ow shoulders and clearly looked like something from another age。 The jury box was to Ryan's left。 Eight women and four men sat in two even rows； each face full of anticipation。 Above them was the public gallery； perched like a choir loft and angled so that Ryan could barely see the people there。 The barristers were to Ryan's right； across the small floorspace； wearing black robes； 18th…century cravats； and their own； smaller wigs。 The net effect of all this was a vaguely religious atmosphere that made Ryan slightly uneasy as he was sworn in。
William Richards； QC； the prosecutor； was a man of Ryan's age； similar in height and build。 He began with the usual questions： your name； place of residence； profession； when did you arrive； for what purpose？ Richards predictably had a flair for the dramatic； and by the time the questions carried them to the shooting； Ryan could sense the excitement and anticipation of the audience without even looking at their faces。
〃Doctor Ryan； could you describe in your own words what happened next？〃
Jack did exactly this for ten minutes； without interruption； all the while half…facing the jury。 He tried to avoid looking into their faces。 It seemed an odd place to get stage fright； but this was precisely what Ryan felt。 He focused his eyes on the oak panels just over their heads as he ran through the events。 It was almost like living it again； and Ryan could feel his heart beating faster as he concluded。
〃And； Doctor Ryan； can you identify for us the man whom you first attacked？〃 Richards finally asked。
〃Yes； sir。〃 Ryan pointed。 〃The defendant； right there； sir。〃
It was Ryan's first really good look at him。 His name was Sean Miller not a particularly Irish name to Ryan's way of thinking。 He was twenty…six； short； slender； dressed neatly in a suit and tie。 He was smiling up at someone in the visitors' gallery； a family member perhaps； when Ryan pointed。 Then his gaze shifted； and Ryan examined the man for the first time。 What sort of person； Jack had wondered for weeks； could plan and execute such a crime？ What was missing in him； or what terrible thing lived in him that most civilized people had the good fortune to lack？ The thin； acne…scarred face was entirely normal。 Miller could have been an executive trainee at Merrill Lynch or any other business concern。 Jack's father had spent his life dealing with criminals； but their existence was a puzzlement to Ryan。 Why are you different？ What makes you what you are？ Ryan wanted to ask； knowing that even if there were an answer the question would remain。 Then he looked at Miller's eyes。 He looked for 。 。 。 something； a spark of life； humanity something that would say that this was indeed another human being。 It could only have been two seconds； but for Ryan the moment seemed to linger into minutes as he looked into those pale gray eyes and saw 。 。 。
Nothing。 Nothing at all。 And Jack began to understand a little。
〃The record will show；〃 the Lord Justice intoned to the court reporter； 〃that the witness identified the defendant； Sean Miller。〃
〃Thank you； My Lord；〃 Richards concluded。
Ryan took the opportunity to blow his nose。 He'd acquired a head cold over the preceding weekend。
〃Are you quite fortable； Doctor Ryan？〃 the judge inquired。 Jack realized that he'd been leaning on the wooden rail。
〃Excuse me； your hon My Lord。 This cast is a little tiring。〃 Every time Sally came past her father； she had taken to singing； 〃I'm a little teapot 。 。 。〃
〃Bailiff； a stool for the witness；〃 the judge ordered。
The defense team was seated adjacent to the prosecution； perhaps fifteen feet farther away in the same row of seats； green leather cushions on the oak benches。 In a moment the bailiff arrived with a simple wooden stool； and Ryan settled down on it。 What he really needed was a hook for his left arm； but he was gradually being used to the weight。 It was the constant itching that drove him crazy； though there was nothing anybody could do about that。
The defense attorney barrister rose with elegant deliberation。 His name was Charles Atkinson； more monly known as Red Charlie； a lawyer with a penchant for radical causes and radical crimes。 He was supposed to be an embarrassment to the Labour Party； which he had served until recently in Parliament。 Red Charlie was about thirty pounds overweight； his wig askew atop a florid； strangely thin face for the ample frame。 Defending terrorists must have paid well enough； Ryan thought。 There's a question Owens must be looking into； Ryan told himself。 Where is your money ing from； Mr。 Atkinson？
〃May it please Your Lordship；〃 he said formally to the bench。 He walked slowly towards Ryan； a sheaf of notes in his hand。
〃Doctor Ryan or should I say Sir John？〃
Jack waved his hand。 〃Whatever is convenient to you； sir；〃 he answered indifferently。 They had warned him about Atkinson。 A very clever bastard； they'd said。 Ryan had known quite a few clever bastards in the brokerage business。
〃You were； I believe； a leftenant in the United States Marine Corps？〃
〃Yes； sir； that is correct。〃
Atkinson looked down at his notes； then over at the jury。 〃Bloodthirsty mob； the U。S。 Marines；〃 he muttered。
〃Excuse me； sir？ Bloodthirsty？〃 Ryan asked。 〃No； sir。 Most of the Marines I know are beer drinkers。〃
Atkinson spun back at Ryan as a ripple of laughter came down from the gallery。 He gave Jack a thin； dangerous smile。 They'd warned Jack most of all to beware his word games and tactical skill in the courtroom。 To hell with it； Ryan told himself。 He smiled back at the barrister。 Go for it； asshole 。 。 。
〃Forgive me； Sir John。 A figure of speech。 I meant to say that the U。S。 Marines have a reputation for aggressiveness。 Surely this is true？〃
〃Marines are light infantry troops who specialize in amphibious assault。 We were pretty well trained； but when you get down to it we weren't all that different from any other kind of soldier。 It's just a matter of specialization in a particularly tough field；〃 Ryan answered； hoping to throw him a little off balance。 Marines were supposed to be arrogant； but that was mostly movie stuff。 If you're really good； they'd taught him at Quantico； you don't have to be arrogant。 Just letting people know you're a Marine was usually enough。
〃Assault troops？〃
〃Yes； sir。 That's basically correct。〃
〃So； you manded assault troops； then？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃Try not to be too modest； Sir John。 What sort of man is selected to lead such troops。 Aggressive？ Decisive？ Bold？ Certainly he would have more of these qualities than the average foot soldier？〃
〃As a matter of fact； sir； in my edition of The Marine Officer's Guide； the foremost of the qualities that the Corps looks for in an officer is integrity。〃 Ryan smiled again。 Atkinson hadn't don6 his homework on that score。 〃I manded a platoon； sure； but as my captain explained to me when I came aboard； my principal job was to carry out the orders he gave me； and to lean on my gunny my platoon sergeant for his practical experience。 The job I was in was supposed to be as much a learning experience as a mand slot。 I mean； in business it's called an entry…level position。 You don't start shaking the world your first day on the job in any business。〃
Atkinson frowned a bit。 This was not going as he'd expected。
〃Ah； then； Sir John； a leftenant of American Marines is really a leader of Boy Scouts。 Surely you don't mean that？〃 he asked； a sarcastic edge on his voice。
〃No； sir。 Excuse me； I did not mean to give that impression； but we're not a bunch of hyperaggressive barbarians either。 My job was to carry out orders； to be as aggressive as the situation called for； and to exercise some amount of judgment； like any officer。 But I was only there three months； and I was still learning how to be an officer when I was injured。 Marines follow orders。 Officers give orders； of course； but a second lieutenant is the lowest form of officer。 You take more than you give。 I guess you've never been in the service；〃 Ryan tagged on the barb at the end。
〃So； what sort of training did they give you？〃 Atkinson demanded； either angry or feigning it。