was simply unworkable.
He stopped two paces from the door. Conflict of interest was an American concept — would it apply to the Greek way of looking at things? And would Arkady care one way or the other?
Well, he’d do the investigation. Find out what was behind it all, see if he could nip it in the bud. He skipped back to the first page and read the sailor’s name again, fixing it in his mind.
TEN
Tombstone stared at the young sailor popped tall in front of his desk. The youngster’s uniform was immaculate, freshly pressed and starched. The rank insignia and rating were meticulously positioned, the Dixie cup hat placed squarely on his head, and the haircut high and tight. Airman Smith stared at a point somewhere over Tombstone’s head, unblinking and seemingly frozen at attention.
“At ease,” Tombstone ordered. Smith snapped immediately into the correct position, no more relaxed that he had been at attention.
“You’re aware of why I asked to see you,” Tombstone said.
“Sir, yes, sir. The admiral is assigned as the investigating officer in this case and will make a recommendation to the convening authority as to whether court-martial charges should be preferred against me.” The voice shook slightly but was clear and level.
“That’s correct. They’ve explained your rights to you?” Tombstone asked, glancing through the file to make sure that the correct form, signed and dated by Smith, was in it.
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“And you know you don’t have to talk to me unless you want to?”
“Sir, yes—”
“One sir per sentence will do, Airman Smith.”
“Sir — yes. I understand my rights.”
“And having those right in mind, do you wish to speak to me now?”
At this, Airman Smith seemed to relax infinitesimally. “Yes, sir, I do.”
Tombstone leaned back in his chair. From what he could tell, the case was relatively open and shut. Airman Smith had been given a direct order to wit: wear the UN beret and sew the patch on his uniform. Said Airman Smith had refused to do so, violating Article 92 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, or UCMJ. There was a lot more verbiage accompanying the charges, phrases having to do with the lawfulness of the order, the fact that a commissioned officer was involved — all sorts of legalese.
Disobeying direct orders was an offense that didn’t allow much leeway. Unless Smith could prove that the order was unlawful, that he didn’t understand it, or that he had no way to obey it, it looked like he was screwed.
And over what? A hat and a piece of cloth. There was no doubt that Smith understood the order and he was physically capable of placing it on his head. Maybe an argument about how you get a patch sewed on when you’re ashore in a detachment, but Tombstone suspected Smith could have worked that out, too.
That left only the legality of the order in question, and Tombstone didn’t have much doubt about that issue either. If the order to participate in a UN peacekeeping force was illegal or unlawful, then a hell of a lot more people than Smith were in deep shit.
“So explain this to me, son. Tell me why you won’t wear the beret.”
Smith took a deep breath. “Sir, my lawyer told me not to talk to you, but I figured if anyone would understand it would be you. I know who you are, Admiral, and what you’ve done. Everybody does.” Smith laughed nervously, his words tumbling over each other. “I’d probably ask you for an autograph if it weren’t for… for all this.”
“Go on,” Tombstone said.
Smith began outlining his initial excitement about being part of the team, then the reality of working side by side with the other nations on the flight line. Some of his complaints were simply the disgruntled opinions of a very junior sailor who didn’t have the big picture. But when he got to the details of maintenance on his Tomcat, Tombstone paid close attention.
“It wasn’t safe, sir. Not what they wanted me to do. Chief, he would never have let me do it that way.”
“And you told the chief?”
Smith nodded. “But the Greek lieutenant said we had to do it anyway. That’s when I knew it wasn’t right, what they wanted us to do. Being under his command. Because what he wanted us to do could have gotten a couple of guys killed in my bird, and that’s not going to happen.”
“Maybe he knew something you didn’t know about it,” Tombstone suggested.
Smith shook his head, now more animated than he’d been since he first entered the room. “No disrespect, sir, but no. You wrap the cotter pin like that and don’t safety wire it, it’s too dangerous. What if it comes loose in flight?”
“What if this lieutenant had been an American officer?” Tombstone asked. “Don’t tell me that you’ve never had one of our officers tell you to do something that was stupid?”
“Sure, that happens,” Smith said. “But then you’ve got a chain of command. I tell the chief, we go to the division officer, the maintenance officer, all the way up if we have to.”
“And what if your skipper still told you to do it?”
Smith was silent for a moment. “It would depend, sir. I’d probably do it because the skipper knows more about the Tomcat than I do. So does the maintenance officer. But this guy, he didn’t. And there was no one else to ask.” He dropped his gaze from the distant spot on the wall he’d been staring at. “We shouldn’t be trusting them with safety of flight, sir. Not unless the guy making the decisions knows what he’s talking about. And they don’t.”
“Why do you say that?” Tombstone asked. From what he’d seen of the Greek forces, they operated pretty much like the American ones did, albeit with a few cultural differences.
Silence again, then Smith said, “They shot one of their pilots when he screwed — excuse me, Admiral — when he messed something up. We don’t do things like that. So what would they do to me if something happened to my bird?”
Smith nodded. “Everybody knows about it.”
“He flew a mission a few days ago, the same day that helo went down. When he got back, he had to go see the general. Nobody’s seen him since then. His wife, they said, she showed up at the squadron looking for him, all crying and everything. They took her to see the general too. She hasn’t been back.”
“And you think they shot him… and maybe his wife as well?”
Smith nodded. “The Greek guys that speak English, they say it’s not the first time, either.”
After Tombstone had heard Smith’s entire collection of rumors, he called the Judge Advocate General officer in and sent Smith out to the reception area. Tombstone briefed the lawyer, asking him to take a complete statement from Smith. “And do it yourself,” Tombstone said. “I want this close held until I can find out what’s going on. Don’t grill the kid, just ask him enough questions to keep him talking and to get it all. Then come see me.” He
