Die Trying

arising in the militia in times of public danger. It says no person shall be deprived of life or liberty without due process of law. The Sixth Amendment specifies the accused shall have the right to a speedy public trial in front of a local jury. It says the accused has the right to assistance of counsel.”
    Borken stopped again. Looked around the room. Held up the book.
    “This book tells us what to do,” he said. “So we need a jury. Doesn’t say how many. I figure three men will do. Volunteers?”
    There was a flurry of hands. Borken pointed randomly here and there and three men walked across the pine floor. They stacked their rifles and filed into the jury box. Borken turned in his seat and spoke to them.
    “Gentlemen,” he said. “This is a militia matter and this is a time of public danger. Are we agreed on that?”
    The new jurymen all nodded and Borken turned and looked down from the bench toward Loder, alone at his table.
    “You had counsel?” he said.
    “You offering me a lawyer now?” Loder asked.
    His voice was thick and nasal. Borken shook his head.
    “There are no lawyers here,” he said. “Lawyers are what went wrong with the rest of America. We’re not going to have lawyers here. We don’t want them. The Bill of Rights doesn’t say anything about lawyers. It says counsel. Counsel means advice. That’s what my dictionary says. You had advice? You want any?”
    “You got any?” Loder said.
    Borken nodded and smiled a cold smile.
    “Plead guilty,” he said.
    Loder just shook his head and dropped his eyes.
    “OK,” Borken said. “You’ve had counsel, but you’re pleading not guilty?”
    Loder nodded. Borken looked down at his book again. Turned back to the beginning.
    “The Declaration of Independence,” he said. “It is the right of the people to alter or to abolish the old government and to institute new government in such form as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.”
    He stopped and scanned the crowd.
    “You all understand what that means?” he said. “The old laws are gone. Now we have new laws. New ways of doing things. We’re putting right two hundred years of mistakes. We’re going back to where we should have been all along. This is the first trial under a brand-new system. A better system. A system with a far stronger claim to legitimacy. We have the right to do it, and what we are doing is right.”
    There was a slight murmur from the crowd. Reacher detected no disapproval in the sound. They were all hypnotized. Basking in Borken’s bright glow like reptiles in a hot noontime sun. Borken nodded to Fowler. Fowler stood up next to Reacher and turned to the jury box.
    “The facts are these,” Fowler said. “The commander sent Loder out on a mission of great importance to all our futures. Loder performed badly. He was gone for just five days, but he made five serious mistakes. Mistakes which could have wrecked the whole venture. Specifically, he left a trail by burning two vehicles. Then he mistimed two operations and thereby snarled up two civilians. And finally he allowed Peter Bell to desert. Five serious mistakes.”
    Fowler stood there. Reacher stared at him, urgently. “I’m calling a witness,” Fowler said. “Stevie Stewart.” Little Stevie stood up fast and Fowler nodded him across to the old witness box, alongside and below the judge’s bench. Borken leaned down and handed him a black book. Reacher couldn’t see what book it was, but it wasn’t a Bible. Not unless they had started making Bibles with swastikas on the cover.
    “You swear to tell the truth here?” Borken asked.
    Stevie nodded.
    “I do, sir,” he said.
    He put the book down and turned to Fowler, ready for the first question.
    “The five mistakes I mentioned?” Fowler said. “You see Loder make them?”
    Stevie nodded again.
    “He made them,” he said.
    “He take responsibility for them?” Fowler asked.
    “Sure did,” Stevie said. “He played the big boss the whole time we were away.”
    Fowler nodded Stevie back to the table. The courtroom was silent. Borken smiled knowingly at the jurymen and glanced down at Loder.
    “Anything to say in your defense?” he asked quietly.
    The way he said it, he made it seem absurd that anybody could possibly dream up any kind of defense to those kinds of charges. The courtroom stayed silent. Still. Borken was watching the crowd. Every pair of eyes was locked onto the back of Loder’s