He knew how naked he had felt in the hospital without a weapon nearby. “Did you find any shells?”

  “Yes, there were a couple of boxes of slugs in the gun cabinet and three buckshot rounds.”

  Spencer could see the outline of a Remington ammo box in McDonald’s back pocket.

  “Is there an agent on duty in the kitchen?” Spencer nodded in the direction of the strong coffee smell.

  “He’s outside in front.”

  “Who made the coffee?”

  “I think Arnason did.”