Tangled Up in Blue

Closing Argument

Blue

Hellfire's closing argument is full of all the fire and brimstone he can muster. 

He's certainly got the panel's full attention.

He starts out in a calm, level voice, talking about how I'd enlisted in the Army even though, as the son of a rich and powerful man, I had many other options. 

Even though, as a talented musician, I could have immediately pursued my calling instead of putting my life on the line for my country.

"But Blue wanted to serve," Holmlund points out. "He put his country before his own interests. He had an overwhelming desire to be part of something bigger than himself, to be the best soldier he could be. And all for the sake of the United States of America."

I hear something behind me—maybe a cough, maybe a muttered expletive. But I do not turn around.

"He also wanted to help people, even those in the land of the enemy," my attorney continues. "He put in extra time trying to do good for the children caught up in war through no fault of their own. He tried to help a young, powerless girl facing an awful fate."

Then my lawyer's voice gets louder, harsher, and he sounds outraged. 

"But now the powers that be want to punish this exemplary young man for an attack that he could never have foreseen. There was no immediate enemy activity in the area. There was no indication that such an attack was even a possibility.

"This selfless young soldier wanted to help a woman who'd devoted her life to caring for the most oppressed, to those who had no means of fighting for themselves. And when she came to him, Blue Daniels did what he could."

Holmlund goes on and on, talking about all the ways the government did not prove its case. 

He says that I could never have known the guys would come after me that day.

He admits up front that I had not initially been honest about what happened. 

He says that's because I was in shock and devastated over the attack and its consequences. 

He talks about me being young and inexperienced and idealistic.

"But then, when he'd had time to process everything," Holmlund adds, "even though he could have gotten away with it for the rest of his life, Specialist Daniels came forward and told the truth. He came forward, and he did the right thing."

I almost don't recognize myself in the upstanding citizen he's describing. 

I almost want to jump to my feet and shout that it's all a lie. 

It's not a lie, though, not exactly. Everything pretty much did happen the way Holmlund described it. 

But it still feels wrong. 

Because I should have known better than to head off the base on a bike on some fucking one-man rescue mission. 

I should have thought more about what the consequences would be if something went wrong in the village.

But I just thought, like an arrogant, dumbass kid, that nothing bad would happen to me. 

I certainly knew better than to lie about it afterward. 

It's true I was in shock, but I lied because I could not bring myself to admit what I had done. That was pure cowardice.

When Holmlund finally finishes his closing, no one makes a sound for a few seconds. 

I can't really tell if that's a good sign or a bad sign. 

But I know no one could have defended me better.

That's what I tell Holmlund as we're all sitting in a waiting room down the hall from the courtroom as the panel begins deliberating. 

"You gave me the best possible defense, Dan," I say, shaking his hand. "And I appreciate it."

He smiles, looking pleased at my words, but worried. 

"Thank you for that, Blue," he says. "I just hope it was enough." 

He sighs and looks from me to Keegan, who is sitting next to me. 

"I feel pretty good about the Misbehavior Before the Enemy charge. I managed to poke a lot of holes in that one. But the False Statements charge..." 

He shakes his head. "I don't know, Blue. I just don't know on that."

"What do you mean?" Keegan asks sharply, stiffening. "You explained to them why Blue did that. I mean, they have to believe what you said. They just have to. It's the truth. And Blue made it right by turning himself in. That's got to count for something." 

Her voice is hoarse; she sounds exhausted and afraid. I put my arm around her and kiss the side of her head. 

"It's okay," I whisper. "Whatever happens, it's going to be okay." 

I'm thinking about the letter I gave to Holmlund this morning. The look he gives me tells me he's thinking about it, too.

The closing finished up before noon, and it's now about one thirty. 

It's possible there'll be a verdict by tonight. 

It's possible the letter will be in Keegan's hands by tonight. And I am praying she will do what I asked her to do.

She leans against me, her eyes closed.

Mama's sitting across the table from me, and she also looks exhausted and afraid. 

So many times, I've been disgusted with myself for inflicting all this pain on the people I love.

I'm almost numb now. 

I reach out with my free hand and close it over my mother's. 

"I'm so sorry about all this, Mama."

She shakes her head, her lips tightening. 

"Don't do that, Blue." 

She squeezes my hand and says to me what I just said to Keegan. "It's going to be okay, son."

Keegan's grandma is here, too, glaring at her phone, clearly pissed about something. 

It might very well be me. God knows, she has good reason, many good reasons, to be mad at me.

She's got a death grip on a water bottle that she tips to her lips every few minutes. I've noticed she's coughing a lot.

Venla's gone to the hotel. Holmlund told me she was an emotional wreck after her testimony, and he sent her back. 

If I don't leave the courtroom as a free man tonight, I'll likely never see her again.

Bryson had to be back on campus for a six o'clock class, so he's gone, too. 

I'm happy about that, to tell the truth. It would be even harder sitting in this room with him staring across the table at me.

We stay in the room, waiting, as the hours tick by. 

We don't talk much. There's nothing left to say. 

I hold on to Keegan like a drowning man, and Holmlund paces, checks his phone, paces some more. 

We're all listening intently for the sound of footsteps. We're all watching for the door to our waiting room to open.

And just after five, a uniformed bailiff walks into the room and announces, "They've reached a verdict."