He hoped his men didn’t get burned today.
Walking to the front, he made eye contact with Vegas, stiff with anger. Michaelson’s oil stained finger aligned over the trigger. Janovich on duty despite his swollen face. Young Folger with a white knuckled grip on his M-4. Ray, whose muscles intimidated more than his carbine. Stalking at his side, the dog sniffed the air.
Damn Mavis. The woman had the uncanny knack of being right. One false move and the whole place would erupt.
And the civilians would get hurt.
With the modified stock on the M-4, his men would keep firing until they were overrun. David nodded to Robertson standing by the entrance to the hall where the bastard Trent Powers was being held.
The private jerked his chin toward the empty seat behind the defendant’s folding table.
Manny hadn’t returned.
Good. Someone had reminded the kid of how much he had to lose. Powers wasn’t worth it. David removed the reserved sign as he passed. He pointed to an elderly woman worrying rosary beads between arthritic fingers. A man in his forties helped her to the seat then returned to his post by the serving station.
After one last look, David turned his back on the crowd. His footfalls blended with the buzz of chatter.
Mavis, General Lister and two full bird Air Force Colonels sat at a table. None of them wore their Kevlar vests. The higher ups always did like making it hard on the enlisted folks.
Standing next to the prosecutor, Lieutenant Sally Rogers fiddled with the camera aimed at the judge’s table in the front to record the proceedings. She smoothed back her hair, resuming her seat at a desk. After checking her side arm, she rested her fingers on the keys.
The American flag stood to the left of the judge’s table. The Arizona State flag hung on the right.
The clock recorded one minute until zero-six-hundred. Almost show time.
He thumbed the safety off his weapon and planted himself beside Mavis. The dog stretched out in front of the stage. He’d do his best to keep her safe, get her out alive.
“I have coffee if you need any,” she whispered behind him.
“I’m fine.” With her at his side, he faced the crowd. His hands rested on the carbine.
A Marine appeared in the hallway and nodded.
Lieutenant Rogers stood up. “All rise, this court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Bob Anderson presiding.”
Feet stamped, metal chair legs scraped linoleum and fabric rustled as everyone in the cafeteria pushed to their collective feet.
Mavis set her hand on his back, cupping his shoulder blade through his vest. “I think it only fair to report that dozens—”
“—One hundred three—” Lister interrupted.
“—One hundred and three military issued tablet computers have gone missing,” she finished.
David shook off her touch. What the hell was she doing distracting him now with such nonsense?
Lister coughed. “And the evidentiary database has been accessed nearly two thousand times.”
Holy shit. The whole of the camp must have looked…. David turned as the judge draped in a purple graduation robe strode toward the desk. “Which files?”
Mavis smiled. “Why Trent Powers’, of course.”
David grinned. Hot damn. Trent’s sneaky maneuver to be tried by a judge had back-fired. The people had access to all the ugly details of his crimes—no filter through counsel or the courts. Made him glad he’d linked Colonel Henry Dobbins and PFC Singleton’s death to the case.
Lister smoothed his jacket. “We won’t be prosecuting anyone for the violation. I have to agree with the Doc that sometimes full disclosure is in the best interest of the people.”
“We would like for you to collect our property back.” Mavis winked. “We’ll need the computers eventually.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Damn but she was brilliant. David had no doubt she’d arranged the whole thing. He stood up straighter.
The judge took his seat. He patted his pocket and removed a pair of readers. Unfolding the glasses, he hooked them behind his ears. “Sit down everyone. Can’t have you looming over me.”
After a few chuckles, the people who had chairs resumed them.
“Bring in the defendant and his counsel.”
The Marine disappeared down the hall. He returned a moment later with his comrade and the accused.
Trent Powers strutted to the defendant’s table. He waved to the crowd and gave them a thumbs up. The nutjob didn’t seem to realize the people weren’t exactly pleased to see him. His blue sweater had creases and a sticker clung to the back pocket of his charcoal trousers. His dress shoes reflected the fluorescent lighting.
His lawyer, Jake Turner wore loose jeans and a stained collared shirt. A blue and red tie hung from his neck.
David tightened his grip on the rifle. The fucker had new clothes. Where the hell had he gotten them?
Brother Bob tugged a single sheet of yellow legal paper from under his robes. “Will the accused please stand.”
Trent pushed to his feet.
“Having reviewed the case all night, I am prepared to render my verdict and my sentence at once. As explained to your counsel, there will be no appeals. My decision is final and binding. Do you understand?”
Trent’s brow furrowed before he smoothed it. “Of course, your honor.”
Good, the bastard was worried. David hoped he shit his shorts when he learned he was sentenced to die by firing squad. Every soldier would have live ammunition. Given the times, it would be foolish not to. And when they were done, the asshole would be in more pieces than a jigsaw puzzle.
That was justice.
Judge Bob adjusted his glasses and unfolded the paper. “I, Judge Anderson find you guilty on the count of first degree murder of your ex-wife, Denise Powers and second degree murder of your neighbor Belinda—”
A smattering of applause rippled around the cafeteria. Someone shouted a denial. A few in the audience set this jaws. Damn. Not everyone was on Mavis’s side.
“What!” Trent jumped and banged his fists on the table. “You can’t do this!”
Judge Bob glanced up. “Counsel control your client.”
“I’m sorry your honor.” Jake Turner reached for Trent.
Trent punched him in the face. “Lying, cheating.”
Judge Bob snapped his fingers at the Marines. “Restrain him while I pass sentence.”
The two Marines stalked forward, each grabbed an arm.
Trent dangled between them like a slab of beef—if beef kicked and swore while hanging from a hook.
David forced the smile from his lips. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving bastard. Now for the really fun part. The sentence. What would the asshole do when he learned he was about to die?
“This is a travesty! I’m innocent,” Trent yelled.
Judge Bob stood up. “The sentence is banishment.”
Banishment? Banishment! David slipped his finger on the trigger. What the fuck good was that? The fucking asshole would still be alive.
Standing, Mavis leaned over the table. Anger outlined her lips in white.
“You can’t do this!” Trent arched his back and slithered toward the floor. The Marines held him tight.
“If you are ever seen near any of our settlements, you are to be shot until you are dead.” Judge Bob pounded on the table. “Now get outta my sight.”
The Marines dragged Trent toward the hallway. The convicted kicked at any by-stander, twisted and turned. His curses rang from the wall.
The crowd murmured among themselves. Here and there, heads nodded. Some men punched their palms, women shook their heads. He wasn’t the only one unhappy with the sentence.