Afghan Sunset: A Jackson Pike Novella

by Patrick Adams

  The lawyer strode across the room to a tall easel which was covered with a blank piece of paper. He flipped the page.

  "This is a satellite photo of the facility the morning after Operation Afghan Sunset." He paused and pointed to the main compound. "As you can see, the facility is completely destroyed. The FA/18 airstrike devastated the entirety of what remained of any sort of evidentiary support for your claims."

  He paused.

  "At least, the airstrike destroyed the main compound. The school was left intact."

  He flipped the page again. The photo that LCDR Meyers had shown me on day one was blown up, the bodies of the children laying dead across the concrete floor of the school, shot execution style.

  I shuddered.

  "Do you recognize this photo, Lieutenant?" The lawyer asked as I shook my head.

  "I recognize the photo." I replied. "My attorney provided me a copy in the Brig."

  He nodded and sidled slowly up to rail that divided the stand from the rest of the courtroom.

  "Did you and your men ever enter the school?" He asked.

  "No." I replied, unblinking.

  He turned away and flipped through more charts. More photos of the devastation. Of dead children.

  My response never changed. This back and forth went on for half an hour until the tall and thin Marine prosecutor returned to his desk. "I have no further questions at this time."

  My attorney nodded. I'd apparently performed well.

  Now came the hard part.

  Chapter 22:

  I took a deep breath as my attorney approached the witness stand.

  "Lieutenant Pike," he said pausing for effect, "Did you or any member of your team enter the school in the compound at any point during Operation Afghan Sunset?"

  "No." I answered, already tired of the question.

  "Really? Can you prove that?" He continued.

  "No, sir." I answered, wondering where he was going with this line of questioning. I thought he was my lawyer.

  "And why is that?" He asked, winking ever so subtly as he did.

  "Communication broadcasts and helmet cam footage were unavailable for this mission." I replied, beginning to see the brilliance of his line of questioning.

  He turned to the judge and the prosecutor in turn. "Unavailable? I thought it was standard procedure to record all missions for training and intelligence purposes. Were you men not provided with a standard pack?"

  "We were, sir. But it was different equipment. Non-recordable. And the AWACs were ordered to broadcast a live feed to an undisclosed location without recording the operation."

  I glanced at the JAG officer again as Chief Jones sat in stunned silence.

  My lawyer nodded and walked to the defense table where he pulled the classified folder from his briefcase.

  He took a deep breath. He was risking his career by bringing TOP SECRET information to the court without approval.

  "I have here a copy of the OP order for Operation Afghan Sunset. I request that this be entered into classified evidence. The highlighted sections clearly show that this mission was authorized at the highest levels, and that normal electronic record keeping was suspended."

  The judge turned a bright shade of red momentarily.

  He reached out and took the folder from LCDR Meyers. "This is highly irregular." He glanced at the folder. "And TOP SECRET."

  Meyers nodded. "Captain," he replied, "It is our intent to prove that the team was sent into a firefight with flawed intelligence and non standard equipment in order to cover the tracks of a secondary covert operation which resulted in the child fatalities."

  The judge flipped through the file before looking back towards the two SEALs whose fate rested in his hands during this Article Thirty-Two Hearing.

  He took a moment, before closing the file and responding. "So far, this is all circumstantial. What other evidence do you have to support your claims that this crime was committed by other than Lieutenant Pike's team?"

  "Yes, sir." He replied, pausing.

  "This evidence is only hours old, but NCIS found an eyewitness to the events. A young boy. I have a transcript of his testimony. I will read one segment and offer the statement for inclusion into the official case file."

  He cleared his throat. "They were Americans," he began, carefully reading the young boy's testimony. "But they were dressed like Afghan citizens."

  He read from the report slowly, purposefully. "They were wearing the traditional local clothing, and were heavily armed. They came in the middle of the night. They pulled the boys from their beds and lined them up in the center of the schoolyard. They shot them all."

  LCDR Meyers paused again. Resuming the report

  "I was hiding. I was crying but they didn't hear me. Then I ran for the outside. To the hills. I waited there all night. Afraid to move. Hours later, the airplanes came."

  The judge nodded. "Again, circumstantial. The men were speaking English. That points to the SEAL Team."

  My lawyer nodded. "I have here the medical examiner's report from the six SEALs killed that night. All of their uniforms were covered in residue of cordite and gunpowder."

  The judge nodded.

  He realized now what we had earlier.

  "If the men had been wearing the disguises, they wouldn't have been covered in explosive residue."

  My attorney nodded.

  "This is all very disconcerting, the judge stated after a few moments.

  "Between the report that you have highlighted and this child's testimony, it is starting to look more and more like the SEALs were set up to fail."

  He shook his head.

  The prosecuting attorney stood and paced towards the bench.

  His face was a mask of calm. Every inch the Marine Officer, he stood tall. "Sir, I request a recess to review this new evidence and recommend disposition of this case."

  The judge nodded. "I think that is an excellent idea. We will reconvene tomorrow morning."

  I sighed and stood, walking towards my attorney. I nodded as the MP took up position beside me and began to escort me back out the door to the waiting government vehicle outside.

  Chapter 23:

  Dinner at the Brig was brown mush.

  It tasted like gravy. They called it Salisbury steak.

  "You going to eat that?" Pete Rogers asked as I peered around the room.

  I shook my head and he turned hungrily to the tray of half eaten mush.

  "How can you eat that stuff, Pete?" I asked as I tried to look non-chalant and relaxed in the dining hall.

  He just shrugged.

  I hadn't seen the chubby guard since the night before. That brought some relief to my anxiety.

  Although telling the truth at my Article Thirty-Two hearing had been liberating and the right thing to do, it was nerve wracking.

  I knew that at some point the powers that be would be seeking retribution.

  The powers that be.

  I pondered that phrase. A phrase I don't think I'd understood until the last few days.

  There were powers that could dictate the timing and equipment of TOP SECRET SEAL missions.

  Powers that could have you attacked and killed inside a military prison.

  Powers that commanded the very structure of the military prison facility; that could access you anywhere, find your family anywhere.

  A shiver ran down my spine as Pete Rogers slurped down what remained of my brown mush.

  "What's wrong, LT?" Pete asked as he took a last drink from his carton of milk and pushed the tray back towards my side of the table.

  "Who are these people?" I asked, cradling my head in my hands for a moment before looking across the small steel table to Pete's lean and hard face.

  He nodded and leaned in towards me. "The ones pulling the strings?" He asked.

  I nodded.

  "The same men who have been pulling the strings for time immemorial, I would assume." He responded finally. "The ones with the most to lose."

/>   He smiled sadly and leaned back.

  I nodded. "Pete," I said a second later, " I never asked, but why are you in here?"

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands still as they rested on the cold steel of the small table.

  "The same reason you are, Lieutenant. Men with the most to lose decided that my team and I made convenient fall guys."

  "Well, I don't think they've found me to be a very convenient fall guy at this point." I said, pausing. "It looks like the charges might be dismissed."

  Pete shook his head and whistled softly.

  "Be careful, Lieutenant. These men, they don't function within the law. They don't answer to any power higher than themselves. They only respect money and power."

  "I can't let them get away with this." I said to no one in particular, only half convinced that I believed it.

  Pete leaned forward, intent now. "If you never listen to a word I say, listen to me on this point. If you are fortunate enough to have your charges dropped in the Article Thirty-Two Hearing, let it go. Digging any deeper will only get you killed... Get your family killed."

  The skin around my eyes tightened as I squinted with rage.

  "And they get away with it. With killing those children. With killing my men. With dragging the entire SEAL organization through the mud." My hands made fists on the metal table as I peered around the room.

  "That's right, Lieutenant. And you and your family live."

  He stood slowly across the table. His trident tattoo was exposed momentarily as the material pulled away from his arm while he reached out for his tray.

  He caught me looking and smiled sadly.

  "I wish I'd had your courage, Lieutenant." He walked slowly away, his head sweeping slowly side to side, his stride slow but athletic. Still every inch the SEAL despite his years in confinement.

  I shook my head before standing and walking towards the scullery behind him.

  Wondering what Pete had been convicted of.

  He was too in the know. Too familiar with whatever organization had been pulling the strings this whole time.

  I quickened my step and caught up to him moments later just after he'd set his tray on the counter.

  I stepped in front of him.

  "I need to know what you know about these men." I said quietly as I set my tray on the counter next to Pete's.

  He smiled sadly and shrugged.

  "I've been here for ten years. Convicted of a crime that my team and I did not commit. Since then, I've watched the same thing happen to other men. Those pulling the string are almost invisible. They act with boldness and impunity."

  I nodded.

  A guard was closing in on our location. Prisoners were not supposed to talk in small groups in the dining facility.

  "So, what I know about these men," Pete continued," Is that they've done this before. Most men roll over and accept the prison sentence. Accept the shame, rather than risk it all. You are the exception, Lieutenant. A true SEAL."

  A tear rolled slowly down his face as he turned away, the guard closing in on our location.

  "If you want to know who did this thing," he asked before stepping away, "find the other men they've left to rot in the Federal and Military prisons around the country."

  Chapter 24:

  I tossed and turned that night.

  Waiting.

  Waiting for retribution that never came.

  At least, retribution that never came upon me.

  As the day broke through the small cell window, I breathed a sigh of relief and stretched. My Article Thirty-Two Hearing would reconvene at 0830.

  I stood and stretched, the pain in my back slightly diminished.

  I glanced in the small aluminum mirror affixed firmly to the wall and lifted my shirt. The bruise from the rubber bullet was turning from a deep purple to a lighter blue and yellow.

  I fell to the floor and did a few pushups and sit ups. Shaved. Splashed water on my face, and waited.

  It wasn't long before the buzzer sounded and the door to my cell opened.

  I groaned.

  Outside the cell stood the chubby, crooked toothed guard who'd led me to solitary two nights earlier.

  He flashed me a crooked smile. "Good morning, Lieutenant." He gave me my space and escorted me down the hallway.

  "You know," I said as we walked towards the dining hall, "If you want me to go somewhere with you, all you have to do is ask... The Taser the other night was overkill."

  He laughed without mirth and stepped closer, his hands grabbing my shoulder roughly as we stepped down the cold concrete hall past the empty cells that lined the pretrial confinement section of the facility.

  "Is that right?" He asked, his voice a low hiss in my ear. "You going to be completely docile?"

  I nodded. "I don't see that I have many other options."

  He laughed again. "Good thing you see that now. Your friend Pete, he never did learn that lesson. Well, not until last night, at least."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, my eyes narrowing as I stopped short in the hallway, the chubby officer's pudgy hands tightening around my upper arm as he led me to the dining hall.

  "Oh, you didn't hear?" He answered, smiling.

  "Your buddy Pete Rogers, well... Sorry to tell you, but he killed himself last night. Hung himself with his shoestrings in his cell."

  I closed my eyes tight and took a deep breath.

  I could not allow myself to lash out against this man. That was what he wanted.

  A reason. Any reason to eliminate me. So, I shook my head and continued walking.

  It was one of the hardest things that I've ever done.

  When we reached the dining hall, I looked around, hoping against all hope that the guard had been lying. That Pete was here. That he'd just been trying to elicit a response from me.

  The tall thin former SEAL was nowhere to be found.

  I walked through the line on autopilot. My head downcast.

  The men around me seemed to avoid me like the plague.

  I couldn't blame them.

  Everyone who interacted with me since I arrived had been killed.

  The big man.

  Now, Pete.

  I wouldn't talk to me either.

  Breakfast was toast and oatmeal.

  I didn't eat. I just stared at my plate until the time came to head back to my hearing.

  The time to hear my fate.

  The chubby young guard stood waiting, leaning lazily against the concrete wall by the door.

  He escorted me down the long corridor, past the empty cells of the pretrial confinement area and through the heavy steel doors that led to the concrete landing outside.

  There, my attorney waited, standing next to the large black SUV that would drive me to my hearing.

  He smiled. "Good morning."

  I just nodded as the MPs handcuffed me and helped me into the vehicle.

  As I settled tiredly into the cloth back seat, my arms cuffed behind me, I leaned my head against the darkly tinted window of the vehicle.

  Another SEAL was dead at the hands of whoever was responsible for the events of the last few days.

  I closed my eyes as the cool glass pressed against my temple and my attorney climbed into the vehicle beside me.

  "You alright, Lieutenant?" He asked as the MPs climbed into the two front seats and the vehicle pulled slowly away from the Brig, yesterday's rain having given way to a bright and cool morning which only made the darkness of my situation that much more painful.

  I realized now what Pete had meant.

  I knew beyond all doubt that if this Article Thirty-Two Hearing resulted in the charges being dismissed, I needed to disappear.

  Justice, I now knew, would have to wait.

  Chapter 25:

  Like the day earlier, the tall brick steps to the courtroom were crowded with reporters. All seeking a shot of my face, a statement about the events of that night.

  Thankfully, we drove right past the
teeming throng of reporters.

  My lawyer smiled.

  "We will head around back, sir." Said the young Military Police driver as he wove through traffic and turned a hard right around the side of the building.

  I was grateful for the anonymity this morning.

  My lawyer nodded at me and asked a single question. "You ready?"

  I nodded and stepped through the thick metal door as the MP opened it. The walk was interminable, but at least there was no delay this morning.

  As we walked through the foyer, I glimpsed Leigh and Clementine standing together near the heavy wooden double doors at the front of the building. I nodded and tried to smile.

  Leigh waved.

  She could have no idea what was going on inside the courtroom.

  No one did.

  The proceedings had been sealed to all except for two Navy SEALs, three lawyers, and one Judge.

  The doors to the courtroom swung shut behind me as the MPs unlocked my handcuffs and my lawyer and I stepped down the hardwood floor to the defense table.

  Chief Jones was already here.

  His broad and strong black hand drummed insistently on the table as he waited.

  He nodded. "Good morning, sir." He said, sitting a little straighter in his wheelchair.

  I returned the gesture and took my own wooden chair.

  I didn't remain seated for long.

  "Attention on deck." The voice rang out strong and steady.

  The Judge entered the room and took his seat.

  "Seats." He ordered, setting a thick file folder on the desk before him.

  "I'd like to reconvene the Article Thirty-Two Hearing placed in recess on the preceding day." He stated.

  "I have thoroughly reviewed the evidence in this case, including the evidence submitted by the defendant's attorney and am prepared to make my recommendation to the convening authority."

  "Lieutenant Pike, please stand." He ordered.

  I stood at attention, a bead of sweat rolling slowly down my face as I awaited my fate.

  "Chief Petty Officer Jones, raise your hand."

  Chief raised his hand in the air, shifting in his wheelchair.