Chapter 12: Victim Statements
With the trial over, sentencing began.
Shana and Cam were allowed to make victims' statements; Clayton, knowing that Cam hated the spotlight, was almost sure that she would decline, so it was with some surprise that she made her way up to the witness stand the next day. In deference to her weakness, she was allowed to sit as she made her statement; her voice was steady, though low as she struggled to say what she'd obviously thought long and hard about.
"I can't begin to describe for you what all of this has been like. There's no way you could understand. I could talk until my voice is gone, and you would sympathize, you'd try to empathize, but there's no way you could know what all of this was actually like until you walked a mile in my shoes. And Goddess help me, but I don't want you to. If understanding me means that you would have to experience what I went through, I would rather you remained in ignorance.
"I was fifteen when I first experienced human trafficking and slavery. It left a very deep impression on my mind and on my body, in the form of the burn scars from the fire. I healed physically, but not mentally. I thought I'd healed mentally, but I was just fooling myself; I didn't try to heal, I buried it deeply, so deeply that I thought I would never have to look at it again, and joined the military. I excelled at what I tried to do, found a military operating specialty in something that I not only liked but was good at, and sought extra training to hone those skills. And it was during the course of that training that I learned that my past was my greatest weakness, and some of those around me, my training partners and instructors and squadmates, sought to exploit that weakness.
"But when I was invited to join General Abernathy's unit, instead of exploiting my weaknesses, they tried to help me overcome them. They took care of old physical issues. And Shana, in particular, was instrumental in helping me heal emotionally. Although there were times when I wanted to hate her for it, she forced me to let go of the secrets I'd kept so long, secrets that hurt me to keep, and in teaching me to let go she also taught me that the secret to life, and love, was to open up. She scraped at my nerves until I was angry, then worked with me patiently on weapons drills until the anger changed to a tired acceptance. It was just as hard on her as it was on me; she'd be already tired from a day drilling and working with the members of the unit, and then she'd pick up a practice sword and drill with me until I was exhausted and able to listen to what she said. It can't have been easy—but she did it, and in the process she became the first female friend I'd ever had.
"When she went missing in the jungle and we found she'd been sold to slavers—I knew what she would endure, I knew what she would go through. And I fought with myself, because I knew the only way we would get her back was if someone went undercover to find her. And it had to be someone who already knew what slavery was like, someone who knew what to do, how to behave, how to react, because anyone who didn't react right would be spotted, noticed, and killed as an interloper, an impostor. The problem was that a part of me didn't want to do it. Goddess help me, I'm so sorry, Shana, but I didn't. I'd just gotten married, I love Charlie more than my own life, and I was sure that leaving him was going to kill me. But every day I waited, every day I fought with myself, was one more day when something terrible could happen to you, and I knew that if you never, ever came back I'd blame myself for the rest of my life.
"And so I finally told Charlie what I wanted to do. I expected he would try to stop me, and he did, but he also knew I wouldn't rest until I'd done it, and so when I went to General Abernathy and told him what I wanted to do, Charlie supported me. There were a lot of things that had to fall in place before I could go, and I spent every minute waiting for it all to come together so I could go while at the same time wishing that something would fail along the way and I wouldn't have to go.
"But it did and I eventually found myself alone in the slave market in Amsterdam. I'd spent so much time as a slave during my teen years that it didn't take much for me to remember how to act, to look, to behave. And yet the whole time I kept looking at the entrance I knew I could leave if I wanted to, but I also knew that if I did, I would never see my friend again.
"That moment when I finally saw her—everything snapped into focus again. I knew I had to get her out, knew that while she was focused on figuring out what they wanted from her so she could stay alive, the fact that I knew how to act and behave meant I had a slight edge. And the fact that they had to drug her, heavily, just to get her to a point where they could handle her without her killing them, also didn't help.
"I can't describe what I felt when I first saw Kennedy looking us over on the auction block. Hatred. Fear—yes, I was afraid, but not of him, I was afraid for Shana, for what I knew he could do to her. We had to stay together, and while I was relieved when he bought both of us, I also knew what he was capable of because I'd seen others who acted the same. I met too many men like Damien Kennedy while a captive of my aunt and Uncle.
"And so I determined to make myself a bigger target, to try to get them to focus on me instead of her. I tried to deal, tried to be brave and accept it and try to survive, but after the…the barbed wire whipping…I gave up. I knew General Abernathy had arranged to come get us at the end of two weeks, but I really believed I wasn't going to make it—I thought I was going to die, and my only hope was to hold death off long enough to make sure Shana was safe.
"I…can't describe how I felt when I opened my eyes and saw Charlie and Snake Eyes and everyone else there. Relief, I wanted to just let go right there, they found me, they'd find Shana, and I did not care if I lived past that moment. But the minute they touched me the pain got so bad I couldn't even pass out. It wasn't until I saw Stretcher inject a needle in my arm that everything finally went away.
"When I woke up…I was in so much pain I barely wanted to move. Charlie…Charlie was a saint." Her voice broke; there were tears streaming down her face now. "He held me when I cried with pain, he coaxed and bullied me into staying alive when all I wanted to do was give up. The tiniest movement of the bed caused agony, so he brought in a folding cot and opened it beside our bed and slept on that just so he could be near me if I woke and needed something. He fed me when I was too weak to pick up the lightest plastic spoon, held a cup for me to drink, told me stories while I ate so I wouldn't have to think how much each bite of food hurt my raw throat going down. I look worse now than I did before—the scars deform my body, warp my skin and joints, and I'm in constant pain and I'm so weak and tired—but he holds me, stays with me, loves me, even now when I have a hard time loving myself.
"I can't explain what this verdict means to me. I didn't want him found guilty for me; I wanted him found guilty of hurting Shana, of hurting Charlie, of hurting Snake Eyes, Shana's fiancé; I wanted him guilty of hurting those women whose bones I saw under the fishing platform, I wanted him guilty of hurting everyone who knows and loves Shana and I both, everyone who suffered with us gone." She finished softly, "You gave me that. Thank you."
There wasn't a dry eye in the jury box as Cam made her way down and was replaced by Shana. "Thank you," Shana said without preamble, direct and to-the-point, as usual. "I've been in the Army for almost twenty years now. I've been on a number of missions for different assignments, tours of duty, and I can honestly say that while I considered some of the things I've done as 'hard', prior to this I simply had no idea just what 'hard' was. This…never in my life had I ever imagined that in this day and age, people as 'civilized' as Damien Kennedy could still own slaves.
"I knew, intellectually. When Cameron Arlington first came to our base, and Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett and I both found out that she suffered from acute undiagnosed PTSD due to her experiences growing up, I started working with her on it, talking her through her emotions and drilling her with weapons to get her to release the pent-up anger she'd been carrying since it happened. Seeing her flashbacks, her panicked nightmares, convinced me that she'd been through some horrible experiences, and a lot of what she told me made me want to shoot something, but it never struck me just how absolutely horrific this must have been on her until suddenly I, too, was a slave. And…I'm an adult. I know all about the 'birds and the bees.' She was…a child, an innocent, sheltered child, who thought only about dancing and dreamed of being a ballerina and dancing for the New York City ballet. The thought of her thus being exposed to the brutality of the world in the way that she did…I'm surprised she's become such a well-adjusted, intensely empathetic individual. With everything that she'd been through, it wouldn't have surprised me at all if she'd turned out like Rosa Capelletti.
"We endured the first few days at Kennedy's island before we tried escape. I was pumped full of drugs, with barbiturates and amphetamines and I wasn't really thinking clearly; it was Cam who got us out, who hid us and then got me through the first few days of withdrawal. I don't know how she did it, managed to keep us hidden from those who were looking for us, managed to keep me quiet in my delirium so I wouldn't betray us to searchers, and took care of our food and water needs. I can only imagine she didn't sleep at all those three days.
"And we were captured again, and she was punished, and it was brutal and horrifying and shocking. She went through so much…and that was when she told me about the tracer chip she was wearing that would lead our unit to us. She begged me not to give in, not to give up, because rescue was on the way; and all I saw was that she'd kept a secret from me; that I was her commanding officer and she had kept secrets from them that she should have told me, that I should have known, and I got very, very angry with her. I think that crushed her spirit, made her give up, and Cam, oh God, I am so sorry for being angry with you…I didn't realize until much later why you'd kept it from me, that you had valid reasons of your own to hide this from me and that in doing so, you saved both our lives.
"Cam made a very hard choice to enter an intolerable situation to find me and get me out. If she hadn't made that decision, come up with the plan; if our commanding officer General Abernathy hadn't okayed the mission, if Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett and First Sergeant Conrad Hauser hadn't agreed to the subterfuge that took them to the Amsterdam market, and if they had not somehow found the strength of will to walk away from Cam and leave her there—I know that can't have been easy, since Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett was the one who helped me counsel Corporal Arlington through her PTSD and she knew as well as I what Cam endured at fifteen—if none of those pieces had been in place, I would not be here.
"And I would not be upright, talking to you now, if it wasn't for my fiancé, Snake Eyes. It was a lucky roll of the dice that brought us to the same unit, and found each other, and there has been no one in my life but him since we met. The time never seemed right to get married; it would have long-ranging ramifications to both our careers if we did…but this incident has shown both of us just how precious life is, and how short it can be—shorter for us than many, because of our profession and what we do, and Cam has had enough sense to marry the man she loves. I can do no better than to follow her example. This isn't for show, this wasn't just for the trial. He stayed with me through the worst of the withdrawal after I got back, he nursed me through shock and pain and everything else, and I have him to thank for my presence here. The only thing that could validate his efforts was if Kennedy could be convicted, and you have done that. I thank each and every one of you for finding him guilty, for sparing anyone else from having to go through the ordeal we've all endured. Thank you." And she left the witness stand.
The judge had to clear his throat several times before he got his voice working. "Thank you for those words, Master Sergeant O'Hara, Corporal Arlington. Now, the court would like to hear prosecution's recommendations on sentencing."
Abbie stood up from the table. "Your Honor, in light of the facts of this case, prosecution would like to recommend that Mr. Kennedy spend the rest of his life in federal prison. His desire to own and control and possess another human being would lead to his compulsive need to do this again if he were released, so we are asking for one life sentence for the murder of each of the women whose skeleton was found under Kennedy's fishing platform, and another life sentence for the kidnapping, torture, and attempted murder of Master Sergeant O'Hara and Corporal Arlington." Abbie took a deep breath. "Prosecution is also asking for restitution from Damien Kennedy in the amount of five million dollars for Master Sergeant O'Hara and Corporal Arlington."
The courtroom erupted in a susurrus of sound, voices low enough for comments not to be heard clearly. Clayton listened; surprise, mostly; but there were sounds of approval, though here and there he heard the sound of disapproval.
"Five million? For each, Ms Carmichael? Do you think that's excessive?"
Abbie shook her head vehemently. "Your honor, Mr. Kennedy owns properties in various countries all over the world. He has over ten million in one Swiss bank account alone. And after all, your Honor, he paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for both at the Amsterdam market. Both Master Sergeant O'Hara and Corporal Arlington are going to need money on the road to recovery; Master Sergeant O'Hara will be seeking extensive counseling, and Corporal Arlington is still so weak she can't participate in much physical activity and is currently on medical leave. Also, Medical Specialist Larivee and Base Doctor Ed Steen assure me that she will need extensive surgery to correct the scarring and return her body to normal movement. And you cannot forget, Your Honor, that with the severity of the injuries Corporal Arlington has sustained, the one constant in her life, her dancing, has been taken from her, possibly forever. If you'll permit me a small demonstration…" The judge nodded, interest piqued, and Abbie cued up a video.
Cam. Dancing. Not with the ballet shoes and leotard Clayton was familiar with, but in a white sundress, barefoot, in the middle of a grassy meadow. Not the carefully structured, disciplined moves of the ballet, but this was…spontaneous, wild, exuberant. Charlie must have taken it while they were at her reservation in Western New York, in an unguarded moment. She was grace personified, beautiful not in face, but in form and happiness. He felt a lump rise into his throat, felt his eyes sting; he'd never seen her that happy at base, and looking at her in this video Charlie had no doubt shot with his cellphone, contrasting it with the agonized, pain-wracked creature who had been rescued from the island—Abbie couldn't have picked a sharper contrast.
And when he looked at the jury's face, and then the judge's, he knew Abbie was going to win.
The judge's eyebrows knitted together. "As Mr. Kennedy will obviously not need his money and his properties where he's going, I see no harm in disposing of it in a manner that will best benefit those he wronged most."
"Your Honor—" a rustle from the back of the room, and the man who'd spoken to Clayton in the hallway, Marcus Bennett, rose to his feet. "Several of the properties listed belong to the company and are not Mr. Kennedy's personal property."
"Then those properties will not be included in the tally of Mr. Kennedy's disposable assets—"
"Just a moment, Your Honor. Because several of these properties are not Mr. Kennedy's, it is up to the company to dispose of them as we please. Therefore, we propose placing them in the hands of Master Sergeant O'Hara and Corporal Arlington. The vacation land in New York we therefore propose to give to Corporal Arlington, as we understand that it borders the Iroquois reservation, and the plantation in Georgia we propose to give to Master Sergeant O'Hara."
Both Cam and Shana gasped audibly; the jurors, however, were nodding and smiling approvingly. The judge rapped his gavel. "Then it is decided. The western New York property will henceforth be the property of Cameron Arlington, and the Georgia property shall henceforth be the property of Shana O'Hara. This court also awards then the sum of five million dollars each, to be paid out of his assets and the liquidation of Damien Kennedy's private island—
"Your Honor," Cam said softly, so quietly that Clayton thought for a moment the man was going to miss it; but the older man leaned forward with a kind smile. "I…could you not sell the island?"
The judge stared at her. "I would have thought after what you went through you would never want to see it again."
"I…I don't. I never want to see it again. But…it is a beautiful place, and I thought…maybe…the victims of human trafficking who were freed from the Amsterdam market might like it there once some of the rooms and the—some of the equipment—has been cleared out. The large lava chamber that we were held in…with some redecorating, it would make a lovely group therapy room, and the quiet and peace of the island would be good for the victims to help recover. I'm sure that you could find some international group willing to take the island and repurpose it as a halfway house for human trafficking victims."
The judge held up a warning hand. "But if the island is not sold, that will reduce the amount of restitution you receive," he told Cam.
"I don't care," Cam said. "I don't care about the money. I want what's right." Beside her, Shana nodded too.
"Then as you are all apparently in agreement, the sum of restitution for Master Sergeant O'Hara and Corporal Arlington is set at three million each, plus the two properties given to each of the women. Damien Kennedy, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Your assets are forfeit. This court is now adjourned."