Keegan
The pictures stay on their easels as the uniformed woman who seems to be in charge of the Army’s case tells the panel that will decide Blue’s fate what they’re about to hear.
I’d learned from Blue that in the military, it’s called a panel instead of a jury. Blue’s panel is made up mostly of middle-aged men and women, all in uniform. I can’t tell which uniform is which, but Blue said it would be a mix of enlisted people and officers.
I have no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“You’re going to find out why these young servicemen no longer walk this earth,” the lead attorney is saying, walking back and forth in front of the easels, “and who is responsible for that.
“You’re going to hear what was done to cover up responsibility for their deaths. How the person responsible went out of his way to cover up that fact, how he lied under oath, allowed that lie to spread to the world, to the families of these brave men.”
Maria’s trying hard not to make a sound. I grip her fingers with mine.
The attorney’s voice turns sarcastic. “No amount of pretty song-writing can change the facts of this case, ladies and gentlemen. No amount of celebrity endorsements can bring these American heroes back to life.”
Oh, you fucking bitch. I can’t help thinking it.
I see Blue shifting in his seat. This must be killing him. I wish I could reach out to him.
We hear about the guys, their service records, struggles, and successes. We learn that Cunny was honor cadet at boot camp, and I see his mother dab at her eyes with a Kleenex.
We hear that Hud planned to propose to his girlfriend when his tour of duty ended. We find out that Monti had just been promoted to Specialist and planned to make a career out of the Army.
Then we hear from witness after witness, going through in excruciating detail the events leading up to the attack.
The Army lawyer reads repeatedly from the statement Blue gave after he turned himself in. She describes how he left the base without authorization and was then captured and held by Aziza’s brothers.
I close my eyes when she reads Blue’s own words about being beaten so badly he could barely walk.
For several moments, I again feel like I’m going to throw up. But I don’t move a muscle; I’m cemented to my seat.
By the time the judge calls a recess until the next morning, we’re up to the moment that the missile struck the vehicle the three men were riding in as they barreled toward that village in Afghanistan, trying to rescue their brother.
We stay in our seats until everyone else has filed out. Then I follow Maria and Bryson toward the table where Blue and Holmlund are still talking.
I almost start to cry when I see Blue’s ashen face and utterly desolate eyes. I curl my hand around his ice-cold fingers.
Holmlund sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“I know that was rough,” he says, looking from me to Blue and then at Maria. “And tomorrow is going to be just as bad. Maybe even worse.
But I have a lot to work with here, and I’m just getting started. Don’t forget that.”
I give him a half-smile. He squeezes my shoulder for a second and then drops his hand.
“Let’s get to the hotel,” he says. “We all need a good night’s sleep. And I could use a drink.”
~~~
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