Extraordinary Rendition

37

“THE ROOM IS SECURE,” Justin Goldberg said, “and the court reporter is on the record. Counsel, state your appearances.”

“Hamerindapal Rana, for the United States. With me are Helen Gardner and Bart Stone, both Assistant U.S. Attorneys.”

“Byron Johnson for defendant Ali Hussein.”

Justin Goldberg was, as usual, crisp and business-like. “Let the record reflect that I initiated this conference. I did so because I received from an anonymous source, by mail, in an envelope with no return address and with postage stamps, a disk containing a video. It is that video’s content that has caused me to call this conference.”

Justin Goldberg held up the disk by its edge. It glinted momentarily. “The video on this disk reflects events involving the defendant.”

Justin Goldberg paused, staring at Hal Rana. Byron had long ago learned that it was often more important to watch than it was to act. He waited.

“I’m disturbed. Let me tell the government, to which I will give a copy of this disk, that I want a written explanation of why this video was not disclosed by the United States to the court so that the court could evaluate whether to turn the video over to the defense or treat it as national security material.”

Hal Rana made a mistake. He said, “I knew nothing about a video depicting Mr. Hussein.”

Curt, icy, and imperious as a god, Justin Goldberg said, “Be careful, Mr. Rana. I will continue to pay careful attention to this. You shouldn’t comment on this until the government investigates and provides the explanation I require. Listen carefully. Who other than the defendant is on the video? What were their duties? Where was this taken. When? Why? Who had custody of the video? To whom were copies given?”

Hal Rana made another mistake. “Your Honor, can we ask Mr. Johnson whether he has seen a video with his client in it?”

“No, no, no,” Justice Goldberg said. “At the moment Mr. Johnson doesn’t concern me. You concern me. Mr. Johnson didn’t make the video. You did. If I have issues with Mr. Johnson, I will reach them soon.”

Justin Goldberg waved his hand as if brushing lint from his suit. It was a gesture of dismissal. Byron Johnson was the first to stand and first to leave. His heart raced. Almost incredibly, Justin Goldberg was showing independence and courage. He had not just tossed away or ignored the disk Byron had anonymously mailed to him.

For the first time in many weeks, he was happy.