When Secretary Byer had finished, Jay stopped him from disconnecting.
“I have a question, Mr. Secretary. You’re intimately familiar with the Oval Office. Would you describe for me what’s outside the door on the western wall? I need to check my memory, and trust me, this is very important.”
In the courtroom, Campbell had hit the “play” button on his camera, starting the tape toward the end of the sequence when the President and Reynolds were apparently leaning over a map discussing the impending raid.
Campbell pressed the “pause” button then and turned to O’Connell.
“My Lord, as to the authenticity of this recording, I call your attention to the small item visible on the desk. You see there the Great Seal of the United States in the form of a medallion encased in what appears to be lucite, and just to the right you can see several papers bearing John Harris’s signature.”
Campbell returned to his table and selected a piece of paper that he handed to the clerk before handing a copy to Michael Garrity.
“I would enter into evidence at this time a personal item from my own collection of mementos, a letter from John Harris dated in 1985, which bears his signature. You can see that his signature on those letters on the screen, and the one in this exhibit, are identical.”
Michael thought of objecting on the grounds that it wasn’t the opinion of a graphology expert, but the gesture would be futile at best.
“I’ll admit that, Mr. Campbell.”
Jay had returned and was sliding back into his chair as Stuart Campbell turned the camera off. Jay began whispering urgently to Michael Garrity.
“Mr. Garrity?” the judge asked. “Do you rest, sir?”
“Just a second, My Lord,” Michael answered, ignoring the scowl on the judge’s face. In a few moments he stood up and gestured toward Jay.
“My Lord, we have received additional evidence that is extremely material to this case, and I ask you to permit Mr. Reinhart to recite it as he has just recited it to me.”
“No.”
“My Lord…”
“If you’ve something to say, Mr. Garrity, you will say it. You are the barrister before this court.”
“Very well, My Lord, although I was afraid I had no further credibility before you.”
O’Connell looked at Garrity as if he were seeing him for the first time.
“Mr. Garrity… I have reflected on my previous comments, and they were, perhaps, a bit hasty. I shall not cite you for contempt for your… your show earlier.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“State your new evidence.”
“As your Lordship knows, the Treaty Against Torture, otherwise known as the United Nations Convention Against Torture, under Article Three specifically prohibits any member state from sending, by extradition or otherwise, any person to a country in which there is a reasonable possibility that prohibited acts of torture or infliction of pain without coloration of law may be inflicted. Mr. Reinhart has just received confirmation from the Secretary of State of the United States, and from Washington, that the United States Government has new evidence that the government of Peru is about to be cited by a section of the United Nations for human rights abuses, specifically for the systematic torture of political prisoners, including the infliction of torture and unusually harsh punishment against two former Peruvian legislators. Placing Peru on such a list formally declares that until removed by the U.N., Peru is to be considered as a matter of law to have a demonstrated propensity for torturing any prisoner of former political standing. This information meets the applicable definitions of the Treaty Against Torture wherein it prohibits extradition of any person to a state that may reasonably be expected to use prohibited methods of torture or unusual punishment against such a person. Clearly, a former President of the United States fits this category, and since Peru may be said to have a clear intention to inflict torture and unlawful pain on the person of John Harris, any request for his extradition to Peru must be summarily denied.”
“Mr. Garrity,” the judge replied, “have you anything but verbal statements to make to support this charge?”
“Yes, My Lord, but it will take several days to physically receive the certification from the United Nations Directorate involved.”
“Then your motion to vacate the application for extradition is denied.”
“My Lord, I then move to adjourn this matter for ten days, or in the alternative, if the court proposes to issue orders, I move to stay execution of any such arrest or extradition order, for ten days. We must have time to produce those instruments.”
“I imagine,” the judge said, “that Mr. Campbell will have a rather impassioned response to that motion, Mr. Garrity.”
Stuart Campbell remained seated, his face impassive as O’Connell looked at him with increasing puzzlement. “What say you, Mr. Campbell?”
“My Lord?”
“I assume you have an objection to Mr. Garrity’s motion?”
“No, My Lord. I do not.”
“No?” O’Connell asked, his face betraying complete confusion.
“No.”
“Mr. Campbell, Mr. Garrity is asking to adjourn these proceedings for ten days, and you are not objecting?”
“No, My Lord.”
The judge sat in confused silence for a few seconds before sighing and shaking his head.
“Very well, then. I am going to consider granting the motion. We’ll take a momentary recess.”
FORTY-SEVEN
“How far out?” Craig asked, his voice crisp but more strained than Alastair had ever heard it.
“One hundred forty miles from the airport. About ninety from land.”
Craig studied the fuel gauges over his head, his lips almost white.
“How much left?” Alastair asked.
“Not enough. We’re under six hundred, if I can believe the gauges.”
“Six hundred per side?”
“No. Total.”
“Oh, Lord,” Alastair said.
“I don’t want to descend down at the normal point,” Craig said. “Let’s wait until we’re within fifty miles of the field, just in case.”
“Agreed.”
Craig punched the interphone button and waited for Jillian to come on the line.
“Jillian, I want you to get Elle and Ursula briefed and strapped in with life jackets on. Get Sherry, the Secret Service guy, and the President in life jackets as well as yourself, and get everyone seated about midway back in aisle seats. Review where the life rafts are. And hurry. I don’t think we’re going in the water, but I want to take no chances.”
“Okay,” she said and was gone.
“EuroAir Ten-Twenty, contact Galway Approach now, one twenty two point four. He understands your fuel emergency.”
“Roger Shanwick Control. Thank you.”
“Good luck, sir.”
Alastair switched the frequency and punched the transmit rocker switch.
“Galway Approach, EuroAir Ten-Twenty, level flight level three one zero. We have ATIS information Bravo.”
“Roger, Ten-Twenty, radar contact one hundred twenty-six miles from Galway Airport. I’ll provide you with radar vectors to the ILS approach runway zero nine at Galway.”
“Roger.”
Craig was looking up at the fuel gauges again.
“What?” Alastair said.
Craig diverted his gaze back to the forward instrument panel. “You don’t want to know. Just do a little praying, please.”
“Roger.”
Alastair passed the request to remain at altitude until fifty miles out to the controller.
“How far?” Craig asked.
“One hundred and five miles,” Alastair said, at the exact moment the gauges for engine number two on the right wing began winding back toward zero thrust and temperature.