Chapter 12, part 2.
Deanna was already waiting with a DVD inserted into the player, chips and popcorn on the coffee table, and a bucket of ice and sliced lemon ready to be added to the soda. Her eagerness was quite charming, but Alice couldn't help but wonder if it was still dictated by the crush rather than willingness to be friends; either way, she decided to follow Aaron's advice. The movie Deanna picked this time turned out to be better, and Alice actually found herself interested in the story.
"It's the first part, it's based on a book trilogy," Dee explained after they've finished. "I have all the books, if you wanna read them."
Alice wasn't that interested, but she agreed, feigning enthusiasm; despite all of her efforts, she still felt very awkward with the whole situation. She wasn't sure how to move on from that, except to just try be normal and never give Dee any reason to hope Alice's feelings might change.
Deanna wasn't her old sunny self yet—but she tried very hard, and it was actually a little painful to watch. Alice felt like allowing the situation to continue, she was re-victimizing Dee; but what else was there to do? Beyond any emotional relationship they had, there was also the fact that they were roommates—and Alice couldn't see a way of that continuing if she'd decided to cut Dee off. If Deanna were to remain—and Alice would never do anything to prevent it, feeling somewhat responsible for the young girl she'd picked up on the side of the road—they had to have at least civil relations. Strained friendship was better than nothing at all.
Alice went to bed with a heavy heart and stayed up most of the night, fighting her personal demons, this new one gleefully having joined all the others to torment her without end.
Alice sat in the gallery of the courtroom to watch the closing arguments. The trial lawyer's speech was very nice, she thought: calm, measured and logical. It wasn't free of surprises, though—at least for Alice, who didn't participate in the trial after her own statement.
"It is quite natural to gravitate towards those we know, those we find similar to ourselves," he said at one point. "But remember that virtue is not determined by sex or the color of one's uniform. We have all heard the jokes about the 'Chair Force', about how they don't understand real combat. But I urge you to think who of the two, the defendant or the victim, might know combat better: that who has spent all of their career in training, or the one who has medals and scars to prove their courage in battle? Who is truly the person after your own heart?" He shook his head. "And if you still have doubts, remember that Major Boyd, who spoke so well and eloquently about the horror the defendant put her through, is not alone in accusing him: as you know, her testimony inspired three more women to come forward. Their cases will be heard on separate proceedings, but you can't ignore the fact that this is no longer an exception with regards to the defendant's behavior; it is a rule. And you must be aware that an abuser, unless stopped, will continue to abuse. The power to stop him from harming any other woman lies with you. Use it well."
So she had been right; her testimony did move other women to come forward. Alice wondered if one of them was Specialist Hayes, and if what she had told her had any impact on her decision.
The defense counsel's speech was much more heated and flowery; while prosecution focused on evidence and only appealed to emotions and loyalties at the very end, the defense constructed all of their argument based on that. The JAG officer also reminded the members that guilt needed to be proved beyond reasonable doubt, and this, he claimed, had not been done. The trial counsel's rebuttal was short and to the point—enumerating existing evidence and witness statements again shortly, and closing by pleading again not to be swayed by ill-understood loyalty to their branch.
After that, the judge called recess while the members of the court-martial withdrew to deliberate on the verdict. Alice used the time to go to the bathroom first, and then spent a long while staring out the window in the corridor—it opened on a small green square and she found it calming to watch the birds flying to and from between the tree branches. Eventually, she decided she needed caffeine and went out in search of a coffee machine. She was just getting the plastic cup from under the dispenser when someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned around and beheld a middle-aged woman in a smart business suit and a visitor's badge hanging from a pocket on her breast.
"Hi, Major Boyd?" The woman smiled in a way that seemed warm, but also somehow professionally cold. "My name is Sandra Ford, I am with the Colorado Springs' Gazette. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"
Alice cursed in her head. "Not really."
"It will just take a minute," the journalist assured her with another bright smile, unperturbed by Alice's apparent reluctance. "I am working on an article deep-diving into sexual misconduct at the city's multiple military installations. I have watched all of the proceedings in the trial against Major Cho, and I was really moved by your testimony—especially what you said about being strong enough to face the trial, which many women can't do for fear of harming their careers. I would love to talk with you about it, not just this trial, but the larger issue—get your perspective on how the military is doing in preventing and punishing sexual misconduct by its members and what more they could be doing. Would you mind sacrificing a couple hours for me?"
Alice resisted the urge to swear out loud or roll her eyes. "Uh, I'm actually really busy."
"You will find me very flexible—I can be anywhere and at any time you set," she fired back instantly, unfazed.
"Uhm…" Alice temporized by sipping at her coffee, and then grimaced; it was awful. "I don't think I'm the right person for this…"
"Nonsense." Sandra Ford shook her head; her confident professionalism was a little intimidating. "You have a unique perspective, and that's exactly what I need for this material. I just want to hear your thoughts, that's all."
"I'll have to talk to the Press Office first," Alice replied, using it like a shield.
The journalist sent her another bright smile. "Of course, Major. Please, call me when you've done that." She handed her a business card and then added nonchalantly: "If I don't hear from you in a couple days, I'll call you up at Peterson. That's where you're based at, isn't it?" Apparently she didn't need a confirmation, because she continued: "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Major—I'll be in touch." It sounded almost like a veiled threat, at least to Alice.
She turned around and walked away, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Alice shook her head, took another sip of the awful coffee, and pulled out her phone.
"Allie? What's wrong?" Aaron's voice was concerned as he picked up without a greeting. Alice understood why: she never called him that early during the day.
"Nothing, nothing. I'm in court."
"Oh. Did they give the verdict already?"
"No, still deliberating. Listen, I was just approached by a journalist who wants to interview me in connection with the trial and the larger issue of sexual misconduct in the military."
"How?" She could almost hear his frown. "Aren't these sort of cases closed to public?"
"Usually," she confirmed morosely. "That's my fault—I asked the trial lawyer to petition the judge to keep it open. I wanted other women in the base to know about it. I hoped they would hear that I was accusing Cho and maybe someone who's also been victimized by him would come forward… and it worked. Three more women filed reports on him. But—I didn't think that it meant there could press involved. I mean, I didn't imagine it would be of interest to anyone."
He sighed. "There is a reason why these kinds of cases are heard behind closed doors. It protects the privacy of the victim."
Alice cringed. The term victim, when applied to herself, bothered her. It made her feel weak and vulnerable, like she was helpless—and she did not want anyone to think of her that way, even if it was, to an extent, true.
"Is there anything I can do to stop her from running with this story?"
"I don't think so," he admitted. "If it was a public trial, they have a right to report on it. I think you could ask the newspaper not to disclose your name, but I don't know if they'll go for it. I mean, I've never seen a rape victim named in media, but that doesn't mean it never happens. I am not exactly an expert. I can call my lawyer and ask, though?"
She grimaced again at his choice of words—rape victim. For some reason, she preferred the term sexual assault. She knew they were not entirely interchangeable—the trial counsel had explained the difference to her. Going by the legal definition, she was quite certain Cho had been meaning to commit rape—but of course there was no way of proving a person's motivation, and since he didn't even manage to get his belt off, the actual charge was attempted sexual assault. Apparently the fact that he had forced a kiss—or, two, actually—did not merit bumping it to full assault, and it remained merely an attempt. Gotta make a case we can win, the lawyer had said.
"No, I told her I'd have to contact the Press Office, and I will—after I talk to my CO—but I thought maybe you'd have some advice on how to deal with her. I mean, you have so much experience with the press."
"I have a publicist who deals with the media directly, I mostly just show up and follow his instructions," he said and sighed. "Other than asking nicely not to disclose your name, I really have no advice. Or, maybe you could negotiate for it," he added as an afterthought.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if they really want to talk to you, maybe you can tell them yes, but on the condition that they keep your personal details out of print."
"Hmm…" She looked up at the ceiling, considering it. "That may be my only avenue," she conceded. "It could work, too. But I really don't want to talk to them."
"I know. It's not an easy thing to talk about." His voice sounded a bit deflated.
"No." She sighed. "Alright, I'll see what the Press Office tells me, and maybe I'll start by asking the newspaper politely to keep my name out of this, and if this doesn't work, then we'll see."
"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "And how are you feeling? How did the closing arguments go?"
"The trial counsel did an excellent job, but I fear it fell on death ears. I don't really count on a guilty verdict."
"Take heart. Maybe you're underestimating the jury. Maybe they'll rally and do the right thing."
"Well, we're about to find out," she said, noticing the bailiff calling everyone back in. "They've reached the verdict."
"Okay. Call me when you know?" He asked.
"I'll text you. I really have to swing by the base in the afternoon."
"Right," he answered curtly, and she knew he held his tongue on a comment about her apparent workaholism. "Just remember to eat something in between, okay?"
"Sure, sure. Thanks for the advice—I gotta go."
"Bye, Allie."
She put the phone back into a pocket, threw out the empty plastic cup, and went back to the courtroom.
Despite her apparent calm when talking to Aaron, she was filled with trepidation. Her palms were sweating so much she had to wipe them down on her slacks, wishing she could get rid of the uniform jacket. Suddenly it was too hot, even though the A/C was still going.
And then it was time. One of the officers that made up the "jury" stood up, cleared his throat, and read off a sheet of paper: "We, the members of the court-martial, with respect to charge one, attempted sexual assault, find the defendant not guilty—"
Alice heard her own breath escaping from her lungs with a whoosh, not exactly hearing the end of the sentence. All around her there were similar little noises: people exhaling with relief or gasping with indignation.
"We, the members of the court-martial, with respect to charge two, assault with battery, find the defendant guilty—"
And again, a cacophony of quiet reactions enveloped her. She hadn't noticed previously just how many people were there on the gallery; she caught sight of Heath and Sandra Ford from the corner of her eye.
"We, the members of the court-martial, with respect to charge three, larceny, find the defendant guilty. This verdict agreed to this day of September the 10th, 2012, at one-thirty in the afternoon, signed by the president of the court-martial, Colonel Trevor Uley."
Alice didn't really listen to what was going on in the proceedings after that; for the moment, she was locked inside her own head. She hadn't considered this eventuality. She had expected a verdict of not guilty on the attempted sexual assault and on the battery charge. She had thought they'd tag larceny as a consolation prize—after all, there was irrefutable evidence of her property being found in his house. It was merely a phone, so she expected a small punishment for that.
But in none of her musings had she ever figured that they'd actually convict him of the battery charge. It made no sense. If they believed he had attacked her, what was his motive if not sexual? If they didn't believe he had attempted to sexually assault her, what would have precipitated his attack on her? She had thought they'd believe it was a quarrel—maybe even provoked by her; that she had flirted with him, led him on, and then they got into a fight. But this verdict meant they actually must have believed he did attempt something of a sexual nature—that there was no consent on her part.
And then she realized she might have been wrong all along. That perhaps she had underestimated the officers who gave this verdict. That maybe they did believe her account of the events, in general—but not beyond reasonable doubt. After all, there really wasn't any evidence, save her own word, of the sexual component of the crime. And wasn't it how it was supposed to work? Innocent until proven guilty?
She was so focused on her own internal deliberations that she almost didn't realize that the proceedings have finished; it was the general commotion of people around her standing up and leaving the room that brought her back out of her trance.
"Major!" Someone called her and she turned around. Colonel Heath was trotting up to her between the pews. "How are you doing?"
She noticed, from the corner of her eye, Sandra Ford hovering nearby, listening greedily.
Alice modulated her voice to ensure that the journalist couldn't hear too well.
"Surprised," she replied truthfully. "I did not think this combination possible. I figured they'd find him guilty of larceny and that'd be that. But—" she added pensively "—I think, in the end, it's not an unfair verdict, considering how little evidence there was."
He nodded gravely. "I agree. I'm glad to see you take it so reasonably—you were rather upset the first time we spoke about this."
"When we first spoke, it had just happened," she noted soberly. "I had been a bit thrown, I'll admit it. But I've had time to think about it now. And, in the end, there are three more women who'll get their day in court because of all this." She waved towards the now-empty court below.
He nodded again. "Yes, a most welcome side-effect." He seemed earnest, declaring that. Alice had no love for him for the way he had initially dismissed her—but, in the end, he did take the report seriously, and, she had to admit, he was not a bad guy. Like many men, he was just comfortable with the status quo, because the status quo was good for him—or at least, neutral. He would most probably never be sexually assaulted by a fellow officer. But women, coming forward with their accusations, were an annoyance—so much work had to be done as a consequence of a report: investigation, court-martial, potential punishment. In the end, he saw that it was the right thing to do, but his initial gut reaction was only natural—if infuriating. "Am I going to see you back here for sentencing?"
She shook her head. "No, I have too much work to do to keep coming back here. The trial counsel will let me know."
"Alright, then. In case we don't meet again—it's been a pleasure, Major. I do think what you did was very brave—and I hope you'll forgive me for doubting you in the beginning," he added, as if he could've heard her musings a minute earlier.
She smiled quite earnestly. "Of course, sir. The pleasure was mine." And she shook his outstretched hand.
"Carry on, Major. You seem to be doing very well." He shot her a little smirk, nodded, and then turned around and left. Alice followed him a moment later, seriously hoping that the journalist did not catch too much of the conversation.
Not guilty of sexual assault, guilty of battery & larceny, she wrote to Aaron. Sentencing's tomorrow.
The answer came five minutes later.
Fuck. What does it mean?
Means proving intent beyond reasonable doubt is very difficult.
Ten seconds later, her phone started silently vibrating. She sighed and picked it up.
"What do you mean, intent? You told me the guy's literally force-kissed you," Aaron said, his voice angry.
"For which I have only my word," she answered calmly. "It's a better verdict than what I'd expected. Now to see what punishment they'll assign."
He exhaled loudly into the receiver. "Will you tell me what they decide?"
"As soon as I know myself," she promised.
"Wait, that sound like you're not gonna be there?"
"I won't, I'm going"—she stopped herself right before saying offworld—"to have to work tomorrow. That new assignment, remember?"
"Ah, yes. Does that mean you'll be incommunicado for long?"
"No, this part's short. I should be free in the evening, as usual."
"That means you'll stay at the base and continue to work," he said, a bit of censure mixed in with concern in his voice.
She rolled her eyes. "Either way, I'll call you tomorrow. I have to go now."
"Alright, Allie. Bye."
She touched the red receiver on the little screen. Sighing, she sat down at her desk. She had been putting it off, but there was paperwork that needed looking into; she'd delegated as much of it as she could to Rodriguez, but there was still a lot she had to do herself. Many things were getting automated or digitized these days, but the Air Force was still a bureaucracy.
The next day, the SG-7, as their undercover personas (Watson and Morgan also made up ones for themselves, in case it would be needed), went out to a couple trading planets again, looking at trinkets and gadgets, buying one or two in each place; more importantly, they allowed people there to see and get familiar with them. They were still newcomers and before they started their new hustle for real, they needed to become part of the background. On both worlds, they walked around untroubled by greedy locals.
They came back to Earth early afternoon and Alice, after changing from Nova's all-leather outfit into a standard green ABU and going through a post-mission brief with Carter (shorter and less detailed, this time), went right back into her lab to have a look at the items purchased offworld. She could hardly concentrate, though; she kept peeking at her phone, expecting it to ring any moment, but it wasn't until almost seven in the evening that it finally did and the trial counsel's voice came through as she picked up.
"It was a long process," he told her gravely. "I really tried to push for a higher sentence, but I'm afraid the defense had a really good standing there: Cho's record's been clean so far and there really weren't that many avenues to take."
"I'm sure you did your best," she reassured him, a bit impatient. "What's the sentence?"
"Confinement for thirty days and forfeiture of one-third of pay and allowances for three months," he said, and he sounded almost sad.
Alice realized she had been holding her breath, so she tried to exhale quietly. "That's more than I'd thought he'd get."
"He should get dismissed from the service at the very least, he's a disgrace to the uniform," he declared with zeal that surprised her.
"I agree. I went into this mess of a court-martial because I wanted him out—but I had to readjust my expectations since. You did a great job, Major. I believe we made them believe us, but I have to accept that, without any other evidence, there was reasonable doubt, when all we had was my word against his. But remember, there are three more women who filed reports on him. That is the most important consequence. Maybe one of their cases will succeed where ours failed."
"I hope so. By the way, they all said in their reports it was your bravery in speaking up that made them decide to come forward. I hope they won't back out now that they know the verdict."
Alice frowned. "Why would they?"
"Well, they may get discouraged, seeing that the sexual assault charge did not result in conviction. It would be easy to believe their cases would be equally fruitless. So far, only a few people know who made the reports, they can still withdraw. I hope they won't—but I want to prepare you for an eventuality that one or more of them might do it."
Alice sighed. "Well, thank you for letting me know. I'll keep my fingers crossed so that none of them do."
"I will, too. Well, Major—it was a pleasure working with you, even though the circumstances were not nice. I wish you all the best."
"Same to you," she replied with a smile, and put down the phone. The smile slowly faded away from her face as she looked into space for a long moment, thinking about what the lawyer had just told her. How probable was it that these women would back down? She didn't know, but she had to admit, if she were in their shoes—if her career was really on the line, and she saw that the trial against her assaulter ended up without conviction, she would think twice about going through with it. Was there a way she, Alice, could help them through it, so that they wouldn't withdraw? She didn't know their names; she had a suspicion that one of them might have been Specialist Hayes, but there was no proof, and they would most likely ask for their own proceedings to be closed to public.
She sighed, got up from the table and walked to her desk. Dropping into a chair, she opened the top drawer and picked up a business card she'd chucked in there last night. She put it into a pocket, rose and headed down to the Level 27. It wasn't until she stood in front of Carter's door that she wondered if the general would be in at this hour still; but she knocked and heard the familiar voice call Come in!
"General, do you have a moment?"
Carter lifted her head from her laptop. "Yes, God, please, I need a break from this." She waved at the computer with an expression of distaste on her face. "Nobody told me I'd have to be an accountant to do this job, too."
Alice nodded, coming inside and dropping into a seat. September was the last month of the fiscal year, which meant a lot of work related to closing 2012 and budgeting and forecasting for 2013.
"I have something I wanted to discuss with you, ma'am, and it involves the press."
Carter groaned. "Oh, great, my second favorite topic of late." She sighed. "Okay, what is it?"
"The court-martial found Major Cho not guilty on the sexual assault count yesterday," Alice began.
"I heard. They got him on battery and larceny, though, isn't that right?"
"Yes, ma'am. They sentenced him to thirty days in jail and docked his pay for three months."
Carter shook her head, her face clearly saying what she thought of that, but she didn't interrupt.
"Anyway, when I was there yesterday, I was accosted by a journalist from the local newspaper, the Gazette. She's writing a big article about sexual misconduct on military installations in Colorado Springs, and wants to cover the trial as part of it. It's my fault, I insisted on making it public in hopes of luring out other women he'd wronged—and it worked, but…" Alice shrugged.
"Now you have a problem." Carter nodded. "Let me guess, she wants to interview you?"
"Yes, ma'am. I was going to say no, but I don't know what their procedures are—I mean, it was a public trial, so they're not obligated to protect my privacy in any way. I really don't want to see my name in print—it would be bad for me, and it would be bad for the Program." She paused for a moment, pensive, and then continued: "I don't want to talk to her. I was going to kindly ask the newspaper not to disclose my details, but now I'm thinking… maybe I should say something."
Carter cocked her head to the side. "Why?"
"Three more women had come forward with allegations against Cho," Alice explained. "But it was before the verdict. I'm afraid they might want to back down now. I don't know who they are, and because of the victims protection clauses, there's no way for me to find out. But maybe I could, you know, reach them somehow, via the newspaper…"
The general frowned and didn't respond immediately, visibly thinking it over. Then she nodded determinedly. "If you want it, and you think it'll help, I think you should do it. Get down to Peterson tomorrow morning and talk to the Press Office; let them negotiate with the newspaper, they've got loads of experience with that. They'll also tell you what you can and cannot say about the Armed Forces—and I don't need to tell you what you can say about the Program."
Alice smirked. "Nothing."
"That's right. It's gonna take some dancing around the subject," she warned.
"Yes, and that leads me to my next question." Alice shifted on her seat nervously. "Is there something we can do about our cover stories?" She noted Carter's raised eyebrows and continued: "They're awfully weak. Hardly anyone ever believes mine. How am I supposed to reconcile my official job as a software engineer for military satellites with the very public awards on my record, or the scars I bear on my skin?" She shook her head.
The general mirrored her gesture. "You're the second person to come to me with the same problem in two days," she revealed. "Yesterday, Hailey came in to ask the very same question. She'd been clipped on the shoulder on her last mission," she explained. "Went to a party at her boyfriend's workplace over the weekend, and it didn't go too well when she tried to explain the injury and keep to the cover story at the same time."
"Exactly!" Alice spread her hands. "Yes. And—I don't like lying. I do it because I must, but I wish there was something closer to the truth that I could say that would not have me meandering around every goddamn time I meet a new person. But I have to wonder—how come this has never been an issue before?" The real question she wanted to ask was: how come Carter never seemed to have this problem?
Her CO understood the subtext. "Well, I didn't have any visible scars to belie my words when I was meeting anyone new. And my close ones—well, I'm sure they saw through the story, but they never made a fuss."
That Alice understood well. "Mine are the same," she acknowledged. "They wonder, but they hardly ever ask anymore."
"Most of the personnel here don't really need intricate cover stories," Carter mused. "The vast majority of them are what they are—SFs, technicians, support staff and suchlike. The SG teams are more complex, and they have various covers: security, intelligence, training instructors, air support. If they get injured on the job, it's not that hard to make up a reason why. It's only the science corps that gets a sciency cover; that policy goes back to Hayes's administration. It served us well in the past, but I don't see why we wouldn't adjust now, if it's no longer useful." She eyed Alice, suddenly looking tired. "I'll tell you what I told Haley. I'll talk to O'Neill about this—after the year close. I simply don't have the bandwidth right now."
"Of course, ma'am." Alice nodded. "Are you sure you don't need some help?" And she waved at the laptop and the stacks of paperwork next to it.
"No, I have to get through this on my own," Carter replied morosely. "I'm thinking of getting a real XO, though. Harriman is excellent, but I can't keep using him for this sort of stuff." She sighed deeply. "I don't know how Hammond or Landry did all this without help." There was something in her voice that made Alice feel defensive on her behalf.
"Well, ma'am, when Hammond was the CO, the SGC was half the size it is today," she reminded her. "And both he and Landry had been generals in major commands before coming here, so they had experience on their side. And you came in at the busiest time, right before the financial year's closing. I am sure that it'll get better in a few months."
Carter smiled to her. "Thanks, Alice. I think I needed that reminder."
Alice responded with a smile of her own. "But, in general, getting an XO is not a bad idea. Your time could be better spent on tactical and strategic tasks, rather than drowning in admin stuff. At least that's what I told myself after I'd delegated whatever paperwork I could to poor Rodriguez."
The general laughed. "Good for you. And you have a point. I wouldn't mind some more time to actually think over our goals for the next year. And, in calmer months, the XO could maybe liberate enough of it to let me get back to the lab—at least for a little while."
"See, and here you've got another difference between you and the previous COs. They merely waited for results of other people's work on science stuff, but you actually put thought into whatever problem people bring to you. That takes time, effort and headspace, too."
"Hm, maybe you're right." She nodded and then looked back at the laptop. "Oh, screw it. I'm going home." And she clapped it closed and got up. "Thanks for the talk, Major—it was helpful. Let's go change and we'll walk out together."
Alice got to her feet, too. "I was going to go back to work…"
"I know, but if I can walk away, you can do it as well." Carter grinned at her and ushered her out of the room.
Alice followed Carter's advice and visited the Air Force Press Office at Peterson the next morning. She spoke to a young captain manning the fort there, and had to admit he seemed to know his stuff: he knew Sandra Ford, had other contacts within the Gazette, agreed to take over the negotiations—and looked quite confident that the result would be in her favor; he also gave her a mini-lecture (apparently well-rehearsed) on what she could say and how she should speak about all matters related to the Air Force, the Armed Forces in general, and any and all items that weren't for public consumption. He promised he'd call the next morning with news and Alice thanked him and left for the SGC.
That day, her team went out to two more planets, just letting themselves blend in with the crowd again. Alice was eager to start the next mini-stage—which would mean actually starting to sell back the things she'd mended—but, she told herself, rushing would only endanger the mission. For it to work, she needed to be patient and let it all progress as planned: slowly. It ran against her nature; as much as she loved science, there was still a part of her that was a fighter pilot who loved fast-paced action with near-instant gratification.
The next morning, Alice received a phone call from the captain at the Press Office, detailing the deal he'd negotiated with the newspaper.
"They will keep your details out of print: name, place of posting, occupation, anything that could make you easily traceable," he told her; he sounded proud. "They will release your rank, age and branch affiliation, but nothing more, unless you give them express permission. We'll be able to authorize the interview—not the final article, mind you, just what you say to Sandra."
"That's an amazing concession," Alice replied, impressed. "Very good job, Captain."
"Thank you, ma'am," he answered, trying to sound modest and failing.
He hadn't set up the time and place for the interview, he told her, because he did not have access to her schedule; she would have to discuss it directly with Sandra Ford. And so, as soon as she hung up, she dialed the number on the business card she'd received from the journalist. Sandra seemed happy enough with the negotiated deal; or, at the very least, she didn't let her feelings get through the layer of professionalism that enveloped her like a shield. She suggested the next morning for their meeting, but Alice refused.
"I have work to do," she explained; she knew she'd be offworld. "I didn't lie to you when I said I was really busy. Would it be okay if we met at some point during the weekend?"
"Not a problem at all," the journalist responded immediately. "Saturday afternoon?"
"Sounds good. Seventeen hundred?" And then she remembered herself, and repeated: "Five PM?"
"Excellent. Rests to decide where. I was thinking, maybe we could meet at the bar? You know, where it happened?" Sandra suggested.
"Uh, I don't think that's such a great idea," Alice replied, scrambling for an acceptable reason; I don't think I could be calm enough there wasn't one. "It's a bar—crowded and loud. I'd much rather we found a more quiet place. Isn't there a nice little café on the corner of Boulder and Tejon?" She remembered. They'd visited it with Dee one time a while back and it seemed nice.
"Ah, yes, a pleasant place to talk, indeed. Of course, let's meet there at five PM on Saturday, then," Sandra confirmed.
"Alright, then, see you there, Ms. Ford." Alice hung up with a sigh of relief. She had to remind herself why she'd decided to do this; the mere thought of talking about it all again, and with a journalist to boot, threw her into a state of silent panic. But, she told herself, if it helped even one of Cho's other accusers stay in that course—it would be worth it.