by Don Brown
“The person of the defendant?” Levinson chuckled. “Come on, ladies and gentlemen. Who talks like that?
“And he wraps up his testimony after admitting that none of these tapes contain any direct admission of a crime, and pulls himself to his fullest height, sits down . . . and then what?
“Then we learn, to our shock and dismay, that Mr. Kilnap has concealed some very important information. That he happened to break the law by bugging a service member’s car without a search warrant.
“No biggie. Just a violation of the Constitution of the United States and the search-and-seizure laws of the naval service. That’s all.
“His explanation for breaking the law? He says nobody asked him. Until Lieutenant Brewer finally asked him the night after his testimony.
“Just conveniently escaped his mind, did it? Come on. Kilnap has been in the NCIS for more than twenty years. He’s no rookie. He’s savvy. We all know he was fully aware of his duty to disclose. And for him to suggest that he just didn’t think about it until Lieutenant Brewer asked him is not credible. We all know it’s a lie. And this is the testimony over which the government seeks a conviction and the death penalty?
“Put it this way: If your dearest loved one were charged with a crime based on the word of Special Agent Harry Kilnap, would you believe they’d had a fair trial?”
Levinson let the comment hang as several members winced.
“Proof beyond a reasonable doubt means that you can go to bed tonight with no doubt that these officers committed all the elements of all the crimes they’ve been charged with.
“Can you really do that based on the testimony of Harry Kilnap?” He stopped, letting the question resonate through the courtroom.
Diane glanced at Zack, but his attention was riveted on Levinson.
“As I said,” Levinson continued, “the government’s case, flimsy from the beginning, was built on a precarious house of cards.
“And then along came the wind.
“No, not the wind.
“Along came the hurricane.
“In this case, Hurricane Harry Kilnap blew the remnants of the government’s case to the four corners of the earth.”
Levinson paused. The air in the courtroom seemed supercharged, electric. The gleam in the attorney’s eyes told Diane he recognized it too, and he was playing it for all it was worth.
He lowered his voice, slowed his cadence, and dramatically resumed his delivery. “This case was fraught with prejudice from the beginning. By this prosecution, the government encroaches on the very Constitution we all have sworn to defend by putting the great faith of Islam on trial, based on faulty evidence and a dirty investigator.
“Islam is on trial here today,” he said. “This trial is about whether the First Amendment means anything, whether freedom of religion is important to the military. It is not, I submit, just Islam that is on trial. Freedom is being prosecuted. The very freedom that you, as officers are sworn to protect, you are now being asked to condemn.
“Do what’s right, ladies and gentlemen.
“Return with a verdict of not guilty.
“I thank you.”
The dramatic silence in the courtroom was almost hypnotic, punctuated only by the clock and the sounds of Levinson’s shoes clicking against the floor as he made his way back to the defense counsel table.
Diane again glanced at Zack, who was sitting with his hands folded on his lap, smiling slightly as if he were the only one in the packed courtroom who had not fallen under Levinson’s swoon.
“Lieutenant Brewer?” Judge Reeves peered down at him. “Would you like a recess before proceeding?”
Zack gave Diane one of his trademark quick winks and rose to his feet. “Your Honor, unless the court or the members want a recess, the government is ready to proceed.” Zack’s whole demeanor exuded confidence, from his crisp summer whites with the black and gold shoulder boards to the thrust of his chin, the set of his shoulders. Who ever said Levinson was the greatest trial lawyer in the world? The brightest and the best stood beside her.
“Very well,” Reeves said. “Then the members are with the prosecution. Lieutenant Brewer?”
With a pleasant smile on his face, he strode confidently, without notes, and turned to the members.
No notes? How is he going to do this?
“Mr. President, distinguished members, they say great lawyers have the ability to draw on real-life experiences and even borrow from the techniques of professionals in other disciplines.” He paused, letting his words settle as he met the gaze of each member before proceeding.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m no great lawyer. I am a naval officer, first and foremost. It is the profession I have chosen, and it is the profession of which I am most proud. I am a naval officer who just happens also to be a lawyer.
“We have witnessed today, and during the course of this trial, a textbook performance by one who is undeniably a great lawyer.” Zack looked at Levinson, then held his hand toward the defense counsel as he turned back to the members. “One who is recognized as perhaps the world’s greatest trial lawyer.
“And I want you to understand that this great lawyer has employed one of the most subtle, yet one of the most effective, techniques that defense lawyers often use to obfuscate the true facts and thwart justice.
“It is a technique borrowed from magicians.” He looked into the eyes of the jury, his expression intense. “It is a technique called sleight of hand.”
He paused for a moment, and when he continued, his diction was deliberate. “Sleight of hand—the use of skillful tricks and deceptions to produce entertaining and baffling effects.”
Zack lowered his voice as he approached the banister rail. “Here’s what this means. The illusionist takes an object in his hand, which is in reality a decoy, holds it out to the audience, and proclaims to the audience that what is before their eyes will suddenly disappear. The audience, with its eyes transfixed on the object of the trick,” Zack balled his right fist and held it over his head, “does not see the true object of the trick, which is carefully tucked away in the illusionist’s other hand, behind his back, out of the audience’s view.” He moved his left hand behind his back, imitating an illusionist.
“At the end of the trick, the object hidden behind the magician’s back is suddenly gone. Disposed of in a trap door or taken by an assistant while the audience was distracted.
“Suddenly gone. And the audience is amazed, wondering what happened to the object. That’s sleight-of-hand trickery. The truth is suddenly gone, disappearing while our eyes are distracted by a red herring.”
Another pause as Zack rested his hands on the banister rail.
“If Harry Houdini were in this courtroom today, he’d be proud . . . proud to see the world’s greatest lawyer borrow the most fundamental technique of trickery from the world’s greatest magician and bring it into the courtroom.”
Zack stepped back to the center of the well and raised his voice. “Mr. Levinson seeks to hold out Harry Kilnap as the visual distraction while hiding behind his back the cold, stark truth of cold-blooded murder!
“Mr. Levinson says that in this case, the killers are dead.
“He’s only got that partially right.
“You don’t have to answer this question, but does anybody here play chess?” Three of the Navy captains on the panel nodded their heads.
“It may be true that the pawns in this case are dead, but the knights and rooks and bishops that are a part of this plot are very much alive and sitting over at the defense counsel table, right beside Mr. Levinson.” Zack pointed an accusing finger at the defendants as the gazes of the jury shot toward them.
“The kings and queens—the financial masterminds behind all this who are enemies of the United States—this Council of Ishmael, this Hussein al-Akhma—are somewhere overseas, temporarily out of the reach of this and other U.S. courts.”
Zack stepped in front of Judge Reeve’s bench, his gaze never leavin
g the members. “But their day of justice will also arrive,” he thundered. “And this is to serve notice on those criminals beyond our borders but who may be listening to the words of my voice—the day of vengeance draweth nigh.”
Zack stepped back, his words reverberating throughout the corners of the courtroom. “Mr. Levinson claims, ladies and gentlemen, that our case is built on a house of cards.
“Tell that, Mr. Levinson, to Beth and Mary Blake Latcher. Tell them their daddy’s airplane was blown out of the sky by a deck of cards.” His voice choked as he turned away from the members, his eyes tearing. He paused as if to regain his composure; then he turned back to the members and resumed, his voice softer, lower.
“Tell that, Mr. Levinson, to Naomi Barak, the grief-stricken widow of the Israeli ambassador. Tell her that her husband was shot in the heart, not by a sniper’s bullet, but by a house of cards.
“Tell that, Mr. Levinson, to Reverend Jeffrey Spletto, who saw members of his congregation, men, women, and children, murdered by a deranged Muslim sailor. Tell him that the murderous hand grenade, bought and paid for by the United States government, was constructed with a house of cards.
“Let’s take a look at this house of cards, and when we do, what we see behind Mr. Levinson’s back is hard evidence of cold-blooded murder.” The choking tone was gone. Anger had replaced it.
“We start with a routine training flight by a naval aviator whose squadron was about to deploy to the eastern Mediterranean on the USS Nimitz. The squadron’s role—to provide firepower in supporting Israel, a United States ally and the only true democracy in the region. Israel, as we know, is in a period of heightened international tensions with its Arab neighbors over the issue of settlements in so-called occupied territories.
“About thirty minutes into the flight, after Latcher successfully tests his canon on a strafing run in North Carolina, he banks his plane to the west, following a flight plan that would shortly turn him to the north and then back home to Oceana Naval Air Station.
“Just a few minutes after banking to the west, with the plane over Lake Phelps, the F/A-18 explodes into a fireball, and Latcher’s body plunges into the shallow waters below.
“Despite Darryl Swain’s heroic efforts to swim through the burning AVJET fuel floating on the water, Latcher is already dead. Military aviation experts from Pax River, Maryland, arrive on the scene and discover the residue of plastic explosives in the jet’s avionics bay.
“The existence of the plastic explosives that brought the plane down is uncontroverted. Not even Mr. Levinson has challenged that.
“Somebody, ladies and gentlemen, sabotaged that plane.
“The question is, who?” Zack walked to the prosecution table, took a sip of water. His eyes caught Diane’s; then he looked back at the members.
“First of all, not every Tom, Dick, and Harry can just walk through a heavily guarded military installation like Oceana and get their hands on an F/A-18. Access to that plane was extremely limited. Limited, in fact, to those aviation electronics and aviation structural mechanics from that squadron.
“This bomb was strategically placed in the avionics bay. Thus, the bomber had to know something about the airplane to find that compartment, and had to be experienced enough to hide the plastic explosives device in just the right place at just the right time.
“So of the nearly 300 million people in the United States, you’re looking at no more than a dozen men who even might, and I repeat might, have access.
“Now let’s fast-forward the first recorded conversation we have between Petty Officer al-Aziz and Lieutenant Commander Reska. Mr. Levinson wants you to believe the reference to destroying ‘an instrument of war that would be used against many of our Arab brothers’ is a reference to some missile platform the squadron attacked on a Med cruise last year.
“But Mr. Levinson is conveniently selective in picking and choosing what he wants you to hear. He conveniently ignores Reska’s next statement. And what was that statement? Listen, ladies and gentlemen.”
Zack walked to a pre-positioned tape recorder on the prosecutor’s table and punched a button to start the tape.
“This morning, there are Muslim families who will keep their fathers for a while because of your heroic act.”
“‘This morning’? Why would Reska say ‘this morning’ if he were referring to something that happened over a year ago? He is obviously referring to something that happened very recently.
“And calling it ‘your heroic act’?
“The attack last year against the missile platform in Syria was from an air-to-surface missile fired by Commander Latcher, not al-Aziz. Petty Officer al-Aziz was out in the Mediterranean, on board the Nimitz, when that missile was fired. Certainly no act of heroism.
“Reska is referring to something that al-Aziz did, calling it a heroic act—this destruction of an instrument of war.
“And here’s the real kicker. Listen to this, ladies and gentlemen.” Zack punched the recorder button again.
“But remember what we discussed earlier. We must be prepared for martyrdom. If Allah will allow you to be of further service, then so be it.But if he allows detection by the enemy and martyrdom, praise be to Allah!”
“‘Remember what we discussed earlier’? Here, Reska is talking about something he and the late Petty Officer al-Aziz previously discussed. And what is that something?
“Martyrdom.
“The code word for glorified Islamic suicide, where certain radicals within the faith think they can kill, maim, and murder, and then kill themselves and float off to paradise in the company of a thousand maidens.
“Reska, this peaceful man of the cloth as his lawyer calls him, is encouraging his disciple to take his own life.
“Sounds real peaceful, huh?
“And under what circumstances is Reska encouraging suicide?” Another pause. Diane saw him eyeing the members. Their gazes were locked on him.
“Detection by the enemy.”
Zack stopped, walked up and down the banister rail, and in a softer voice repeated, “And what enemy is Lieutenant Commander Reska worried about?
“The Naval Criminal Investigative Service. United States Military investigators who were—as al-Aziz said—snooping around the hangar. That’s what brought about this whole conversation to begin with.
“Commander Reska calls his own military the enemy.” Zack let his comment sink in for a moment. “This criminal network doesn’t end with the meeting at Shoney’s.
“Afterwards, Reska gets nervous because a witness is alive—al-Aziz—who might link this terrorist network of chaplains into the bombing of the plane. So he gets on the telephone, and he calls the defendant Commander Mohammed Olajuwon, and tells him about his problems with al-Aziz.
“And what is Olajuwon’s reaction to all this? He gets upset that alAziz hasn’t entered martyrdom. And he reminds him of how Neptune, the San Diego church killer, and Saidia, the assassin of the Israeli ambassador, both understood their roles to commit martyrdom after committing murder. Listen again, ladies and gentlemen. This is the voice of Commander Olajuwon, speaking first, recorded from our wiretap of his apartment here in San Diego.”
Zack punched the recorder.
“Speaking of martyrdom is not good enough! Petty Officer Neptune is now a martyr in Allah’s cause. So is Staff Sergeant Saidi. In other words, Commander, Chaplain Abdul-Sehen did his part to persuade Saidi. So did I with Neptune. Neptune and I had many talks about martyrdom. He understood his role from the beginning. But this al-Aziz seems liable to erupt like a volcano with a slew of information that must be kept contained. This is a risk which cannot be allowed.”
“He understands he cannot compromise our position, Commander,” said a second voice.
“Does he? And how can we be assured of this? He already seems distraught as a result of this ‘investigation.’ We never have to worry about Neptune or Saidi speaking. But I fear this al-Aziz, in his present mental state, constitutes a r
isk to our network.”
Zack pressed the pause button on the recorder. “Ladies and gentlemen, Olajuwon, in this recording, specifically mentions the names of Neptune, Saidi, and al-Aziz. He is speaking of the killers in all three of these crimes. He is saying the chaplains had specific conversations with the killers about the murders both before, and in the case of al-Aziz, after the events. The chaplains worry about having their network compromised. They knew about the murders in advance. They encouraged them. They helped plan them. They condoned them. They tried in advance to cover their murderous tracks by encouraging martyrdom, and they almost succeeded. They never have to worry about Neptune or Saidi speaking, Olajuwon says.
“But al-Aziz did not have the guts to stick a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. And at this point, they hatched the plot to make sure they didn’t have to worry about al-Aziz either.
“The plot thickens, ladies and gentlemen. When Reska offers to again speak with al-Aziz, to persuade him to commit suicide, Olajuwon becomes more adamant, threatening to inform someone named alAkhma about al-Aziz still being alive. Reska is not happy about this prospect. Listen again to this . . .”
“I will speak with him again if you think it is best, Commander.”
“Lieutenant Commander Reska, consider what is at stake here.Think of all the Council has worked for over the years. Remember the lawsuit to assure our admission into the Chaplain Corps. Then think of the Council’s work with the aviators. We cannot afford to have this strategically placed cell of officers compromised by this young man.
“Perhaps I should inform al-Akhma and the Council through our back channels and seek their guidance on what to do in this situation.”
“No! Please, Commander. Do not bother al-Akhma with this. I beg of you, let me try again with the boy. I can assure you, it will not be necessary to bother the Council with this.”
Zack remained silent for a moment, letting the condemning words speak for themselves. To Diane, it seemed the members were almost afraid to breathe, so intense were their expressions. “Later, we hear Ola-juwon has spoken with Commander Abdul-Sehen, who approves of the murderous plan. And when Olajuwon presses his threat to inform this alAkhma character, Reska begs for time. Listen again.”
