The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters), Sheehan-Miles, Charles [reading an ebook .txt] 📗
- Author: Sheehan-Miles, Charles
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“When we got back to the base camp, it was like ... unreal. I couldn’t get my mind around the fact that it had even happened. One of the new guys got blown away a couple weeks later, and then Sergeant Martin got hit and rotated out. So basically I was on my own. I ... I snuck into Colton’s office one day, and dumped all his email and pictures to a flash drive. And when I went through it ... fuck there were pictures of the kid in there.”
“So you collected this information. And then what?”
“I waited. And we rotated back to the United States. And I got my discharge, and as I was clearing the post, I put a report and the thumb drive in an envelope and dropped them in the mail. Then I got my discharge and walked away.”
I wanted to walk over to Ray and pull him out of that chair and hug him. I couldn’t. He’d committed to this, and they weren’t finished with him yet.
“Did you know the name of the boy?”
“Kowalski called him Speedy. He played soccer ... he was fast. A good kid.”
The prosecutor leaned forward and said, “Sergeant Sherman. Do you feel at least partially responsible for the death of that boy?”
Elmore jumped to his feet. “No. I object. Don’t answer that, Ray.”
“Yes, I do,” Ray said. His face was grey as he spoke.
Elmore turned to Schwartz. “Sir, I insist that statement be struck from the record, on the grounds of the fifth amendment. I don’t think my client understands what he’s doing here.”
Schwartz shook his head. “First, I’m sure you’re aware I don’t have to make any rulings of any kind on objections, Major, and second, your client is well aware of his rights, I’ve explained them to him more than once, and I know you have too. However, if you wish to question the accused, please feel free. And Major?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Have a seat. Now.”
Elmore sighed, frustration clear on his face, and Schwartz turned to the prosecutor. “Do you have any further questions for the witness, Captain Cox?”
“No, sir.”
“Major Elmore, your witness.”
Elmore leaned forward and said, “Sergeant Sherman. How many minutes was it between the time Colton shot Sergeant Martin and before he shot the boy?”
Ray looked confused.
“How many minutes?” Elmore repeated in a fierce, angry voice. “If you feel responsible, you must have had plenty of time to step in and intervene, right? How long was it, Sergeant?”
“Not minutes. It wasn’t even seconds. He ... fired the one shot ... Martin went down, and then he swiveled and shot the kid. I never had a chance to do anything.”
“All right then. What should you have done right afterwards? Did you shoot Colton?”
Ray shook his head. “No ... that’d be a fucking laugh for the Taliban, don’t you think, if we had a shootout between U.S. Army fire teams out there?”
“So ... are you saying you couldn’t take Colton out at that time?”
“Not without causing a complete meltdown of the platoon. I don’t know. Maybe I could have. I don’t know.”
Elmore rolled his eyes. “No more questions.”
Schwartz turned to the prosecutor. “Any more questions?”
There were none, so Schwartz turned to Ray. “All right then. As you know, my role is to investigate and try to come to some conclusions about the events which took place, and then I’ll forward my recommendations to the Convening Authority, who will determine if a court-martial is necessary. As you know we have several accused in this case, and I expect to be at least four to six more weeks before I’ll be ready to submit my report. In the meantime, Sergeant Sherman, you may return to regular duties effective Monday. If we have any further questions, I’ll be in touch.”
Well, did you? (Ray)
Ten minutes later we were in Dick Elmore’s office, and I stepped back in shock when Carrie said, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Ray? Why did you do that?”
I looked at her and shook my head. “I had to.”
“I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you would risk yourself to defend Colton, after all that’s happened.”
I swallowed. “It’s not about Colton. It’s ... it’s about me, all right? I didn’t see any choice. I can’t go into this without speaking for me, all right?”
“You’re trying to get yourself convicted!”
Elmore said, “You could have fooled me, Sherman. Don’t think they won’t use that against you at the court-martial. I can do my best to defend you against the prosecutor, but there’s nothing I can do to defend you from yourself, Ray. No more fucking stunts like that.”
I took a deep breath and ran my hands through my hair. “All right, all right! Sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Both of them looked at me skeptically, and I turned to Carrie and said, “Can we just get out of here?”
Carrie and I barely spoke on the drive home. She was tense, even driving with her hands jerking at the wheel, overcompensating on the brakes. Finally, we got upstairs to the condo, thank God. I was afraid she was going to punch me on the elevator.
She unlocked the door, her hands shaking, and stalked in, walking straight to the kitchen, where she started rummaging for something to drink.
“Carrie ... are you all right?”
“No!” she shouted. “My career is in limbo and you’re on trial and none of this was the life I wanted or expected or ... shit!” Her voice broke in frustration.
I leaned against the wall as she came stalking back into the living room, a beer in hand. “I have had it up to here with all of it, and then you had to go and do that today. And I’m just like ... why? Don’t you care about us? Don’t you want to stay free?”
I licked my lips. I didn’t
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