Chapter 7: Cam's Testimony
Abbie asked the judge if they could recess for an early lunch, as the next person she called would be Corporal Arlington, and the judge granted the request. Abbie disappeared as soon as the judge granted the request, presumably to warn Cam she was going to be called next and to finalize strategy.
Clayton wandered out into the hallway, intending to go grab a sandwich or something with Courtney (he was curious as to how the recording was going, although he'd carefully avoided the mess last night, knowing that if they were caught he would be asked and he had to maintain plausible deniability) but to his surprise, the man he'd seen get up from the defense gallery and cross to the prosecution's side was just outside the door and took a few steps forward, holding out his hand. "You're the commanding officer for those soldiers in there."
It wasn't quite a question, but Hawk answered it anyway. "Major General Clayton Abernathy. And you are…?"
"Marcus Bennett, Chairman of the Board of Directors for Kennedy Capital."
Ah. Now Kennedy's anger made sense. This man would have been the next person down the chain of command in Kennedy's company—the fact that he'd apparently 'switched sides' would have been a huge blow to Kennedy and his ego.
However, Clayton couldn't rule out the possibility that this could be a fact-finding, fishing attempt by the defense, so he was guardedly polite when he shook the guy's hand. "Yes, those are my soldiers."
"I haven't even heard the second soldier's testimony yet and already I'm pretty sure I don't want to," Bennett said quietly. "What I heard in there, yesterday and today, is pretty gruesome. I won't say I'm not surprised at the charges, but I'll also say that Kennedy is perfectly capable of every one of those heinous acts, and then some. The FBI profiler's assessment of Kennedy's personality was spot on. Kennedy doesn't care about anyone but himself. He's arrogant and rude to everyone who isn't at the same social rank he is, and even with those on the same social strata, his kindness, generosity, and consideration stops at others who can do things in return for him. If you can't do anything for him, in whatever way, then you're not worth getting to know or talk or help." He looked at Clayton directly. "I realize you think I might be on a fishing expedition. Let me assure you that I'm not. I'm not going to ask you any questions. I just…I wanted you to know that we know your soldiers aren't lying, that Kennedy is perfectly capable of doing the things he's been accused of, and we aren't going to support him. I'm going to have a word with the board about reinstating the pensions once Kennedy goes to jail. And either way, his career with the firm is finished. He might be able to remain a stockholder, but his days of being able to make decisions for the company are over."
Knowing that Kennedy was going to lose his financial base filled Clayton with vicious satisfaction. A cold-hearted bastard like Kennedy didn't see others as human so what he'd done to Shana and Cam wouldn't leave a dent in his ego, but having his company yanked out from under him, losing his income and assets…that was what would hurt the most. If the only thing he understood was money, then that was the best place to hit him.
He stopped Abbie on her way back into the courtroom and told her what the man said, and saw satisfaction, allayed by worry, fill her eyes. "I'm glad to hear that his company knows him for what he is, and that they'll cut him off after the trial, but I'm also worried about what that will mean for my restitution request."
"Restitution?" Clayton hadn't even thought about that.
"Yes. Restitution. After what your soldiers have gone through, major General Abernathy, I'm asking for restitution to cover medical expenses."
"They don't need to touch his money. We take care of our own." Clayton was indignant.
"I know you do. But there are things not covered by your medical. And besides, it's the principle of the thing. Kennedy should pay for what he's done to them, and he can certainly afford it—he owns millions of dollars worth of property in various countries worldwide, none of which he's going to be able to take with him to jail. It's only fair to pay his victims for what he's done." Abbie sighed. "Come on. Court's about to start."
Alex wheeled Cam's chair into the courtroom , held it for her as she climbed into the witness box and was sworn in. "I volunteered to go with the team to the Congo. Navigation—especially in unfamiliar terrain—and tracking are my military operating specialty and is something I'm good at. My commanding officer at my prior assignment at Fort Benning thought I would be good for long distance recon patrol work and sent me to survival school training, which was where I met General Abernathy. He invited me to join his unit when he was done because he said he could utilize my talents better, and so when the Congo mission came up I welcomed the chance to go out there with a team to rescue kidnapped children.
"When Shana disappeared we were all helpless. She is a major, irreplaceable part of our team, our unit, and a very close personal friend; I couldn't imagine what base would be like without her, and so when we got back I came up with a plan to go undercover to try and find her.
"I was in a human trafficking situation before. I lived at Osan Air force Base with my father, a US Air Force vet, until he died in a plane accident. The US military tracked down a couple of relatives, my Aunt and Uncle Park, and sent me to live with them in New York, where I thought I could train for a career as a ballet dancer. Instead what they did was take me to a vacation estate in Western New York and held me captive for three years while taking large sums of money from people for the privilege of…of molesting…me." Her voice was flat, hard; Clayton could see how much of a struggle it was for Cam to talk about this part of her life. "But because of that, I knew what was required of a 'slave'. I knew how to behave, how to act, what to expect…and it was the only way I could see to get into the underworld of the slave market and get her back.
"Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett and First Sergeant Conrad Hauser took me to the slave market in Amsterdam and dropped me off; it was hard for them to watch. It was even harder for them to have to turn and leave me there, knowing what I would face, knowing that even with the tracer implanted on my scalp, there was still a very good chance they would never see me again. I knew it, too; despite what I told everyone at base about there being only a limited number of people in the world who could afford to buy Shana—Master Sergeant O'Hara—and needing to keep a damaged meat slave around so that if she did something they had to punish her for they wouldn't hurt her resale value by scarring her, I wasn't at all sure that I would be able to find her; and once I found her, to be able to stay with her." She raised her head and looked at Kennedy steadily, ignoring the steely hatred in his eyes. "That is the only thing I have to thank you for; suggesting to the slave market dealers that we be sold together, and then purchasing us together. I don't know if you saw the two of us fighting to reach each other and just found some spark of pity down in your heart for us, or if you just wanted know we'd have to watch each other be tortured, but we were sold together and you bought us together. For two hundred fifty thousand dollars."
It was the first time the jury had heard that, and there was a shocked gasp from one juror, instantly stifled. Kennedy shot a glance at the jury box, but since all of the jurors looked dismayed or unhappy or shocked, he couldn't pinpoint who had spoken and he returned his gaze to Cam, sitting in the witness box.
"He made us get dressed in military uniforms by threatening Master Sergeant O'Hara until I got dressed, then threatening me until Shana got dressed. He gave us an injection of something he said would put us to sleep so we'd pass customs, and I don't know how much time passed but when we woke up we were in some sort of underground torture chamber, in cells off the main room."
Her words slowed as she tried to describe what it had been like to watch them inject Shana and interrogate her, praying that her friend wouldn't tell them how they knew each other; then they came to her, injected her. "I knew something was wrong when my chest tightened and I couldn't breathe; I figured I must have had a bad reaction to the drugs, but then I kind of lose track of what happened after that. My next conscious memory is of Shana looking down at me, looking relieved, and my chest hurt because she'd been doing CPR—but as soon as they knew I was conscious they pulled her away from me, and then …"
She drew in a shuddering, harsh breath. "I'd never been raped while completely paralyzed before. It was…nothing I had ever gone through before prepared me for just how violating that was. When we woke up we were alone, and we set about trying to short-circuit the electronic cell locks and escape. We finally succeeded, and we found our way outside through the door of the laundry. We tried to escape but it became pretty clear that we were on an island and there was no easy way off. Added to that. Shana was going through withdrawal from all the drugs they'd been pumping her full of and I couldn't take a chance to try and swim for the next closest island, so I found a tidal cave on the east side of the island and we hid there for three days.
"She was spiking a high fever, mumbling and delirious, and I couldn't leave her for a moment, I couldn't risk her calling out and someone finding us, or her dying, so it was a few days before her withdrawal fever broke and I felt safe leaving her to go find food. One of the native islanders saw me, but instead of reporting me, she helped me—she told me where the surveillance cameras were, and she gave me a table knife that I then sharpened to give us a weapon. It was on a later hunting expedition that I saw Kennedy return to the island on his yacht-and I thought if Shana and I could just get on it, we could steal the boat and get away. And I was so focused on that that I never thought there'd be someone still on the boat, and we were caught. Shana was still really out of it, so there was no point in punishing her; they tied me between whipping posts and whipped me until I passed out. I'd…I'd had that happen before, when I was my Aunt and Uncle's little cash cow…but this was different, harder, I…Goddess, I almost wanted to die except that would have left Shana alone, and I couldn't do that…"
She described in a flat monotone that somehow hurt even more to listen to than crying and tears, how Rosa had taken the skin cultures from her leg. She described how, when they'd awoken, Shana had been given a whip and told to hurt her…and how Shana had refused and how the barbed wire whip had been used on her until Shana agreed to do what she was told. And here Abbie interrupted, warning the jury that they were going to see something graphic, and then she cued up a photo of Cam's back, taken as she lay unconscious on Doc's operating table right after their rescue. One of the jurors gulped and paled visibly; even Clayton was horrified. He'd known she'd come back in bad shape, but not this bad…and then another picture, Cam's back again. Healed now, but with the threadlike, writhing lines created by keloid scars, warping the skin and tightening it so that one shoulder was noticeably higher than the other. In the shocked silence Abbie Carmichael said evenly but with a tinge of anger and sorrow in her voice, "This is what Corporal Arlington's back looks like today after a couple months of healing. You'll shortly hear testimony from Medical Specialist Thomas Larivee, who was the first medical professional to evaluate Corporal Arlington during the rescue and he will catalogue for you the extent of her injuries. Suffice it to say that she is not on active duty at the moment and most likely won't be within the near future; Medical Specialist Larivee's professional opinion is that she will require months of rehabilitation and several surgeries to correct not only the surface scarring, but also scarring deep in the muscles of her back. Corporal Arlington is an accomplished dancer and enjoys dancing in her spare time—according to Specialist Larivee, it is unlikely she will ever dance again."
And Cam's composure cracked. She buried her face in her hands and started to cry, emotionally worn, drained, exhausted, and Clayton felt anger rising in him at Abbie Carmichael. How could she tell Cam that in front of a courtroom full of people? She knew how Cam was likely to take that news, how it would shatter Cam's dreams…why had she done that?
And then a sound of rustling cloth, and Clayton stared at the gallery behind Kennedy in disbelief. Six men, dressed in sharp designer suits, who had been sitting in the second row behind the prosecution table got up as one, en masse, and headed for the back of the prosecution gallery where Marcus Bennett sat. And Kennedy went berserk.
He got up out of his wheelchair, face red with fury. Gone was the façade of the mild-mannered corporate exec framed by two scheming women for a crime he hadn't committed; the Kennedy who stood in the courtroom was showing his true colors. "Get back here," he snapped at the six men who'd moved their seats. "You are my employees. I pay you to say what I want you to say, think what I want you to think, do what I want you to do. You're slightly more human than these two whore slaves sitting up there, so act like it and get back here!"
The judge rapped his gavel. "Mr. Kennedy, you are out of line! Defense, calm your client down and keep him in order, another outburst like that and I will fine him for contempt of court charges. I would also like to remind the prosecution that this court will make its judgment based on facts, not emotional impact, so please don't drop any more such bombs in my courtroom to disrupt and prejudice the proceedings. Corporal Arlington," he addressed Cam directly, who was trying to get herself back under control and regain her composure "Please let me know if you need a short recess before we continue."
Cam shook her head, clearing her throat and scrubbing away the tears as she squared her shoulders. "I'll be fine, thank you. I'm sorry for the outburst. It won't happen again."
The judge smiled kindly. "It's all right, it was a shock and I understand completely. Feel free to let me know if you need a break and I'll call one." He turned back to the courtroom, cleared his throat. "Mr. Kennedy. You will maintain control of yourself while in my courtroom or I will charge you with contempt. As you have so clearly demonstrated just now that you do not need the wheelchair, you will henceforth not be allowed to use it in my courtroom."
Kennedy was nearly purple. "And yet that slave bitch up there can use one," he sneered elegantly.
Abbie shot to her feet. "Objection, your Honor, my client is a Corporal in the US Army, not a slave bitch. And Medical Specialist Larivee will testify to the fact that as she is still recovering, she gets fatigued and exhausted easily and it is therefore helpful for her to travel long distances in a wheelchair. However, if your Honor requests it, we will avoid its use."
"As much as I would like to allow Corporal Arlington to use the wheelchair, I do need to maintain the impartiality of this court and reduce emotional impact on what is a highly-charged trial. Therefore, yes, I would ask that as it is not completely necessary, please refrain from using it."
"So noted." Abbie sat back down.
"With all that in mind, I am going to call a recess for the rest of the day. Court will reconvene tomorrow morning at nine." The gavel fell, and everyone in the gallery rose.
The door at the back of the courtroom opened, and Charlie stalked in. His air of dignity and bearing silenced the courtroom as he came up the aisle and stepped up to the witness box, holding his hand out to Cam. She took it thankfully, and leaning on him, made her slow way out of the courtroom on visibly-shaking legs.