Marine One

8

I NEEDED TO call Britt right away, but first things first. I asked Rachel and Justin, my unique, disheveled paralegal, to come to my office. We sat in a small conference room just down the hall from my office, between Rachel's office and Justin's carrel in the library. I said, "We need to get all the records we can on Collins. Justin, put together a Freedom of Information Act request to DOD. I want everything. Personnel files, fitness reports, test scores, discipline, go back to the Naval Academy-grades, infractions, demerits, everything. And get on the Internet. Look at everything that's out there since the crash. I'm sure they're already doing a Lee Harvey on him and accusing him of being somebody's pawn. I just want to know what's being said. Look at everything."

"Will do," Justin said as he wrote. He looked up at me. "You think the government will give all that to us?"

"No. We'll have to fight them over documents. Probably have to file a lawsuit to enforce it. But the sooner we get on it, the sooner we can force the issue."

Rachel asked, "Know anybody at the Pentagon who works in personnel?"

"Yeah, but I can't do that." I pondered for a moment. "We've also got to find out things about him that the government wouldn't even know. His personal life, his family life, everything. All the things he's lied about in his physical exams, or his background." I had an idea. I looked at their faces to see if they had thought of the same thing at the same time. "You know what we need to do?"

They shook their heads.

"Call Tinny."

Rachel said, "Well, if you want information and don't care too much about how you get it, he's the guy."

I said to Justin, "Dial it."

He reached over to the credenza, grabbed the phone, and pulled it onto the conference room table. He knew Tinny's number by heart. We used Tinny on nearly every criminal case we handled. Tinny gave me an advantage the prosecutors always underestimated. When they knew he was working on a case, they paid more attention, but I tended not to tell them until trial was imminent.

Justin dialed the number, and we heard Tinny's cell phone ring. He answered it in his recognizable voice with the one word he always said when he answered his cell phone; "Byrd."

I spoke loudly into the speakerphone, "Tinny, Mike Nolan."

"Hey, big shot. What's up?"

He knew what I needed him for. It was always the same thing. He found things, or found things out. He knew how to dig and to find information no one else could find. After a ten-year stint in the Marine Corps as an enlisted man, he got his private investigator's license. He did that for a couple of years, then worked as an investigator for the Baltimore District Attorney's Office. He ultimately moved up to chief investigator for that office. He'd somehow gotten sideways with them, just short of his retirement, which made his departure all the more puzzling. He never talked about it. He implied it had to do with race. He was black and the new DA was a white woman who apparently hated him. He did rub some people the wrong way and had a general distrust of authority, but mostly for those who had authority and didn't deserve it.

After his falling-out, he had moved to Washington, D.C., to set up his own private investigation firm. He now worked almost exclusively investigating criminal cases on the defense side and loved making life difficult for district attorneys, U.S. attorneys, and other arrogant government-employed assholes.

"Tinny, I need your help."

"Hold on. Let me get in my car." We could hear him disarming the alarm in his car-his prized black Corvette-opening the door, closing it behind him, then being enveloped in silence. "All right. I'm in a big damn hurry so talk fast."

"The government's already threatening criminal charges against WorldCopter, one of the families will probably hire an attorney who will sue them for infinity dollars, and I got all kinds of questions that need answering. I want you to help me answer them. There's nobody better. I want you to help me dig into everything, starting with the pilot."

"The pilot?"

"The pilot. Collins. You've heard some people on the news talking about what a fabulous pilot he was; war hero. But I've got suspicions I need help with."

"You're going to hang this on the pilot? In the middle of the biggest thunderstorm in the history of Maryland?"

"I'm not trying to hang it on anybody. I'm trying to keep from getting hung on. I'm chasing every fact down every rabbit hole, but I need people who can navigate down rabbit holes that I can't fit in. That's you."

"I'm bigger than you, Nolan, not smaller."

"Yeah. The metaphor broke down. You get the point though."

"What do you want me to check out on this pilot?"

"Everything you can-medical records, fitness reports, his citations, everything. We've got to get them from the Pentagon, from family, wherever we can."

"One Marine to another, Nolan, I can get those records out of the Pentagon. You know I can."

I looked at Justin and Rachel, who were staring at me. I put up my hands. "I don't want you doing anything illegal; this all has to be aboveboard."

"Right. What else?"

"We should probably get together and talk about all the other things. I've got a to-do list that's taken on a life of its own. You've got to help me get some sleep, Tinny."

"All right, Mike, let's do this. But there's one other thing. I don't think I told you about my new rate sheet."

I just rolled my eyes. I saw this coming. "A new rate sheet? You're killing me."

"No. I wouldn't do that. And the new rates are effective today. I'll fax you a copy of the sheet this afternoon."

"What are your new rates?"

"As of right now, they only apply to complex cases. I'll work the other cases into the new rates as the new cases come in, but unfortunately they're twice what I've charged up until just yesterday."

"Come on, Tinny. Give me a break."

"I'm giving you a break by getting involved in this. This thing has stink all over; you just can't smell it yet. You're too excited about being involved. I'm telling you, this thing's going to be ugly. When you're talking about the president being killed, his family, his wife, an American hero pilot, and a French helicopter company, the currents are going to be so deep and so swift, you'll get drowned in about a millisecond. And I'll be there to pull you out. I may have to triple my rates."

"Just send me the rate sheet. I'll be in touch."

"I'll send you that rate sheet right away. By the way, this pilot, Collins, what's his first name? What's his address?"

"You jumping right on this, Tinny?"

"If you think this guy's got something to do with the accident, somebody else is going to think that too. I'm sure the feds are already digging, but I'll beat them to it. I promise I'll get to something before they do. Something they might not even look for."

"His name is Chuck Collins. His address is in Woodbridge, Virginia."

"Charles? Okay. What's his wife's name?"

"Melissa. What difference does this make? You leave her out of this."

"Not a chance, friend, not a chance. See ya." And with that, his cell phone went dead.

I looked at Rachel and Justin, who were both still staring at the speakerphone. "I hope that was the right decision."

Rachel said, "He's never failed us before. It's just sometimes his methods are a little sketchy."

"I've got to make a call," I said. They got the hint and left for their own offices. I dialed Britt's number at his office in Arlington, Virginia.

Britt was a Beltway bandit. His company lived off government contracts, mostly military. He worked for Bachman Aerospace, which was developing a series of light-helicopter UAVs-unmanned aerial vehicles. Drones. His division had developed a helicopter the size of a coffee table that had eight rotor blades, four rotating in one direction, and another four on top of the first four rotating in the opposite direction. Counterrotating blades. No tail rotor necessary. It ran on a small jet engine the size of my forearm and could fly 120 miles per hour after vertical takeoff. It carried all the sensors the Marine Corps wanted: video, infrared, and the newest radar system. Even weapons. The Marine Corps was hot to purchase this amazing little helicopter. Britt was in the middle of the contract proposal and had no time, but when he heard that the call was from me, he immediately picked up the phone. "Nolan! What are you doing?"

"Thanks for taking my call, Jason, I know you're busy."

"Never too busy for a fellow Marine."

I wasn't sure how to approach him. I needed to gather everything I could on Collins, but I didn't want to make Britt think I was taking advantage of our friendship. "How about Marine One?" I said casually.

Britt sighed. "Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. Can't believe they took off in that storm. You got any ideas?"

"Yeah, I got lots of ideas, but I should tell you what I'm doing."

"What?"

"You remember I practice law in Annapolis?"

"Sure. From Marine pilot to parasite on the great American economy, keeping the world safe for felons and child molesters."

"I'll remember that when you get arrested. Because I'm sure you wouldn't want to be represented by some parasite attorney."

"True. I'd rather rot in prison than pay a cent to a lawyer. So what are you talking about?"

"I do civil cases too, not just criminal."

"And?"

"I've been hired to represent WorldCopter in the crash of Marine One."

"Are you shitting me? Talk about getting thrown into it."

"Yeah, it's a pretty crazy time. So far it's just a bunch of investigations, but I'm sure the other shoe will drop at some point. It's the kind of case that you always want, until you're in it, then you wonder what happened to your life. Look, I need to ask you about something, but if you don't want to talk to me about it, that's okay. But I have to find some stuff out. Can you help me out?"

"What?"

"Collins."

There was a pregnant pause as Britt suddenly got the point of my call. "I wondered when somebody was going to start asking me about him. I didn't think it'd be you."

"Anybody else asked you about him? Since the accident?"

"No."

"Listen, if you don't want to talk to me, that's cool. A lot of this is going to get real official real fast, but I need to do some quick checking on Collins. What do you think?"

His voice warmed only slightly. "I'm gonna be answering a lot of questions about him anyway."

I picked up my pen and prepared to take silent notes. Witnesses clam up when they hear a keyboard. "So, let's go back to the beginning."

Once Britt got over the idea of talking about Collins, he began gushing information. He spent an hour talking with me. They had been in the same squadron more than once. He had observed Collins up close both as a peer and as a superior officer. Several things he said stuck with me. After telling me about a near accident Collins had been involved in, which wasn't his fault, he mentioned in passing that Collins read a lot.

I knew a lot of Marines who liked to read, contrary to their general reputation. Some of it was from the "Marine officer reading list," which was started by General Alfred M. Gray when he was the commandant of the Marine Corps. But this sounded different. "Where did he read?"

"What do you mean?"

"How would you know he read a lot?"

"Because I saw him."

"Where?"

"Ready room. Kept books in his chair in the ready room."

"That's odd."

"It was. Lots of guys were interested in politics, what was going on, Rush Limbaugh sort of books. You know."

"But he was different?"

"Yeah. Very."

"What did he read?"

"It was more serious stuff. Hard-core economics books, for one. Some guy from Austria-can't remember his name-and books nobody else had ever heard of that always claimed to have the Secret. I guess I'd say he seemed fascinated by conspiracy theories."

"You mean black helicopters and world-domination conspiracies?"

"Sort of. I don't know. He didn't really talk about them much. He was sort of a loner."

"Did you get a flavor at all? Anything you can remember?"

"It's hard to describe. Most Marines support the government generally. Except for taxes of course"-he laughed-"which they think are mostly just pissed away and should be used to buy more airplanes and ammo. But some people, like Collins, have a deep distrust of the government. I forget what the political party is called, or what that theory is. They don't think there should be any government."

"Anarchists?"

"No, these guys think there should be some police, and military. What-"

"Libertarians?"

"Yeah, that's it. I'm not sure if he was a sort of radical libertarian, but he thought the government was corrupt. Really corrupt. At the highest levels, and would read book after book about it. He'd get smug and sarcastic about it. When something would go wrong, like we had to deploy early-which was most of the time, by the way-"

"Tell me about it."

"Well, he'd say, 'What do you expect?' and have this snotty smile. Always thought there was a wizard somewhere pulling the levers."

I was writing furiously. "Anything else?"

"Not really. Great pilot. Great guy, usually."

"Was he in any organizations or anything?"

"I don't know, not that-"

"Did the FBI interview you when he got the job as CO of HMX-1?"

"Yeah. What a joke."

"You tell them all this?"

"Hell no. Of course not."

"Why not?"

"They didn't ask about what he read. They asked stupid questions: was he a member of an organization whose intention was to overthrow the government of the United States? What a dumb-ass question. I'm sure they get a lot of yes answers to that brilliant question. I wouldn't have been real talkative anyway. I didn't want to kill his chance to get his dream job."

"Well, was he in any weird organizations?"

"I don't think so. He got a lot of magazines and stuff too."

"You're making him sound like a UFO nut."

"No, he wasn't like that. But a similar mentality. You've seen it. They'll believe anything-at least in that area. They obsess about it, talk to other people who are obsessing, and sort of form an insiders' club. They've broken the code. You know the type."

"Any other officers he hung out with who were on the same page with him on this stuff?"

"Not really. He was pretty much on his own. He used to tell us, though, that our oath was to fight 'all enemies foreign and domestic.' You know, the oath-'I'-state your name-'do solemnly swear or affirm that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies-' "

"Sure."

"Well, he'd see Ted Kennedy or somebody on the TV, and his jaw would clench. He'd say, 'Foreign and domestic.' Like Ted Kennedy was a domestic enemy."

"Good pilot though."

"Probably the best in the Corps. It wasn't even close really. Total natural. You know, frankly, if I were the president? I'd want Collins flying my helicopter too. He'd get you there."

"Except this time."

"Well, I'd bet it wasn't his fault. I'd bet that French helicopter killed him and the president."

"That's my client."

"Too bad for you."

Then I asked him the critical question. "So, Britt, help me figure out how this happened, how did the president's helicopter go down?"

"How the hell would I know? You're the one doing the investigation, why you asking me?"

"Just wondered if you had any theories. You think of anything in Collins's personality that could contribute to the crash?"

There was a pause. Britt finally asked, "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing specific."

"He could screw it up just like any of us could, I guess. He wasn't Superman. But if I were going to pick the pilot least likely to screw up flying through a storm, it would be him. Do I think that's what happened? No."

"But could he have caused it? Could he have… caused it?"

The light went on. "Are you asking me whether he did it on purpose?"

"You yourself said he could get a conspiracy theory in his head. I've got to consider every angle."

"Shit, Nolan! What are you trying to do? You trying to hang this on a fellow Marine? What the hell kind of shaft job is that? Look, I've got to go. Talk to you later." The line went dead.

Senator Blankenship had accomplished much of what he wanted simply by announcing the hearings. As the chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, he could force hearings, which he did. He set them for the Caucus Room in the Russell Senate Office Building, not coincidentally the site of the Watergate and Iran-contra hearings. He was furious and was determined to make WorldCopter feel his heat.

Within a week after his initial press conference, subpoenas had flown out of the Capitol to all corners of the country and even overseas. The subpoenas were not effective overseas, but ignoring them would be untenable for WorldCopter. So Jean Claude Martin was one of the several "voluntary" foreign witnesses.

Blankenship had imposed his will on Lisa Romaro, the Senate majority leader, to start the hearings three weeks after the accident, before the dust had even settled. He wanted to get people on the record before they had a chance to construct their revisionist history of Marine One.

Blankenship knew the DOJ was pushing WorldCopter hard, gathering documents and tickling the pearl handles of their criminal accusations; but he wanted to get it all in front of the world and the television cameras to see what WorldCopter said in response to hard questions. He didn't really care if the testimony he wanted jeopardized the investigation of the Justice Department. He was doing this for the country.

As the hearings got under way, Blankenship was pleased that the entire country and much of the rest of the world tuned in. The government had been quiet about the crash so far, and this was the first chance for people to hear about what might have killed President Adams. People gathered around televisions wherever they could to hear pieces of testimony.

Blankenship set the witness list carefully. He called witnesses from the government who had selected WorldCopter as the winner of the helicopter competition to build the next Marine One. They testified in somber tones with obvious disappointment how they had carefully laid out all of the requirements for the helicopter that would be used as Marine One, not the least of which was a proven track record, a history of impeccable safety, and assurances that whoever built the next Marine One would have the proper employees and subcontractors who had Yankee White-level clearances. They explained how they had relied on WorldCopter's representation of how quickly they could have the security checks completed and Marine One delivered in time to fulfill the contract.

The senators on the Armed Services Committee had been bipartisan in their attacks on WorldCopter since the crash. Now they were all in the Senate Caucus Room with all the bright lights and energy the journalistic interest could muster. For the first time since any of the committee members could remember, they all felt exactly the same way about what was transpiring in the hearing.

After the procurement witnesses, Pentagon officials marched through the hearing room to describe the process of selecting the competitors for Marine One and then the fly-off, where military test pilots evaluated the competitors. The distinct impression left by all the witnesses, who had been reading from the same government playbook, was that the other helicopter was superior to the WorldCopter helicopter (which called itself an American helicopter) that had been selected for Marine One. Left unsaid but clear was that forces had been at play other than merit that caused someone to choose the WorldCopter offering. This had of course been the drumbeat of the American helicopter company since the decision had been made, and the company used this chance to provide all kinds of back-channel information to senators and witnesses to make WorldCopter look bad.

On the fourth day of the hearings, the WorldCopter witnesses were finally called to defend themselves. Even though I'd had a lot of criminal law experience, I didn't have any experience representing witnesses in Senate investigations. William Morton did, but the bad news is that attorneys have limited power in Senate hearings. Far less than in a trial or arbitration. They can only clarify the questions or attempt to deflect some of the impact. No real rules of evidence apply like in a courtroom where you can rely on an agreed set of rules to object to a question as leading or compound, or to complain that it is obvious political grandstanding and not really a question at all. You might be able to make a claim of attorney-client privilege, if appropriate, but essentially you tried to make it come out better in subtle and clever ways. Some resorted to making comical comments, like Brendan Sullivan's famous statement at the Iran-contra hearings when representing Marine lieutenant colonel Oliver North when he challenged a senator who was ignoring him by saying, "Senator, I am not a potted plant." But that kind of fun was rare, and most attorneys left the hearings frustrated and the witnesses left bloody from senators standing on top of them.

Senator Blankenship, not one to shy from a confrontation on behalf of the United States, called Jean Claude Martin, the president and CEO of WorldCopter, as the first witness from the company. Martin wanted William Morton to defend him, but he asked me to be at the table too. We entered the jammed Caucus Room through the small aisle that wound between the audience, the journalists, and light poles. Jean Claude sat in front of the microphone at the table covered with green felt. Morton sat to his left. I sat to Jean Claude's right.

Jean Claude looked poised and calm. We knew differently. We had spent countless hours preparing him. Half our time had been spent giving him information about the helicopter's construction and the contract with the government that he had either never known or grown unsure about. The other half was spent grilling him and pressing him harder than any senator was likely to have the nerve to duplicate. But there's a big difference between preparing for an inquisition and being in one. His hands were shaking slightly. Jean Claude knew it and kept his hands out of sight until he was able to settle down.

Blankenship began the questioning himself. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He spent the first two hours grilling Jean Claude on the U.S. operations of WorldCopter, trying to show that it was simply a front for WorldCopter France, and that the only manufacturing of the helicopter, in reality, occurred in France. Some "assembly" took place in the United States, but by the end of the two hours everyone understood the helicopter was made in France.

Blankenship moved to the next tab in the notebook full of questions that had been prepared by the lawyers on his staff. "From what I understand," he said, his voice booming with the cameras whirring away, "WorldCopter U.S. was established as a joint venture solely to satisfy the 'made in USA' requirements for the Marine One contract. Correct?" He made quotation marks with his bony fingers when saying "made in USA."

"In other words, you couldn't even compete for the contract-WorldCopter couldn't-without the U.S. subsidiary supposedly doing the manufacturing, right?"

"No, Senator. That's not right." Jean Claude's English was quite good, but the more he spoke, and the hotter it got, the heavier his accent got. "WorldCopter already had a U.S. subsidiary that has handled all American sales of WorldCopter. We have been selling and assembling helicopters in the United States for almost twenty years."

"My mistake, Mr. Martin," Blankenship said with an intentional American pronunciation instead of the French. "I was unclear. I was concentrating on the joint venture part of this little arrangement. WorldCopter had a U.S. subsidiary, but it joined with the Hammer and Blalock Corporation, the major U.S. military contractor, which then agreed to produce one-fifth of the parts for Marine One. Isn't that right?"

"Partially, Senator. We did enter into a joint venture with Hammer Blalock to provide one-fifth of the parts for the helicopter, that's true."

Senator Blankenship was unimpressed. "Well, the point of my question, sir, is that it was that joint venture that allowed you to participate in the bidding process to manufacture Marine One, correct?"

"Well, sir, there was a requirement that at least twenty percent of the parts of the helicopter be actually manufactured inside the United States borders and that did allow us to meet that criteria."

"Then as I understand your answer, it is yes?"

"It is what I said."

"Well, prior, sir, to WorldCopter bidding on the Marine One contract, WorldCopter didn't make any parts in the United States, did it?"

"No, sir."

"WorldCopter never utilized a single American worker to make any single part on a single WorldCopter helicopter before you decided to bid on Marine One on the government contract, isn't that right?"

"I'm not sure I would say it that way. We employ three hundred and forty American citizens in our subsidiary in the United States-"

"Now you do, but thirty days before this bid was submitted to get the Marine One contract, you had twenty-seven employees in the United States. Correct?"

"I believe that is correct."

"And thirteen of them were French, correct?"

"I don't know the numbers exactly, Senator, but that sounds pretty close."

"Well, only one person who was born in this country was even an officer of WorldCopter U.S. Right?"

"I'm not sure, Senator."

"Not sure? Well, I sure am. Here's the list." Blankenship held it up dramatically for the television cameras. "Would you like me to read it to you?"

"I don't think that will be necessary."

Blankenship sat back and stared at the president of WorldCopter. The tension built in the room. "Sir, this whole joint venture is a charade on the American people. It was created to get the government contract. You certainly didn't need to have Hammer and Blalock build parts that were already being built in France, did you?"

"We were enthusiastic to participate with them in the manufacturing of Marine One and to have them help us manufacture Marine One in the United States. Just like Boeing transferred some of the manufacturing to China when it got the contract to build aircraft for Chinese airlines, or General Dynamics allowed Norway to help build the F-16 when it was placing those aircraft with NATO. It's very common, and I think it's very healthy for both countries involved."

Blankenship looked at Martin as if he were stupid. "Are you comparing the state of the United States aviation industry to that of the Chinese or the Norwegians? The United States already has a healthy helicopter industry, don't we? We don't need a European helicopter manufacturer here to 'show us how' or to 'get us going.' Particularly one that's faking the manufacturing just to satisfy the criteria in a contract bid!" Blankenship smelled an opening. "Sir, at the time that General Dynamics sold F-16s to Norway, Norway certainly didn't have any native fighter industry, did it? And when Boeing agreed to allow China to help build Boeing aircraft, China didn't have much of a native commercial aircraft industry, did it? It's a completely different situation."

Morton interjected, "Senator, I don't think we're here to debate policy or whether it's wise for various countries to share technology with other countries."

Senator Blankenship leaned forward and looked at Morton. "Who invited you to this hearing, sir? I'm here to ask questions of the president of WorldCopter, not some high-priced Washington lawyer who's trying to keep the truth from coming out."

Morton was stunned. "Senator, witnesses have a right to counsel at these hearings as you well know." He paused. "I'm not trying to keep the truth from coming out at all, Senator. I'm trying to keep this witness from becoming a political tool."

Blankenship turned beet red. "A tool? You think this is about politics? Sir, this is about killing the president of the United States. This is about a foreign company winning a contract they didn't deserve to win, and then failing to comply with a contract resulting in the death of the president. This is about fraud. You think that's politics?"

Morton was appropriately quiet. Blankenship was aching for a fight.

Blankenship returned his angry gaze to Martin. "Now I want to talk about fraud." He turned the page dramatically in his notebook. "You're aware there have been allegations of fraud in the contracting process for Marine One."

Martin wanted to throw it right back at him, but restrained himself. "I have heard people make reckless accusations."

Blankenship didn't even look up. "What was the bid and accepted price for the entire Marine One contract, sir?"

Martin said, "Six point one billion dollars."

"And by the time the first helicopter was delivered, the price for the contract was what, sir?"

"Twelve point five billion."

"And that was in spite of the fact that the navy asked for zero changes. Right?"

"No, sir, the navy tasked us with nineteen hundred additional requirements that weren't in the original contract."

Blankenship held up a document. "I have a sworn statement from the lead navy contracting officer, sir. Let me read to you what she says: 'This idea that the navy gave them nineteen hundred additional requirements is simply not true. It's a myth, and it's becoming a legend.' " Blankenship paused. "Is she lying?"

Martin snapped back, "They asked us for a helicopter, then because of the post-9/11 requirements said it had to be able to jam incoming missiles, be hardened to some nuclear blasts, and have the same videoconferencing and encrypted communications capabilities as Air Force One. That made it very expensive to essentially redesign the entire helicopter, and those requirements were not in the original contract."

Blankenship smiled ironically. "Funny you should mention Air Force One. Each of those 747s cost less than one of these helicopters. Did you know that?"

"That's not the case, Senator."

"Yes, it is! These helicopters cost the U.S. taxpayers four hundred million dollars apiece! That's more than the 747!"

"Yes, well, the 747s were built many years ago-"

"No, sir! That's in today's dollars! I adjusted the price for inflation." Blankenship paused. "It is hard to believe that a helicopter can cost more than a 747, isn't it? You didn't believe it. You can see why we believe there's fraud. When you pay for an Indy car and get a VW, you look into it. At least this committee is certainly going to."

At that point, I knew one of us was going to have to take a spear for WorldCopter. "Senator, excuse me, I'm Mike Nolan-"

"Who, sir, asked you to speak?"

"Well, Senator, no one asked me to speak, but as an attorney I'm rarely asked to speak."

The audience chuckled. Blankenship didn't see the humor. "Please remain quiet, Mr. Nolan. Mr. Martin is represented here by competent counsel. Perhaps you can't see him. He's sitting on the other side of Mr. Martin."

Nice. "Actually he's being represented here by both of us, I just haven't spoken before this. I'd be happy to be quiet, Senator, but I need to say one thing first. You say this isn't about politics, yet you ask questions that imply dishonesty, fraud, lack of contractual compliance, and malice on the part of WorldCopter. The cost increases you just alluded to were based on changes requested by the government. And the cost increases were approved. This has been in the papers for years. There is nothing new here. And as to the implication that WorldCopter caused this accident, that is remarkable, particularly in light of the fact that no one has any idea what caused this accident. The NTSB hasn't issued its preliminary findings, yet you are ready to lynch WorldCopter when they may have done absolutely nothing wrong. You will find out, Senator, that the reason the clearances, for example, were not obtained in a timely fashion was because the FBI failed to do the investigation they promised to do. I-"

Blankenship took his large wooden gavel and was about to slam it down to try to shut me up when one of his aides approached him from behind and handed him a piece of paper. He stopped to read it, then looked at me over his reading glasses. The look on his face told me I didn't want to hear what he was about to say. He said nothing until the room was completely silent. He looked away from me toward Jean Claude. "Sir, I've just been handed what is entitled 'Preliminary Assessment' from the NTSB. I am told this is remarkably quick for that investigative body, but they say it isn't a full 'Preliminary Report.' " He paused, looked at the paper again. "It says some things initially, then goes on to say, 'It is our initial assessment that there was no foul play in the crash of Marine One. We are concentrating on the possibility that there was a design or manufacturing defect that caused the crash.' "

I was still standing. I put up my hands up at my sides, palms out in surrender, and sat down.

Blankenship said to Jean Claude, "Sir, let's back way up and talk about how this helicopter was designed and built. Because I have the same concerns as the NTSB."