The Shark Mutiny

know the answer.”

“Sustained. Strike that last question from the record.”

But Al Surprenant smiled the quiet smile of a man who had said precisely what he wanted to say. And he rephrased it, good-naturedly…“Commander, would it suprise you to know that a lot of your crew did not agree in any way with your decision to let the man die?”

“OBJECTION! Commander Reid did not decide to let the man die. He simply followed the orders of the flag. Counsel continues to harass the witness.”

“Sustained. Strike the question.”

“Very well,” replied Al Surprenant. “In the light of everything, let me ask you this: Thirty-six hours previously, do you recall refusing to go inshore for a few extra miles, thus saving the battery of the ASDV when the navigator had informed you there was plenty of water depth.”

“No. I do not recall that.”

“Would you feel happier if I read it directly to you from the ship’s log?”

“OBJECTION. Counsel is treating the witness as if he were on trial, attempting to humiliate him before the court, and now he wants to produce evidence against him we have not even seen.”

“Sustained. But leave the record.” Boomer Dunning was a picture of calmness in increasingly stormy waters.

“Commander Reid,” continued the defense counsel, “would you say you were a man who followed orders to the letter, allowing no leeway, and no room for flexibility.”

“No I would not. I’m as flexible as the next man. But not when it comes to the safety of my ship.”

“Would you say you were as flexible as, say, Admiral Pierre de Villeneuve?”

Locker Jones shook his head, and held his hands apart in mock outrage. Captain Dunning stared at the former CO, awaiting an answer. And when it came, there was a frisson of unease in the room.

“Damn you, Headley,” he hissed, almost under his breath.

And now Lieutenant Commander Surprenant was on him. “Damn who, sir? Damn who? I did not quite catch that.”

Commander Reid’s face was beginning to redden, and he was starting to look angry. He made no reply.

And again Al Surprenant came in. “I asked if you were as flexible as Admiral de Villeneuve. Please answer me. I know you are well acquainted with each other.”

Locker Jones had never even heard of the French Admiral, or if he had, he’d clean forgotten it. But it was hard to object because he could not tell if there was venom behind the innocence of the question.

Still Commander Reid said nothing. And the president stepped in, requesting defense counsel to clarify the question for the benefit of the panel and indeed the prosecutor.

“Sir,” said Al Surprenant, “Admiral de Villeneuve was the commander of the French Fleet at the Battle of Trafalgar. He presided over probably the biggest disaster in a sea battle in history. He lost twenty ships, was captured by the British and soon afterward committed suicide. There is a picture of him on the wall of Commander Reid’s cabin, which is unorthodox for a U.S. Navy commanding officer, at best.”

“I see,” said Captain Dunning. “Well, I suppose it may be relevant. Please proceed.”

“Thank you,” said the counselor, and, turning back to Commander Reid, said flatly, “Is it not a fact that you believe you WERE Admiral de Villeneuve in a previous life?”

“Millions of people believe in reincarnation,” replied the Commander.

“And so they may,” said Lieutenant Commander Surprenant. “But that scarcely answers my question, does it? Shall we try again? Do you believe you WERE Admiral de Villeneuve in a previous life?”

“Well, even General Patton believed he had been a great warrior in a previous incarnation.”

“So he may have. But would you be willing to give my question yet another try? Do you believe, Commander Reid, that you actually WERE Admiral de Villeneuve in a previous life? That’s a yes, or a no.”

“Well, we do share some deep French roots.”

Captain Dunning interrupted. “Commander Reid, please answer the question. Yes or no.”

“No,” replied Shark’s former CO. “I do not believe I actually was Admiral de Villeneuve.”

“Thank you, Commander,” said defense counsel. “And now, if I may, I should like to read something to you —‘Another life, another battle, so many mistakes in Bucentaure. I must never repeat them now that I have another chance. June 1980. DKR.’ Do you recognize those words, Commander.”

“Well, vaguely, yes I do.”

“Who wrote them?”

“I did.”

“Where did you write them?”

“In a book, I believe.”

“A book about reincarnation, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“Commander, perhaps you would care to tell the panel whose ship the Bucentaure was?”

“It was Admiral de Villeneuve’s flagship.”

“In your own words, Commander: ‘…so many mistakes in Bucentaure. I must never repeat them now that I have another chance.’ Sir, you believe you are the reincarnation of one of the worst Naval commanders in history, correct?”

Locker Jones had had enough. He leaped to his feet and almost shouted, “OBJECTION! This quotation, written more than twenty-five years ago, was plainly pilfered from the private quarters of the Commanding Officer of USS Shark, unlawfully and disgracefully. It cannot be admissable evidence in any court of law in the free world.”

Captain Dunning nodded. But he said, “This is not a civilian court of law, where lawyers are trained to find loopholes to free guilty people. This is a United States Navy court-martial, and we have no other objective except to find the truth. We are assessing the guilt or innocence of men who are trained to take charge of ships worth four hundred million dollars. Everything is relevant in this regard.”

“But my client is not on trial, sir,” protested Lt. Commander Jones.

“I know he’s not,” replied Boomer. “Objection overruled.”

Al Surprenant continued. “Commander, do you think it might be unnerving for a crew to discover that their leader believed he was a navy disaster area in a previous life?”

“I cannot say what they might feel.”

“But do you think they might quite properly be concerned?”

“OBJECTION. The question’s been asked and answered.”

“Sustained.”

“Commander,” asked the counselor, “are you a spiritualist?”

“In some ways.”

“Does that mean you have merely inherited the spirit of Pierre de Villeneuve, or do you believe you have been in contact with people from…er…the other side, I believe is the phrase?”

“Like many millions of others, I may have.”

“Commander, have you spoken lately with Captain Grigory Lyachin?”

Donald Reid remained silent.

“Someone enlighten me,” interjected Boomer Dunning. “Who’s Grigory Lyachin?”

“He’s that Russian commanding officer who died with his crew in the Kursk submarine, Barents Sea, seven years ago,” said Al Surprenant.

“Commander Reid, would it surprise you to know that certain senior members of your crew heard you talking to him by candlelight in your cabin?”

“DAMN THIS. DAMN YOU ALL! I’M NOT ON TRIAL HERE.” The ex-CO of Shark was standing now, shouting back at the defense lawyer, all semblance of self- control slipping away.

Lieutenant Commander Jones was also on his feet. “Sir, I really must object most strenuously to this line of questioning. Defense is attempting to paint this veteran commander of many years standing as an oddball, which is