Diamondhead by Patrick Robinson Page A

East peace talks. I don’t think the navy is that corrupt, but the president is our C-in-C, and if he has nudged Defense, informing them his advisers do not want you exonerated completely, there may be trouble ahead.”
     
    “Well, what have I done wrong?”
     
    “Nothing. But I have to warn you—we are dealing with politicians, right here in the near background. They might just want some small, vague offense to be proven, and that way they can pension you off.”
     
    “Pension me! You mean end my career?”
     
    “Possibly. Honorable discharge with full pensions and rights. But nonetheless dismissed from the navy, perhaps for reckless conduct in the face of the enemy.”
     
    “Jesus Christ—you mean they can throw me out just like that, with no appeal?”
     
    “They can. But I also think no one wants to do that. Everything depends on the pressure that’s been put on the navy by the goddamned politicians. Because to those guys, the life and career of one single naval officer are nothing. They’ll go on about such a small sacrifice, perhaps to help bring peace to the entire Middle East.”
     
    “Guess it’s only a small sacrifice if you’re one of them,” said Mack.
     
    “Yeah. But not if you happen to be Lt. Cdr. Mackenzie Bedford, right?”
     

    Captain Dunning and the other four panel members gathered in the anteroom behind the court. Sandwiches and mineral water were brought in, and two armed naval guards were on duty outside in the corridor. The atmosphere was very formal, and unaccountably tense. Not a smile passed between them as they silently weighed the evidence that could destroy the career and life of one of the most outstanding SEAL officers on the base.
     
    “Gentlemen,” said Boomer, “I would like to deal first with the critical issue that dominates the murder charges. And that is the question of the surrender. Because plainly if it had just been a missile and gun battle across the river, then Mack would never have been charged.”
     
    Everyone nodded agreement.
     
    “However, we do have a very different set of circumstances here, and we are all well aware of them.” The captain read from his notes, and then from a file of papers in front of him. “The Geneva Conventions,” he said, “permit using deceptions, or ruses, to mislead the enemy. That much is definite whether or not we agree with Commander Surprenant about their relevance to this particular case. I, by the way, do agree with him. Nonetheless, Geneva specifically prohibits some deceptions. And, I quote, ‘Feigning surrender in order to lure the enemy into a trap’ is one of them. Maybe the most important. The gist of this convention is obvious. The ruse is strictly forbidden because it causes soldiers to suspect all surrendering combatants of using this subterfuge. And this can lead to horrifying results, the principal one being that soldiers, as a matter of course, may become unwilling to accept any prisoner, and much prefer to kill him right away.”
     
    Boomer Dunning paused and looked around. Everyone was stern, thoughtful, and willing to be led by the former nuclear submarine commander.
     
    “There are ample examples of Iraqi terrorists feigning surrender. Mack Bedford was correct to be cautious, to take no chances. I find him not guilty on all charges relating to murder. . . . Any dissent?”
     
    Each man said no, as Captain Dunning knew they would. It was impossible not to understand this trial was being run under some kind of code. No navy court-martial was going to convict the lieutenant commander of any kind of homicide. Not unless they wanted to risk outright riot conditions in the U.S. armed forces.
     
    As to the issue of the Geneva Conventions, Boomer Dunning said flatly, “Surprenant is plainly right. The accords cannot apply to these murderous mobs with the illegal missiles. And, with your support, I’m going to order any and all charges involving the rules of war to be dismissed.