Supply
& Demand
By
Rocket
Episode
9.3
Part Four
“Prosecutor
Nicholls, you may begin.” The judge beckoned to
Hawkins, indicating that he should take the stand.
“Thank you, your Honour.” Fiona Nicholls
crossed to the witness stand, looking at Hawkins. “Please
state your name for the record.”
“Alfred Wallace Hawkins.” Hawkins no longer
looked confident, as he had done at the beginning of
the trial.
“Where were you employed during 1985 and 1986,
Mr Hawkins?” Nicholls stood in front of him, waiting
as Hawkins thought about the question. “Were you
employed at all?”
“Yes!” Hawkins nodded. “I was working
security at Westpoint Beach Plant.”
“And were you also living near Westpoint?”
Nicholls watched Hawkins nod again. “Please speak
aloud, Mr Hawkins – the reporter can’t record
gestures.”
“Yes, I was living in Westpoint.” Hawkins
frowned, waiting to see what Nicholls would ask next.
At the back of the courtroom, MacGyver frowned too.
Why did Westpoint Beach sound so familiar?
“When did you stop working at Westpoint Beach
Nuclear Processing Plant?” Nicholls glanced across
to Swan, who was watching her with a flat, unfriendly
stare.
“Uh... February.” Hawkins blinked and licked
his lips.
“And did your leaving have anything to do with
the attempted uranium theft in January of that year?”
Nicholls ignored Swan’s glare, concentrating on
Hawkins.
“Objection – Leading question!” Swan
was on his feet, “The prosecution is asking my
client to incriminate himself!” He waited, but
Judge Davis gestured for him to continue. “Mr
Hawkins lived at Westpoint Beach, yes, but there is
no evidence to link him to the attempted theft of uranium.”
“Well?” Judge Davis frowned at Nicholls.
“Your honour, the accused has been suspected of
association with theft and left or been dismissed from
nine separate jobs. He has admitted that he spent his
time in Vietnam passing on stolen property and supplying
restricted items to those willing to pay for them. He
chose to leave Westpoint right after the planned theft
of uranium was discovered. I would like the opportunity
to ask Mr Hawkins why he left Westpoint in such a hurry.”
Nicholls waited as the judge stared first at her, then
at Hawkins, then finally at Swan.
“Overruled. Answer the question, Mr Hawkins.”
The judge turned away from Swan
“I... Uh...” Hawkins faltered, running a
hand over his slicked back hair. “I left because
the reactor almost had a leak. Place wasn’t safe,
to my mind, so I left.”
He
glanced across to Swan, and MacGyver saw the attorney
nod back.
“Was your job secure at the point at which you
left?” Nicholls looked down and pulled a paper
out of her stack.
“Yes.” Hawkins’s eyes slid away from
the prosecutor’s direct gaze.
“So you hadn’t received any warnings for
tardiness, failure to carry out your duties in a satisfactory
manner or loss of stock?” Nicholls looked pleased,
watching Hawkins flush and stammer.
“Well, that’s... You don’t have...
I CHOSE TO LEAVE, I WASN’T FIRED!” Hawkins
was bright red and sweating, and stared at Swan, panic-stricken.
Swan got to his feet.
“I request a short recess to allow my client to
regain his composure, your Honour. This trial is proving
very difficult for him. After all, he is not a well
man.” He folded his hands, waiting for the judge
to decide. Hawkins, as if on cue, buried his head in
his hands and started sobbing.
“Denied.” Judge Davis folded his arms and
glowered at Swan. “We’re nearly done here.
Your client will just have to manage. Carry on, Mrs
Nicholls.”
“I’d like to move on to your more recent
activities, Mr Hawkins.” Nicholls tucked her hair
behind her ear and faced the stand. “You moved
to Los Angeles after you left Westpoint, and you’ve
lived here ever since, yes?”
“Yes.” Hawkins sat back in his chair.
“And you’ve been employed all that time?”
Nicholls drew out another sheet of paper, laying it
on the table in front of her.
“Mostly.” Hawkins eyed the paper with suspicion.
“What’s that?”
“I’ll come to that in a minute. What is
your most recent employment, Mr Hawkins?”
Nicholls
moved the paper slightly, lining it up with the table
edge.
“Western Precision Electricals. I work deliveries.”
Hawkins looked uncomfortable.
“Work? Or worked?” Nicholls smiled as Hawkins
flushed red. “Isn’t it right that you’ve
been dismissed from Western, Mr Hawkins?” She
nodded as he mumbled assent. “Why were you dismissed?”
“Objection - relevance!” Swan jumped up,
glaring at Nicholls. “My client’s employment
status is of no relevance to this case!”
“Overruled!” Now the judge was annoyed.
“I will not have you bouncing up and down every
time anyone has to answer a question!” He glared
at Swan, who closed his mouth and sat down, shooting
a venomous glare at Nicholls. Nicholls ignored him and
motioned to Hawkins to answer.
“They said I stole stuff.” Hawkins looked
sullen. “But they ain’t got no proof.”
“Nevertheless, you were dismissed for gross misconduct.”
Nicholls held up the paper, reading the reason for dismissal
out loud. She glanced at Hawkins but didn’t wait
for him to answer. “And there were no other employees
who could have perpetrated the theft, were there?”
She watched Hawkins hesitate. “I remind you that
you are under oath...”
“There could have been other people there. I don’t
know who was in, do I? It’s a big place!”
Hawkins frowned, sounding angry. “They got it
in for me, they ain’t got no proof!”
“So how did you come to have several large boxes
of Western Precision Electricals products in your apartment
hallway, Mr Hawkins?” Nicholls put down the paper
and folded her arms.
“I…” Hawkins opened his mouth, but
no words came out.
“No further questions.” Nicholls collected
her papers, smiled at the jury and returned to her seat.
“Wow, he’s missed his calling alright –
he should have been on the stage!” MacGyver turned
to Cooper, hiding his whisper under the murmur of discontent
in the courtroom.
“Unbelievable. Cooper leaned back in his seat
and folded his arms. “There’s nothing wrong
with him that a good kicking wouldn’t cure. Look
at him! Second rate theatrics is all that is. PTSD...”
He shook his head in disgust.
“Pathetic Thief Scumbag Disorder, maybe?”
MacGyver watched Cooper grin.
“Yeah, that’s more like it!” Cooper
laughed quietly, shooting MacGyver a grateful glance.
* * * *
Swan
stood and walked over to the witness stand.
“Are you OK, Mr Hawkins? Do you need a break?”
His voice was quiet, solicitous. “I know this
is difficult for a man who’s suffered as you
have.”
“I’m OK.” Hawkins looked unsure,
as though he might have given Swan the wrong answer,
but Swan just nodded.
“Very well. You’re a veteran, aren’t
you?” Swan nodded as Hawkins agreed. “You
served your country with distinction. You were in
Vietnam, and you continued to serve after you returned,
at a supply base here in California, right?”
“Barstow.” Hawkins nodded, confidence
creeping back into his tone.
“And you’ve lived and worked all around
California, haven’t you? You’ve gone
where the work is, to keep yourself fed and clothed,
working whatever job you can get, yes?”
“That’s right. I never claimed a cent
in Social Security.” Hawkins straightened
in his chair, looking pleased with himself.
“But you’ve sometimes had trouble keeping
a job, haven’t you?” Swan stared hard
at Hawkins, who’d begun to look confused.
Then Hawkins’s face cleared.
“Uh, yeah. That’s right.” He nodded.
“Because you haven’t always been well,
have you? Your service to this country has left
its mark on you and you’ve suffered from...?”
Swan raised his eyebrows.
“P.T.S.D.” Hawkins said slowly, making
sure he got the letters in the right order.
“And what effects does your PTSD have on you?”
Swan took a step back, giving the jury an uninterrupted
view of Hawkins. Hawkins turned his head, keeping
eye contact with Swan.
“I sometimes forget stuff. I remember terrible
things that happened when I was in Vietnam and it
makes me lose where I am and what I’m doing.
I get scared. I go with people who are tough and
make me feel safe. I do what they say. Sometimes
I do things I shouldn’t do.” Hawkins’s
words were stilted, sounding to MacGyver as though
he was reading from a list. He turned to say as
much to Cooper, but the words died on his lips.
“Cooper?” He ignored the stern woman’s
scowl, touching Cooper’s shoulder to try and
attract his attention. “Cooper? You OK, man?”
He watched Cooper shake his head, felt the man trembling
through his jacket. “You need to leave?”
He watched Cooper take a ragged breath and nod.
Squeezing past his grumpy neighbour and apologising
to the people they squeezed past, MacGyver steered
Cooper to the back door of the courtroom and out
into the hall. He sat him down in a chair and fetched
him some water from the cooler.
“Sorry, Mac.” Cooper took the water
with a shaking hand. “He’s just... He’s
making a mockery of what I’ve been through
for the past twenty years, and...” He took
a sip of water. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” MacGyver sat beside him
and slouched down in his seat. “Hawkins and
Swan were beginning to grind my gears too.”
“What got you going, anyway?” Cooper
set the water down, looking steadier. “You
jumped like you’d been shot back there.”
“Yeah...” MacGyver stuffed his hands
in his jacket pockets. “I think I may have
crossed paths with Hawkins a few years back, over
the Westpoint Beach thing.” He shivered. “When
I think if what nearly happened there, I could just…”
He made a fist and shook it in the air.
“Now you’re getting it.” Cooper
picked up his glass and drained it. “I think
I’m OK to go back in now.”
“Sure.” MacGyver still looked angry
as he rose and followed Cooper back into the courtroom.
Nicholls and Swan summed up their cases, finishing
by asking the jury to return a just verdict. To
MacGyver, it sounded as though Nicholls had made
a far stringer case and that the jury should have
no difficulty in returning a verdict of guilty on
all counts. For a man whose case seemed so weak,
Swan looked confident. Too confident, MacGyver thought.
The jury retired to deliberate and Swan returned
to sit with his client. MacGyver watched Hawkins
try to talk to Swan, but Swan waved him off and
didn’t reply.
MacGyver’s
eyes narrowed as he thought. From what he remembered
of doing jury service and from attending other court
cases, attorneys were usually keen to talk to the
people they represented, advising, reassuring or
commiserating, but never ignoring them. Hawkins
made a last attempt to talk to Swan, then sat back.
He looked frightened, MacGyver thought.
MacGyver pulled at his tie again, wishing he hadn’t
worn it. The autumn sun streamed in through the
windows and MacGyver found himself drifting into
a doze in the warm room.
MacGyver came to with a start as the jury filed
back in. He watched them carefully, remembering
from ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ that a
jury never looks at a defendant they’ve convicted.
The last juror sat down without making eye contact,
and the judge spoke.
“Have you reached a decision?” he waited
for the jury foreman to stand up.
“Yes, your honour.” The foreman swallowed,
glanced at Hawkins and then away again. “To
the charge of receiving stolen goods: Guilty. To
the charge of involvement in the theft of radioactive
materials: not guilty. To the charge of possessing
apparatus capable of disseminating a biological
agent, toxin or vector, under the Biological Weapons
Anti-Terrorism Act of 1989: Guilty.” The foreman’s
gaze slid across to Swan, who sniffed and looked
away.
“Thank you.” The judge nodded to the
jury foreman and then his gaze swept the room.
“This court finds Alfred Wallace Hawkins guilty
of crimes which threaten the safety and security
of United States citizens.” He leaned forward
and stared at Hawkins. “While I do not believe
you possess the capability to build a delivery system
for such a weapon yourself, it is clear that you
planned to pass this equipment on to person or persons
capable of doing so.” The judge took off his
glasses and placed them upside down on the desk.
“You are hereby sentenced to fifteen years
imprisonment, with no opportunity for parole.”
He watched as Hawkins rose unsteadily to his feet.
“You will be taken from here to a place of
holding, and from there to California State Prison.”
He looked around the room, making eye contact with
the jury, Hawkins, Nicholls and Swan. “Ladies
and gentlemen, I would like to thank you for your
service at this trial. I appreciate your attention,
your dedication and your hard work. You will recall
that I told you that you were not to discuss this
case with anyone. That prohibition no longer applies.
There is no law that requires you to discuss this
case, nor is there any law that prohibits you from
doing so. This is left to your own discretion. Again,
thank you, and you are now excused.” Judge
Davis nodded to the jury and stood, walked through
the courtroom without looking at Hawkins and let
the door swing shut behind him.
“Are you OK?” MacGyver turned to Cooper
as the judge left the room.
“Yeah. I guess that was about the best we
could expect. I really thought they’d got
him for the uranium theft though, that would have
seen them lock him up and throw away the key!”
Cooper shrugged. “Good enough for me. I hope
California State is plenty rough, and I wish him
a long and terrible stay there.” He picked
up his jacket, draping it over his arm. “If
we’re really lucky, he’ll have a 300
pound cellmate called ‘Bubba’ who thinks
he’s just divine, darling!” Cooper fluttered
his eyelashes and MacGyver grinned.
“You never know!” MacGyver pulled his
tie off and stuffed it in his pocket.” Come
on, let’s get out of here!”
They walked down the courthouse steps, squinting
in the sunlight. The square was quiet, just a few
people walking home or out for the evening. A prison
van slowed in front of the courthouse and turned
down the alley alongside it.
“I see Hawkins’s limousine has arrived!”
Cooper’s grin was fierce. “Rot in hell,
you bastard!”
“Right…” MacGyver gazed around
the square, looking for a familiar face. Shrugging,
he dismissed the idea, telling himself that he was
just paranoid, that he wasn’t going to see
the man from the phone booth because he was, after
all, only a guy making a call. He checked for traffic,
then he and Cooper crossed the street. At the alley
behind the courthouse, Cooper paused.
“I want to see that he’s really gone,
OK?” Cooper continued walking, and MacGyver
followed him.
A car screamed around the corner, running the red
light and slewing to a halt at the end of the alley.
The barrel of a machine gun poked out of the back
window of the car, sending a hail of bullets towards
the prison van. Cooper and MacGyver made an instinctive
dive for the people standing by the van, MacGyver
tackling the prison guards and Cooper shoving Hawkins
to the ground. From the safety of a shop doorway,
MacGyver heard bullets ricochet and whine, and a
man screamed. The car spun its tyres and pulled
away. He peered around the door, just in time to
see a familiar face behind the wheel of the car.
“That’s him!” he lunged forward
as if to chase the car, but Cooper pulled him back.
“Are you nuts?! You’re gonna chase a
drive-by with a machine gun? On foot?” he
shook his head. “I didn’t get the license
plate, did you?”
“No.” MacGyver frowned, then he spun
round as another scream and a groan echoed around
the alley. He got to his feet, helping one of the
prison guards up. The guard glanced down at Hawkins,
lying on the floor and covered in blood.
“I’ll call 911 – he looks bad!”
He ducked into the van and rummaged in the glove
box for his cellphone, leaving MacGyver and Cooper
to go to Hawkins. MacGyver knelt down, seeing blood
pulse from a wound in Hawkins’s thigh. The
second guard was leaning hard on the wound, but
blood welled up from around her gloved hands.
“They hit the artery.” She leaned harder
and Hawkins screamed again.
“OK, that’s bad.” MacGyver looked
around, spotting something sticking out of a dumpster.
“Cooper, go get me that umbrella, would you?”
He reached out a hand, pulling his tie out of his
pocket with the other. “Thanks.” He
tucked the tie under Hawkins’s leg and knotted
it. “OK, Cooper, I need you to pull me some
spokes off that thing.”
“What?!” Cooper shook his head in confusion,
but yanked off a handful of battered spokes and
passed them across. “Here.”
“Thanks.” MacGyver twisted the spokes
under the knotted tie and twisted it round and round.
The makeshift tourniquet tightened and Cooper saw
the blood slow. In the distance he heard the wail
of the approaching ambulance’s sirens.
“Good job!” The prison guard grinned
at MacGyver. Below them, Hawkins groaned again and
passed out.
* * * *
The paramedics arrived, loaded Hawkins into the ambulance
and left, sirens wailing.
“Thanks. You may just have saved that guy’s
life.” The prison guard got to her feet, wiping
at the blood on her shirt and then giving up. She
nodded to MacGyver and Cooper, got into her van and
backed out of the alley.
I can’t believe I just helped to save that scumbag!”
Cooper watched the prison van drive away, shoving
his hands into his pockets and shaking his head.
“Yeah, well.” MacGyver stood up, dusting
alley dirt off his trousers. “Think of it as
saving him for Bubba!”
“Hah! Yes, we did, didn’t we!” Cooper
grinned. “I think I’m OK with that!”
He turned back to look at MacGyver. “And trust
you to find a way to get rid of that tie!” He
smiled again, expecting MacGyver to grin back. But
MacGyver was frowning, staring down the alley. “What
is it, Mac?”
“That was the guy.” He took a few steps
up the alley and then stopped. “The driver.
He was the phone call guy…” He took the
rolled-up tape out of his pocket and looked at the
chalk fingerprints. “Who was Hawkins mixed up
with, to make him worth killing?”
“No clue.” Cooper shrugged. “But
since he’s not dead, I guess someone can go
ask him.”
“Yeah…” MacGyver turned to follow
Cooper, his face serious. “Providing no-one
else gets to him first...”
To be continued
in 'After The Wall', airing in January....
