Code Name: Camelot (Noah Wolf #1)(8)



Mathers sat in her chair, staring at the young man who was looking her straight in the eye as he gave her permission to send him to his death. She already knew enough about his condition to realize that he was simply making what he considered the logical choice, but that didn’t assuage her conscience in the least. Without her help, he was going to be convicted, sentenced to death and executed, and probably within a very short time.

She had done a little research on death row at the US Disciplinary Barracks, and found out that there were several people awaiting execution there. Most of them had been waiting for years, but with the appeals process and changes in the White House, there were various reasons why they had not yet had their sentences carried out. Mathers didn’t think Foster would get to hang out with them for very long. Her gut hunch said that his execution would happen within months of sentencing, with all of his appeals exhausted as quickly as possible.

“And what if I can’t do that?” Mathers asked. “What if my conscience just won’t let me walk away? Sergeant Foster, the biggest problem I’m facing right now is the fact that I believe you. Yeah, yeah, I know there’s no evidence to back you up, but when I sat here and listened to you the other day, all I heard was a man who was calmly recounting exactly what happened. You weren’t telling me some elaborate story, you didn’t try to come up with excuses for why no one corroborates your claim, you didn’t try to protest that you are being mistreated—hell, Sergeant, all you did was answer my questions. A man who’s truly guilty, a man who’s trying to put one over on the system, he’ll come up with all sorts of things to say to try to throw us off. He’ll tell me how the men who are willing to testify against him are upset because he refused to participate in some ritual, or that their ringleader is gay and he refused an advance from him. You didn’t give me any BS—you just told me what happened, without any embellishments. In my experience, and in my professional opinion, that is something that only a man telling the truth would do.”

Noah smiled. “Lieutenant Mathers,” he said, “what on earth do you think truth has to do with it? This case isn’t about who’s telling the truth, or there would’ve been a real investigation of my report. Since we know there wasn’t one, then all this case really is about is pinning the blame for the congressman’s son’s death on somebody as quickly as possible. Now, I’ve admitted that I shot him, and they got all the other guys making statements saying that I did it just because I’m nuts, and calling me a liar about what really happened. People who just want to put something away as fast as possible don’t want to take the time to examine the facts. It’s easier just to point their fingers and say I did it, and here’s what they’re going to do to punish me, put the whole thing to bed in a hurry. That’s all they want to do.”

“That doesn’t make them right,” Mathers said. “You want my opinion, it makes them monsters. I went to law school because I believe in the law; I joined the Army because I wanted to make a difference in military law. Now I’m just supposed to walk away and watch you go into the lethal injection chambers? How am I supposed to live with myself, after that? You answer that for me.”

Noah pulled his hand back. “Lieutenant, I’m not the one who put you in this position. In fact, I’m the one who’s actually in this position, not you. You have an out; I don’t. You can walk away; all I can do is move forward, propelled along by a system that is being used by a political machine to cover up what really happened, to make me pay for Lieutenant Gibson’s crimes. If you can show me any fairness in that, then maybe I can help you figure out how to live with yourself when this is all over.” He rubbed his hands over his face, and she thought the gesture was odd. Most people used it to try to get themselves under control, but if there was one thing she knew already about Foster, it was that he never lost control in the first place. He put his hands down, and looked her in the eye once more. “Lieutenant, I don’t want to feel like I’ve hurt someone who’s innocent. Give me the form I need to file, so that I can release you.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t want to do that.”

“There really isn’t much choice,” Noah said. “You can’t win, and continuing to try will only hurt your career. If I’m going to die, I’d rather die knowing that I at least tried to always do the right thing.”

“Yeah, well that’s pretty much how I feel, too. If they win, then sometime, maybe a few months, maybe a few years, they’re going to kill you. When that day comes, it’ll be over for you, but I’ll have to keep living with it. Frankly, I don’t know if I can. If I don’t do whatever I can for you, then the day may come when I just can’t cope with being me anymore.” She looked down at the file in front of her and opened it up. “Sergeant Wolf,” she said, “tell me about your childhood.”

Noah’s eyes went wide. “My childhood? Surely you’ve been able to get at least that much information, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I want to hear from you. Please, go on.”

Noah let out a long sigh. “Okay, but you’re getting the Reader’s Digest condensed version. Seven years old, I saw my father kill my mother and then himself. Got sent to the foster care system, lived there for almost a year before my grandparents showed up to take me, lived with them for a short time until they figured out I was a Pinocchio, then they couldn’t cope with me anymore and I ended up back in the foster system. Grew up there, spent most of my time in a couple different foster homes, until something happened that made everyone afraid of me. I joined the Army to get out of my hometown, and I finally felt like I’d found a place where I fit in. The same parts of me that were considered a problem in civilian life became assets in the military, and I got a stack of commendations about what a fantastic soldier I was.”

David Archer's Books