Treason

by Don Brown

  He smiled back. “Right now, this jury-of-one is my most important to date.”

  She felt herself blush yet again and glanced down at the small stack of unauthorized-absence cases on her desk. Why does this guy make me blush when no one else can? “But who would handle my UAs?” She grinned at him.

  “Look. I’ve been a bit cocky in my career. No attorney has ever intimidated me. But this guy Levinson? I don’t know if I can handle him by myself. Frankly, there’s no other attorney in the JAG Corps with your natural flair for litigation. If you say no, I’ll go it alone. But I need you. More important, the Navy and your country need you.”

  Zack leaned forward as he continued his plea. “Look, Diane, this case isn’t just about Levinson and me. It’s bigger than all of us. Our national security is at stake. If we lose this case, it’s a major victory for terrorism. If we lose, radical Islamic extremists will think they have a license to infiltrate the U.S. military. We can’t let this happen.”

  She stared at Zack, stunned by what he had just told her. Stunned that he wanted her to work with him. Stunned by the high stakes. She wondered if she had what it took. What if she failed again?

  Then she thought of her father, the belief he had in her abilities even when she had rebelled against him. This was her moment. She could almost hear his gravelly voice telling her so. She gave Zack a half smile. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

  Zack grinned like a kid opening presents under the Christmas tree.

  “Fabulous!” He stood, extending his hand. “Then we’ve got a deal?”

  “We’ve got a deal.”

  She grasped his hand for a lingering handshake as their eyes locked again.

  A few heartbeats later, he released her grip.

  She felt a flash of disappointment.

  And then he was gone.

  CHAPTER 52

  Lieutenant Diane Colcernian’s townhouse

  Near Jimmy Durante Boulevard

  Del Mar, California

  The memory of the brief touch of Zack’s hand wrapped around hers kept Diane tossing and turning deep into the night. At three o’clock, a cup of chamomile tea with honey slowed things down some. She was now replaying the handshake in her mind only five times an hour instead of ten.

  It was not a businesslike grip appropriate to the consummation of a contract. It was, rather, a touch that caused her heart to skip a beat and almost dance. It was, in reality, the instant their hands met, like being plugged into a live socket.

  Definite shock.

  Undeniable electricity.

  She took a sip of herbal tea to calm her thudding heart. Control yourself, Diane. Are you going to let one meeting with this smooth-talking guy suddenly erase everything he’s taken from you?

  She poured her now lukewarm tea down the sink and padded down the hall to her bedroom again. More tossing and turning followed. Finally, she sat up, exasperated, and flipped on the bedside table light.

  She had planned to read, but as she reached for her book, the lamp illumined a photograph of her father. The admiral stood there, smiling at her, in his service dress blue uniform, with the thick gold bands of a three-star admiral on his lower sleeves, his hand cradling a white officer’s hat with “scrambled eggs” on its black bill. It was her father’s last official photograph as COMNAVSURFLANT, taken just one month before the stroke.

  She studied his face for a moment, remembering his fire-and-ice personality, his passion for those he loved, his no-nonsense ways and frustratingly high standards. He was complex, difficult . . . but she had loved him with all her heart. Somehow, thinking about him made her feel calm again. She turned out the light, deciding she did not want to read after all.

  She was just drifting off when her eyes opened wide in the dark. That’s it! Zack reminds me of Daddy. His personality. His intelligence.Even his eyes. Why haven’t I seen it before?

  Three hours later, the staticky sound of her clock radio alarm woke her.

  She squinted at the clock: 5:30.

  She leaned over and tuned the radio to news station KSDO and the soothing, almost grandfatherly voice of the early morning drive-time radio DJ in San Diego.

  “More news today coming out of the Navy about the anticipated court-martial of three Muslim Navy chaplains facing treason charges.

  “In a surprise announcement, the Navy released a statement late last night announcing Lieutenant Diane Colcernian will be joining the prosecution team. Now this is somewhat surprising because Lieutenant Col-cernian was the defense attorney in the recently completed trial of Petty Officer Antonio Blount, the Navy SEAL convicted of assaulting the niece of powerful U.S. Senator Roberson Fowler.

  “Blount received thirty years in a Navy brig. Now Colcernian joins Lieutenant Zack Brewer, her opponent in the Blount trial, who will serve as lead prosecutor against the chaplains. Brewer and Colcernian were heated rivals in the Blount trial, and it will be interesting to see if they can patch their differences and work together against Wellington Levin-son, the internationally acclaimed defense attorney who is representing the chaplains.

  “In response to the press conference held by Levinson and the Reverend JamesOn Barbour on Monday, the Navy announced that it will hold a press conference today to introduce the prosecution team, and the specifics on that are expected to be released later today.

  “In sports, the Padres start today’s doubleheader three games behind the Dodgers . . .”

  Diane flipped off the radio. After showering and pulling on her khaki uniform shirt and skirt, she grabbed an apple and headed south down Interstate 5 from Del Mar to the 32nd Street Naval Station.

  When she arrived in her office just before 7:00, the orders transferring her to Navy JAG Trial Services Office were already on her desk.

  “I understand I’m losing my best defense counsel.”

  Diane looked up and saw the senior defense counsel standing at her door.

  “This has happened so fast, sir.”

  “Change is the most constant part of Navy life.” He gave her a wink.

  “We’ll miss you, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll miss being here.”

  “I understand they’ve got a lot of work for you over in the trial shop. I’ll send Petty Officer Benedict over there with your personal items. You’ve got a huge task in front of you, Diane. Maybe you should get going. Good luck.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  With hands trembling, Lieutenant Diane Colcernian walked out of the defense wing for the last time.

  CHAPTER 53

  Navy JAG Trial Command

  Building 73

  32nd Street Naval Station

  San Diego

  Diane felt a tinge of nervousness when she reported to Captain Glen Rudy’s office at the JAG Trial Service Office. She wondered if her jangled nerves were from the trauma of changing jobs, from the prospect of working on another high-profile case, or from the idea of working closely with Zack Brewer. She wasn’t sure.

  “Mornin’, ma’am,” Master Chief Legalman Richard Cisco said, rising as she stepped into the reception area.

  “Morning, Master Chief,” Diane nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Colcernian, reporting for duty.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cisco said. “We’re expecting you, ma’am. The skipper’s not in at the moment. He’ll be back soon. We’re having a brief ceremony in his office.”

  Diane smiled, wondering if they were planning a little welcome party for her.

  “Coffee, ma’am?”

  “No thanks, Master Chief.” She handed the legalman her orders. “Is Lieutenant Brewer in by any chance?”

  “Oh yes, ma’am,” the master chief said. “He’s expecting you. He said just come on down to his office. No need to knock, he said. He’s busy getting ready for a press conference this afternoon. I think they want you in on that one too.”

  “Where’s the lieutenant’s office, Master Chief?”

  “Last door, starboard.”

  “Thanks
, Master Chief.”

  Diane followed the legalman’s directions, and a minute later she approached the last door on the right. Just outside it, inserted in a small sleeve was a portable gold nameplate that read “LT Brewer.”

  Her heart pounded with more intensity when she saw that the door was slightly ajar. The master chief had said to just walk in. Zack was expecting her. She told herself to stop fretting and just be professional.

  She pushed open the door. And gaped. Zack stood with his back to her, embracing his paralegal, Amy DeBenedetto.

  The moment the door opened, Zack’s peripheral vision kicked in. “Diane!” he said, stepping back quickly.

  “I’m sorry, I should have knocked. I—”

  “It’s okay.” Zack frowned.

  Amy, her eyes as wide as saucers, simply stared at Diane.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” Diane’s heart felt numb as she backed toward the doorway.

  “It’s okay.” Zack composed himself and smiled as if he had nothing to be ashamed of. Which, in Diane’s opinion, made what she had just witnessed even worse. He turned to Amy. “Why don’t you show Lieutenant Colcernian what you just showed me.”

  Amy picked up a single-page document from the corner of Zack’s desk and handed it to Diane.

  Diane scanned the letter, then met Amy’s excited gaze. “You’re going to law school?”

  Amy nodded, her eyes sparkling. “I just found out.” She reached for a second set of papers on Zack’s desk, grinned at Zack, and handed it to Diane.

  Diane read the orders from NMPC. So maybe the embrace was congratulatory. She took a deep breath. “You’ve been accepted into the JAG Corps.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Diane was still trying to sort out her feelings, especially how her heart twisted at the sight of the two embracing, when Zack’s intercom buzzed.

  “Lieutenant?” It was the voice of the legalman.

  “Yes?”

  “Skipper’s ready for Lieutenant Colcernian and Miss DeBenedetto.” Miss DeBenedetto?

  “Let’s go, ladies,” Zack said, then escorted them to the executive suite, between the offices of the commanding and executive officers, where soft drinks and cookies were lined up on the conference tables.

  Captain Glen Rudy appeared a few minutes later. “Lieutenant Colcernian, Miss DeBenedetto, please step into my office.”

  Diane followed Amy into the commanding officer’s office, and Zack trailed them both, the faint scent of his cologne wafting toward her.

  “Lieutenant Colcernian, I’d like to present our XO, Commander Bob Reynolds,” Captain Rudy said, referring to the command’s executive officer.

  “Sir,” Diane said.

  “And your senior trial counsel, Commander Awe.”

  “We’ve had the pleasure.” Diane smiled.

  Rudy introduced several of the trial counsel lined up around the room. “And I think you already know Lieutenant Brewer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll have a more formal welcoming ceremony for you later, but the rapid developments of the last few days mean that duty calls first. But before we put you to work, we wanted to say welcome aboard, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “And now,” Rudy said, turning to Amy, “will Miss DeBenedetto step front and center, please.”

  Amy stepped forward and came to attention before the commanding officer.

  “This moment brings me great pride as a commanding officer.” Rudy smiled. “Just one hour ago, you were ‘Petty Officer’ DeBenedetto, but as of thirty minutes ago, I understand you were discharged from the naval service. Is that right, Miss DeBenedetto?”

  “Yes, sir.” Amy’s eyes watered and she blinked back her tears.

  “And I understand that you now wish to return to the naval service?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very well. Raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

  Amy complied. “I, Amy Joy DeBenedetto, do solemnly swear . . . I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic . . . I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same . . . I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion . . . and I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter . . . So help me God,” Amy said, her voice breaking.

  “Master Chief?” Cisco stepped forward with an open felt box containing two black shoulder boards with the mill rind insignia of the Navy JAG Corps and a single gold stripe on the end. Rudy lifted the shoulder boards from the box and ceremoniously snapped them on Amy’s shoulders.

  “Congratulations, Ensign DeBenedetto,” Rudy said, and the small cadre of witnesses broke into applause.

  “Thank you, sir.” Amy’s voice was barely audible over the applause.

  “Lieutenant Brewer, please offer Ensign DeBenedetto a handkerchief so we don’t have to send her uniform to the cleaners before her flight.”

  Zack stepped forward, handed Amy a white handkerchief, and gave her an affectionate hug as the applause died down. The young ensign beamed into his face, and Diane’s heart caught.

  Rudy looked out at the group in front of him. “Just as the winds shift direction and the tides roll in and out, the duties of a naval officer are always subject to change. As good officers, we do not question the orders of our superiors, but rather, we snap a crisp salute and go wherever duty calls.

  “Today the JAG Corps stands ready to begin prosecution of perhaps the most important court-martial in the history of military law. We welcome Lieutenant Colcernian aboard, confident that she and Lieutenant Brewer will forge a dynamic prosecution team, well prepared for the task ahead of them.

  “At the same time, we say good-bye to a vital member of our prosecution team. Ensign DeBenedetto, you were the best legalman paralegal in the Navy. For the next three years, as you pursue your law degree at William and Mary, remember the JAG Corps. Work hard, study hard, and when you return to us, the JAG Corps will be better because of it.”

  Rudy gave Amy a brief hug. “Good-bye, Ensign DeBenedetto. We wish you fair winds and following seas.” He turned to Zack. “Lieutenant, please escort the ensign to her car.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Diane watched as Zack left the office with the newly commissioned ensign, wondering what was between them . . . if anything. Maybe it was fatigue that had caused her imagination to kick into overdrive when she witnessed their embrace.

  Then the bigger question filled her mind: Why did it matter so much?

  Rudy stepped up beside her. “You and Lieutenant Brewer have a press conference this afternoon. You’ll need to change into your whites.”

  “Yes, sir,” Diane said, willing her thoughts away from Zack Brewer. “Master Chief, show Lieutenant Colcernian to her new office.”

  Diane followed the legalman down the hall, determined once again to see Zack Brewer for exactly who he was: a smooth-talking professional who would stop at nothing to win a case . . . or win a heart. Even young Amy DeBenedetto’s.

  And hers.

  CHAPTER 54

  Lieutenant Diane Colcernian’s office

  Navy JAG Trial Command

  32nd Street Naval Station

  San Diego

  Diane had changed into her summer white uniform and was waiting in her new office in the trial wing when Zack returned a half hour later.

  When he knocked at her new office door, now also in his summer whites, carrying a modest but attractive arrangement of daisies, she assumed that part of his half hour had been taken up changing clothes and the other part spent at the Navy exchange florist, buying daisies as a good-bye gesture to Amy.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t have time for a more formal welcome.” He leaned against the doorjamb, one ankle hooked over the other. “The thing with Amy was a total surprise to me.” She raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I hope these brighten your office.”

  “For
me?”

  “Of course.” He walked toward her. “From all the guys in the trial shop.”

  “How kind.” She wondered at her disappointment that the bouquet was by committee.

  He glanced at his watch. “The Navy chief of information has a press conference scheduled in ninety minutes at COMNAVBASE. Commander Awe will drive us downtown and brief us on the way.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “You mean about the press conference?”

  Why do I sense a double meaning? “Yes, the press conference.”

  “The PAO—public affairs officer—reads a statement. I make a brief statement. Then we field questions and leave. Part of the purpose of the presser is to introduce you, and if you’d like, you can say that you’ve just been assigned to the case and want to withhold comment. But the main thing the folks in Washington are concerned about is Levinson getting ahead in the PR war.”

  “That’s it?”

  “For now. We’ll talk strategy this afternoon. They’ve demanded a speedy trial, and this thing may start next week.”

  “Next week?”

  He grinned as she stood up. “Come on. Muster up that million-dollar modeling smile and help me make the Navy look good.”

  Ninety minutes later, Zack, Diane, Commander Awe, and Captain Rudy were escorted into the side entrance of the COMNAVBASE. The idea was to avoid the press gathered at the front entrance. But one of the local reporters spotted the quartet just before they reached the door.

  “Lieutenant Brewer! Lieutenant Brewer!” Jan Oberholtz jogged toward them from around the corner of the COMNAVBASE building, her jeans-clad cameraman in tow.

  “Hurry. Get the door, Chief,” Zack barked.

  Reporters raced behind the cameraman, rounding the corner of the building like sprinters in the final kick to the finish line. The chief punched the electric door-code as the sound of Oberholtz’s clacking heels grew louder. Zack put his hand against Diane’s back, moving her quickly into the elevator, then waited outside as Commander Awe and Captain Rudy entered.