Fic: Sparkling Stars XIII: Court-Martial (6/7)
Title: Sparkling Stars XIII: Court-Martial (6/7)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: El Plummer, John 'Max' Maxwell, Erland Dobbs, Christy/Virgil, Quinton McHale, Jack Kennedy, Mike Bartowski, Lester Gruber, Douglas Gray, Arlen Spencer, Harrison Mencken
Fandom: McHale's Navy
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama, Historical, Hurt/Comfort
Rating (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: The Garcia court-martial begins. Will Virgil and his fellow slaves finally get justice?
Chapter Summary: The closing arguments are made
Date Of Completion: April 21, 2023
Date Of Posting: April 26, 2023
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1885
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found here.
VI
CLOSING ARGUMENTS
"A closing argument has to pack a punch, like the last act in a play."
Lionel P. Atwill
Esquire
Speech Given To
The Boston Libra Society
September 27, 1942
"Okay, we're here to search the barracks," El Plummer said.
The Marines in his squad were confused. "For what, Sarge?" a lanky Oklahoman, Jeb Cotton, asked.
"You guys know about the missing evidence."
"None of us would take it!" Stocky Paul Jones was surprised and miffed.
"Hey, you know the circumstances." El shrugged. "Max and I have a job to do."
For now, Max was still a private, but his promotion to corporal was in the works. The four other privates grumbled but pulled out the duffel bags and stood at attention by their bunks. El and Max got to work.
The duffels were thoroughly searched. While Max continued to rummage, El checked their uniforms hanging in a closet: a second day uniform and each man's dress blues. El looked at the day uniforms carefully. He paused at the uniform on Hanger 4.
"Who's Number 4?"
"I am, Sarge," said Erland Dobbs. Dobbs was a quiet, earnest young private with a square face and husky build.
El took the button he had found in the storage room out of his shirt pocket and held it against Dobbs's shirt. It was a perfect match.
"Nothing, Sarge," said Max after he finished with the duffel bags
There was a single dresser against one wall, and El searched the drawers. In the bottom drawer, stuffed way in the back, was a rolled-up set if papers. He pulled them out and unrolled them.
"Hmm, the Church of the Holy Shepherd newsletter. Anyone care to claim ownership?"
The men were silent. Max took the newsletter and checked the mailing label. The name was blacked out but part of the name had been missed.
"This is yours, Dobbs "
Dobbs's eyes flickered. "Yes."
"Come with us, Dobbs," said El.
El, Max and Dobbs left the barracks. The three men left behind all looked at each other
& & & & & &
As the Court ordered the afternoon break, Christy jumped to his feet and went after Virgil. He was not going to leave him alone this time.
The air was humid as he emerged from the Quonset hut. He looked toward the dock, but it was empty. He directed his gaze next to their favorite spot on the bluff, but that was too exposed.
Wait a minute! He snapped his fingers. He knew where Virgil was and headed that way.
There was a pretty little secluded spot close to the water with a stone bench and sheltered partially by trees. Virgil was sitting facing the water. Christy approached carefully. "Virgil..."
"I should have known better." Virgil's voice was bitter. A broken slave might not get angry, but apparently he could still feel bitterness. "I thought I was presenting myself as a sailor, but all they saw was a slave."
"That's not everybody."
"And I agree an am grateful, but the ones in charge think nothing of humiliating me." His voice was close to breaking. He used his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. Once again the FH'er's tendency to cry was in full display, though Christy could hardly blame him. He felt teary-eyed himself, but admittedly they were tears of rage.
Christy sat down on the bench, putting a hand on Virgil's shoulder. He could feel the knotted tension in his lover's muscles.
"No one who is worth anything thinks that was anything but a shameful spectacle."
"It was shameful, all right."
"By Commodore Gray, not you." Christy gently squeezed Virgil's shoulder.
"You know, they say you can't humiliate a slave."
"Yeah, well, 'they' know nothing."
Virgil did not respond.
"Virg?" McHale's voice was gentle, and both men turned to see him standing at the edge of the clearing, with Jack Kennedy and Mike Bartowski next to him. As Christy and Virgil began to rise, McHale waved to them to remain seated. "We want to tell you something."
Jack stepped forward. "Virgil, all of us are infuriated at what happened. It was a disgrace to the United States Navy."
"Thank you, Mr. Kennedy."
"You gave great testimony. That kid Spencer is a clever lawyer," Mike said.
"The best," agreed Jack.
"No matter how biased that commodore is, he has to rule due to the facts," said Mike.
"I wouldn't bet on it," Jack said with a sigh. "But if the worst happens, you still have just about everyone on this base behind you."
Virgil smiled shakily but he seemed calmer. Christy patted his arm and looked gratefully st the three skippers.
"Thank you, sirs," said Virgil.
Jack and Mike smiled and left, allowing the crew of the PT-73 to come forward. Gruber grasped Virgil's arms.
"You know we're behind you, right?"
"I do, but Lester..."
Gruber shook his head. "No buts. They were despicable, but people know you, and they see through the Commodore and his bigotry." As Virgil began to look down, Gruber grasped his chin and lifted it up. "Believe in us, Virg "
Virgil's eyes were wet and he nodded. Gruber pulled him into a hug and the rest of the crew patted him gently.
Christy was grateful for Gruber's tact. He always thought of him and Virgil as an odd match, but Virgil always listened to the con artist, while well aware of his larcenous heart.
"Time to get back, unless you'd rather not, Virgil," said McHale.
Virgil squared his shoulders. "Not, I'll see this through."
Pride was reflected in his crewmates' eyes. As they headed for the courthouse, Virgil slid his hand into Christy's. The blond smiled and squeezed his hand.
& & & & & &
"Okay, Dobbs, let's get down to brass tacks "
El and Max had brought Private Dobbs to the hut that housed the brig. They were in a small interrogation room, a cheerless, dingy little space that depressed both prisoners and guards. El hated the room but it was remarkably effective in extracting the truth from prisoners.
"You have a missing button, and the one I found in the storage room is a perfect match."
"Sarge, every guy has buttons like that."
"Yeah, but you're the only one missing a button right now."
El knew it was 'weak sauce' but it was a start. "And that Church of the Holy Shepherd literature? You admit to owning it."
"Yes, Sarge "
El put one foot on a chair and leaned forward. "Dobbs, you know that makes you a prime suspect as to who stole the photographic evidence in our current trial."
"Maybe, Sarge."
El noticed that Dobbs didn't deny it. "Did you take the films and stills on your own, or was it in collusion with someone else?"
Dobbs remained silent. Max decided to take a crack at him.
"So, Dobbs, why did you steal the evidence? Did you come up with it yourself or did someone ask you to do it? You know, one of the other slave-haters on the base?"
Dobbs said nothing. El shook his head.
"We know there are slave-haters here on Taratupa. Some don't bother to hide it and some do. You hid it up 'til now."
El demanded, "Where did you hide the evidence? Or did you destroy it?"
Dobbs remained quiet, ignoring the questions.
El shook his head again. "Confess, Dobbs. It'll go easier on you."
"With all due respect, Sarge, you don't really have anything on me."
El knew he was right but he wasn't about to acknowledge that. "Maybe some time spent cooling your heels will help you change your mind." He could only hold Dobbs 24 hours and the man knew it, but let him get a taste of jail. Max did the honors, escorting Erland Dobbs to a cell.
Max found his sergeant outside. "Whew, I was glad to get out of that room, Sarge."
"Depressing, ain't it?"
"The worst." The two men started up the bluff. "Wonder how the trial's goin'?"
"I'd like to know." El checked his watch. "They should be getting ready to wrap up for the day."
"Between you and me, I hope they nail that Garcia bastard. If ever there was a smug prick, it's him."
"Can't argue with that assessment."
They reached the top of the bluff and watched the activity in the harbor. El asked, "Got a cigarette?"
"Sure, Sarge. Chesterfield okay?"
"Fine."
"They're getting a shipment of fresh ones at the PX tomorrow. Your beloved Lucky Strikes should be in it."
El smiled. "Hey, I look forward to that." He took the cigarette Max offered. Once lit, he took a long drag. "He's guilty as hell."
"Absolutely," Max agreed.
"But he's right. The evidence is flimsy."
"Damned right." Max lit his own cigarette. "If he's being cagey, I don't think it's natural. He's in cahoots with someone."
"You're right, but who?"
"Who's the open slave-haters around here? Maybe we can lean on them."
"Maybe so." El approved.
"One of the nurses doesn't hide the fact. Her name's Hanover. First name starts with an 'M'."
"We'll talk to her."
"She's probably at the courthouse."
"We'll talk to her tonight."
& & & & & &
Douglas Gray said, "Present your closing argument."
Arlen rose. "Honored Justices, the evidence presented proves that Dr. Edward Garcia tortured Gunner's Virgil Mate Edwards. Eyewitnesses have testified that Garcia performed these acts of torture. Don't be fooled by his ludicrous explanations. He is guilty of the crimes for which he has been charged, out of hate." Arlen came out from behind the table. "Hatred of slaves. Little things like forbidding the staff to supply slave patients with pajamas and robes show his bias. He wanted to hurt a slave, and he chose Virgil Edwards "
Christy squeezed Virgil's hand. Virgil smiled slightly.
"So what we have here is a man bent on injuring and torturing slaves, violating his Hippocratic oath. He has also violated his oath in harming a sailor of the United States Navy. I ask you to remember that this case is not just about slaves, but sailors fighting a war to defend our country."
Several members of the audience felt like clapping, but knew that would be quickly quashed.
Arlen sat down and Mencken rose for the defense. "Honored Justices, my argument is simple. There is no evidence convicting my client of the charges leveled against him." He came out from behind the table. "Eyewitness testimony? From a crew of dubious reputation." McHale and his crew glared at the defense lawyer. "The slave didn't see who was supposedly torturing him. The nurse who testified is extremely close friends with the slave's skipper." Mencken shook his head. "Whether a 'Special Master's or 'Science Fiction Buddy', it's all shaky." Mencken stopped directly in front of the bench. "Dr. Garcia is a respected physician who has an exemplary record of service. Surely you wouldn't want to mar the record of such a man over a slave case." Mencken bowed slightly. "Thank you, Your Honors."
The judges conferred. "Court is dismissed for today. Reconvene tomorrow at 0:900 for the verdict."
Christy and Virgil looked at each other with...hope? Fear? Desperation?
Time would tell.
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