Third, and perhaps most damaging to me, was the fact that my lawyer was not one of those types who was passionate about defending his clients. In fact, he'd have much rather been out of the service altogether, working admiralty law with his father up in Seattle. He'd told me as much himself at our first meeting. I wasn't going to get a passionate advocate on my side. So, when the prosecutor tossed me a bone and agreed to a plea-bargain for involuntary manslaughter, I took it. If anything, I felt I had to do some penance for taking my friend's life.
"Specialist Bell, the court accepts your plea of guilty to the charge of involuntary manslaughter. I've looked over the terms of the agreement worked out between you and the prosecution, and while I find them rather lenient, they are within the guidelines of the UCMJ. In addition, the court takes into consideration the statements of character from your team leader, as well as your service record, which until now, while not spotless, showed that you have served well. Therefore, the court will agree with the recommendation from the prosecution. You are to serve three to five years at the military prison in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas."
There was an outraged cry from behind me, and I turned my head to watch as Mr. James, Lloyd's father and one of the biggest businessmen in that part of Pennsylvania, exploded to his feet. "The hell you will! That son of a bitch murdered my only son! And he gets three to five? Are you out of your fucking mind?"
The Colonel glared at Mr. James and banged his gavel on the desk. "Mr. James, it is only at the request of the senior Senator from your home state that I have agreed to allow you to attend these proceedings. He is a personal friend of mine, and he assured me that you would conduct yourself in a reasonable and dignified manner. If you cannot, I will have you removed from the courtroom, and neither of us wants that."
Mr. James was red-faced, staring daggers at the Colonel before turning his attention to me. "I swear, you bastard, you will serve every day of that. And may God alone help you when you get out."
He sat down before the MPs could take him away or the Colonel could order him out, and I turned my attention back to the Colonel. When he was certain there would be no more outbursts from the gallery—other than Lloyd's father, the only other person there was a reporter from the Fort Campbell Public Affairs Office, who would handle the press release, military level newspaper story, and statements to the civilian press—he continued. "The court's decision is made. In addition, effective immediately, you will be reduced in rank to that of Private, and upon completion of your sentence, you will receive a Dishonorable Discharge, forfeiting all pay and benefits accrued during your time in service. Do you have any questions?"
"May I make a statement, sir?" I asked. Other than entering my plea, it was the first time I'd said anything, and this was the third day I'd been in the courtroom. In combat, military justice is swift and certain. In the rear areas, though, justice was less swift but no less certain. The Colonel nodded, and I cleared my throat, squaring my shoulders and standing tall. I may not have been accepted by the military any longer, but I still had my pride. "I . . . I’m sorry for Lloyd's death. He was my friend, and I wish he could have been here today. But despite my fate, which I will not appeal, I feel I have served as honorably as I could have done, and I have never betrayed my oath to protect our nation and our Constitution. That's all."
The Colonel nodded, with perhaps a hint of compassion in his face after my statement, then turned to two MPs who were acting as bailiffs. He'd read all the same evidence I had, and he knew that if I'd insisted on taking it to a jury trial, a good lawyer had a chance of getting me off. "Secure the prisoner for transport. This court-martial is adjourned."
Chapter 7
Abby
The house was quiet when I got back, and I was worried that Daddy may have gone to work. Brittany didn't work. I don't think she'd ever had a job in her life, and I could not have faced dealing with her alone. Not on top of all that had happened to me in the past twelve hours. But Daddy . . . I needed him, regardless of how childish it made me feel to admit it.
On the cab ride from Midtown back to our house, I kept turning over in my mind how damn stupid I'd been. It had taken me a while after I saw Chris's face to make the connection, but once I had, the name Dane Bell stuck out like a sore thumb in my mind. I had been just about to turn eighteen when I read the news about a soldier in the 101st Airborne killing one of his own in Iraq. Chris hadn't told me a lot of personal details about his friends at Fort Campbell, probably because of operational security, but the names Dane and Lloyd stuck out because they were so close.