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of the thumb drive. The originals were then secured in an evidence locker.”

Cox walked to a table near the prosecutor’s table. This was all unnecessary—I’d written the damn report, and I’d conceded that. He held up a plastic envelope containing the thumb drive, and another containing the report, and showed them to Smalls.

“To the best of your knowledge, is this the report and thumb drive in question?”

“It is.”

“Please describe the contents of the report, Major.”

“The report was written by someone claiming to be Sergeant Ray Sherman. It described an incident, which took place on March 24th of 2012, accusing Sergeant First Class Benjamin Colton of committing murder, then Colton’s platoon conspiring to keep the murder secret. The thumb drive also contained several documents, which appeared to be copies of emails that described the shooting. Finally, it contained six photographs.”

“Thank you, Major. Colonel Martinez, with your permission, I’d like to enter these items in evidence as exhibit 1 and 2, which we will return to several times in the course of the trial.”

“Proceed, Counsel.”

“Major Smalls, please direct your attention to the screen on the south wall. Assistant trial counsel is about to display a series of photographs. Please identify them for the court.”

The stir in the audience was sudden, a loud murmuring as reporters shifted in their seats, realizing they were about to see photos. My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to see this. I saw it every night in my dreams as it was.

A photograph flashed on the screen, huge, eight feet by five feet, at least. It was Speedy. He lay on the ground in the mud. A bullet hole marred his forehead, and the ground around his head was stained nearly black. His eyes were open, in shock and fear, and his face had gone pale.

I closed my eyes and lowered my face in my hands. A second later, I felt Carrie’s hand on my arm.

Elmore, sitting beside me, whispered, “Look up, Ray. The board is going to think exactly the wrong thing if you hide your face right now.”

I groaned just slightly and looked up.

Major Smalls was talking. “That appears to be one of the photographs I found on the flash drive. On examination I concluded it was an Afghan boy, somewhere between ten and fourteen years old, who appeared to have been shot.”

“And this one?”

The view switched to another photo, taken from a different angle. In the photo, I could see a pair of boots and the distinct pixelated camouflage pattern of the lower legs of someone wearing an Army Combat Uniform.

Smalls verified the photo. Cox led her through each one, taking nearly fifteen minutes to go through them all. He was going for maximum emotional effect on the board members, most of whom were doctors or staff at Walter Reed. And based on their expressions, which ranged from nausea to horror, it was working.

I knew for sure it was working on me. Because one thing was certain—no matter how off the reservation Colton had gone, no matter how upset he was about Weber getting killed, no matter what the circumstances around the incident, the fact was, that little boy deserved nothing but our protection. And that was the one thing he didn’t get.

Finished with the photos, Cox walked out to the middle of the floor, and said, “Please tell us what you did next, Major Smalls.”

“At that point we didn’t even have verification that the report had come from the accused, so our first goal was, based on the report we’d received, identify who may have been involved. We searched unit records and came up with an initial list of names of people to interview, all of which were still on active duty, with the exception of Sergeant Sherman. At that time, since Sergeant Sherman was in an inactive reserve status, we contacted the Federal Bureau of Investigation and enlisted their assistance with the investigation.”

The questioning went on, in detail, for hours. Who did she talk to next? What evidence did she collect? And the thing was, the whole investigation came down to two things. My report. Colton’s and Hick’s testimony. And that was ... it.

Finally Captain Cox stepped back. “Those are all the questions I have for the witness, your honor.”

Elmore was on his feet in a second. “Major Smalls. Can you please tell me what the coroner’s report said about the cause of death?”

Smalls looked confused, and she shook her head. “There was no coroner’s report.”

Elmore paused. Then he said, “Well ... what about the death certificate?”

“We ... have no death certificate.”

“I see,” Elmore said slowly. “I’m going to ask you another related question then, Major, and I hope you can answer this one. Did we at least send a team to Afghanistan? Did anyone examine any physical evidence at all in this case?”

Captain Cox stood up and said, “Your honor, accused counsel is…”

Martinez interrupted Cox. “Asking appropriate questions.” He waved a hand at Elmore. “Please answer the question, Major Smalls.”

Smalls looked uncomfortable and said, “We attempted to send a team, but the Afghan government denied the request to exhume the body.”

“I see,” Elmore said. “Well ... let me ask you one final question. Is there any physical evidence, of any kind, that a crime actually took place?”

“The photos…”

“Are not physical evidence. Have you employed any experts to determine if the photos were photoshopped?”

“No. We have not.”

“Do you have any reason to believe the photos are real?”

“The accused, in several interviews, described the circumstances of the killing and verified the report was his.”

“Yes,” Elmore said. “Let’s get to that now, shall we? On what date did you first interview the accused?”

“December 10, 2012.”

“I see. And was his attorney present?”

Smalls swallowed.

“Major Smalls, this is not a difficult question. Did the accused have counsel present during that interview?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Sergeant Sherman wasn’t considered a suspect at the time.”

“I’m confused, Major. On January 1, Sergeant Sherman was forcibly uprooted from his civilian life and recalled back into the Army. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Who signed the order for his

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