“Well, I’ve got a few problems that have to be ironed out or this isn’t going to work. Actually it won’t work anyway, but here it is. First, don’t you ever dress me down in public again. You have a problem with me, muzzle it till we’re in private. This isn’t the law school library, and I’m a professional officer. Two, I’m no token. You want a token, I’ll get on the phone right now and have the Army send you one.”
She slowly twisted around in her chair and faced me. There was an odd glint in her eye. It didn’t fit right with somebody who was being told where to get off. I should’ve wondered about that. I was just too pumped up on my own vinegar to stop myself.
“If you’re not a token, what are you?”
“I carry my weight. I get jobs just like the rest of your team. Only I’m different. I’ve got a law degree and eight years of courtroom experience under my belt. Also, I’m an expert at military law.”
The corners of her lips cracked upward a tiny bit. “And what gives you the impression the others aren’t attorneys?”
“You mean-”
“Keith was third in his class at Yale Law. Maria and Allie attended UVA Law together. They weren’t top of their class, but they’re no slouches.”
Rather than choke on my own tongue, which was what I felt like doing, I saw an opportunity here. “Then you don’t have any paralegals or legal assistants?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But OGMM’s working to rectify that as we speak.”
“Tell ’em to stop.”
“No, I won’t tell them to stop. We’ve got only two weeks till court. We’ve got work and motions backing up. I can’t afford to have Keith or Allie or Maria wasting any more of their time on simple clerical chores.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“And how will you do that?”
“I’ve got the perfect legal aide who’ll handpick three or four of the best assistants in the business.”
“Look, Attila, no offense, but I’ve seen the quality of legal work your uniformed stooges perform. I can’t afford that. Not on this case.”
“You owe me,” I said, literally stamping my foot like a three-year-old, suddenly desperate to win this argument.
“I don’t owe you shit. I asked for you, but that doesn’t mean I owe you any damned thing.”
“Wrong there,” I said, pushing an accusatory finger at her face. “You ruined my Bermuda vacation. You got any idea how hard it is to get a beach bungalow in May?”
She started to say something, so I took a step toward her, forcing her to lean back. “Also, I’d just met this very fetching Swedish stewardess. And things were going real well, too, if you get my thrust. You got any idea how hard it is to find a real live Swedish stewardess in Bermuda?”
A disgusted look came to her face, because she obviously didn’t want to hear about my sex life. That is, unless my Swedish stewardess happened to be bisexual, in which case, well, maybe an exception could be made.
“And another thing,” I threw in, before she could say no. “This is an Army base in Korea, seven thousand miles from home. It’s not like cases you might’ve tried back in the States, where the moment you step outside the gates you’re on your own turf. You’re stranded here. You’re going to need someone who knows their way around the Army. It’s the simple things like getting a car from the motor pool, getting copiers, making travel arrangements.”
She was getting tired of listening to me, but I was speaking so emphatically she just knew I’d keep quarreling all night if I didn’t get my way.
“When can you have him here?” she asked, not yet committed, but giving a little ground.
“Probably within twenty-four hours.”
“Twenty-four hours, huh?” she asked, looking suddenly thoughtful. Then her expression changed to a threatening snarl. “If I agree to this, he better be damned good.”
“She. And she’s fantastic, trust me.”
She said okay, and I left relishing my one small victory. If I had to endure Katherine’s legal freak show, I’d at least have a few trusted aides by my side. Allies. Normal folks. Well, normal compared to what OGMM was likely to provide, and after one good look at Katherine’s crack attorney team, I didn’t want to even hypothesize what OGMM’s paralegals and legal assistants might be like.
I got all the way back to my room and was still feeling smug and self-congratulatory when it hit me. I wanted to kick myself in the ass, only I’m not double-jointed enough. Katherine had just picked my pocket. She’d picked it clean, too.
That’s why she’d been goading and ridiculing me from that opening moment in Spears’s office. Being her co-counsel, I could just go along for the ride. All I was legally obligated to do was offer her timely advice when it was called for, advice limited essentially to the peculiarities of military law. A token was what she’d called it. Well, to be perfectly precise, that’s exactly what I was being paid to be.
And frankly, it was a safe harbor, as sailors are wont to say. It would keep me out of the way of the political crossfire, which, frankly, wouldn’t hurt my career any. I had this lurking suspicion the Army wasn’t apt to be real grateful toward any officer who threw his heart and soul into defending Captain Whitehall.
What she’d just managed to pull off was to get me to commit myself to her team. She knew from past experience exactly how to twist my noodles, and she’d adroitly done just that. I’d been sucker-punched.
The intriguing question was why she thought she needed me. She was the one with eight years’ experience in gay cases. She should know every devilish twist and turn on the subject. And the same with that trio she’d brought along with her. But maybe they lacked experience with murder cases. Maybe that’s why she needed me. Or maybe she knew her defense was hopeless and was grabbing at straws, any straw, even me.
Well, anyway, retribution was on the way. In less than twenty-four hours, Sergeant First Class Imelda Pepperfield was going to climb off an airplane and stomp her way into town. Just wait till she got a look at Katherine and her crew. The thought almost made me drool. This was the same Imelda Pepperfield who could shatter bricks with her tiny, beady eyes. She’d have them all spit-shining their shoes and begging for mercy. Hell, she’d probably get them all to turn straight.
I immediately got on the phone and called the Pentagon. An ice-cold voice answered, “General Clapper’s office.”
“Major Drummond here,” I said. “Could I speak with General Clapper, please?”
“Hold for a moment,” came the stiff reply.
I twiddled my thumbs for nearly five minutes before a warm, friendly voice said, “Sean, Sean, how are you?”
The voice was too friendly by half. Slick try, but I wasn’t born yesterday.
“Why’d you do this to me?” I moaned as pitifully as I could, because the central motive of this call was to load so much guilt on Clapper’s shoulders that he’d do anything for me.
“It wasn’t me, Sean. You were requested. By name.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten me into? I’m one of five co-counsels. You should see the others.”
He chuckled. “I’ve seen photos of Carlson. She doesn’t look so bad.”
“Don’t be fooled by her exterior. Her interior belongs in the crocodile pond, except the other crocs won’t have her.”
He chuckled some more. It was one of those phony, don’t-tell-me-your-problems, I’ve-got-enough-of-my-own chuckles. “Look, Sean, I needed to put a good man in there anyway. Someone tough, someone who can handle themselves under fierce pressure. When she asked for you, it made perfect sense.”
Now I was getting the old muzzle-him-with-compliments act. Clapper wasn’t pulling any punches today.
“Look, General, I’ll admit I’m just coming up to speed, but this thing’s dynamite. Spears did a tap dance on my ass this afternoon. I’ve already waded through two riots over here.”
“Believe me, I’m aware of the situation over there. It’s nearly as bad over here.”