The heat of the afternoon was peaking, and the air conditioning seemed to be losing the battle against the Texas sun.

I walked over to the window and watched them cross the parking lot.

Two military police officers in white helmets met them at the curb.

They led them toward a gray staff car.

The reporters outside the gate were already pointing their cameras through the chain-link fence.

The flashbulbs were hard to see in the bright sunlight, but I could see the blue reflection on the car windows.

I knew this was just the beginning.

The formal charge sheets would be drafted by tomorrow morning.

Andrew’s career was over, but the damage to the base would take months to repair.

And the trial would be public.

The telephone on the wall began to ring.

I didn’t answer it.

I stood by the window and watched the gray staff car drive slowly toward the housing area.

The red light on the console on the table began to flash again.

It was a steady, demanding rhythm.

The phone kept ringing.

I finally picked up the receiver.