“Thank you, Your Honor.”
“I seriously doubt these TROs will survive their answers, but we shall see.”
When the judge had signed the orders and left the courtroom, Gracie collected the copies from the clerk and walked carefully toward the door with April at her side.
“Gracie, what…” April began, but Gracie put a finger to her lips to quiet her until they were outside in the foyer. They found a bench to sit on and Gracie plopped down, her hand shaking slightly as she held the signed orders.
“That was magnificent, Gracie!” April stage-whispered excitedly, shaking her upper arm.
Gracie’s eyes were closed, her breathing metered as she motioned to wait. Her eyes fluttered open at last and she looked at April and shook her head.
“We almost lost in there.”
“I know, but you yanked her back to reality and won!”
“It’s… I mean, don’t count any chickens, April.”
“We’ve got them on the run now, though. Right? Hey! Let me see at least a little victory smile.”
Gracie nodded, a quick smile flickering across her face, then fading. She looked at April, her eyes haunted.
“She’s right, you know,” Gracie said.
“Sorry?”
“The judge. The government will respond like an anaconda with a blowtorch to its tail. We’ll get a half dozen assistant U.S. attorneys in here tomorrow morning to buttress the judge’s opinion that this whole thing is a delusional construct of a panicked young lawyer’s mind. They’ll have her convinced I’ve been reading too many mystery thrillers. They’ll say they don’t have the wreckage, they have no idea what I’m on about, and they’ll claim that the FAA has virtually no knowledge of the allegations we’ve made, other than the fact I’m defending a dangerous man whom they’ve saved the public from by the license revocation. They’ll point out that the blood tests in Anchorage proved nothing because too many hours had elapsed since the accident. They’ll lean heavily on the visual-flight-into-instrument thing, and it’s the majesty of the government’s word against ours. They’ll slide, dodge, lie, wink, and roll their eyes, and in the end, she’ll throw it all out.” Gracie sighed. “We got the wrong judge.”
“Wait a minute. Won’t they have to at least cough up the tapes the Coast Guard took?”
“Oh, they’ll have a story about those tapes being shipped in from Anchorage, but they’ll be erased by the time we ever see them.”
“Gracie, good grief! Listen to you!”
Gracie shook her head and looked down. “I’m sorry, April. We have to face reality. The only way we’re going to fight this is the traditional way, using the normal FAA and NTSB appeals method. I’ll have to call the captain—”
“Not with a defeatist pity party in progress you won’t!”
“It’s not a pity party. But… well, okay, maybe we can wait awhile.”
“You’re not going to go defeatist on me, Gracie.”
“I’m not trying to be defeatist. I’m trying to be practical and think ahead to the inevitable. This… this was a good gamble, but we’re going to lose it. I’m not saying it wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“Wait… look. Think about your own logic in there. I thought you were brilliant. But go further. If the FAA and the Coast Guard and the Air Force and Navy as a team really are guilty, as we know they are, what would you expect their lawyers to do tomorrow?”
“Sorry?” Gracie looked up, only half listening to the pep talk.
“Actually, you just told me what they’d say in great detail. So why not take the wind out of their sails and start your argument in the morning with their arguments. Give the judge their arguments before they do, and dismember every one of them. You get to go first, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then label the arguments you know they’re going to make for what they are. Lies and dodges, smoke screens and clever side steps. Convince the judge that they’re simply avoiding answering the real questions in hopes she’ll dismiss our case just on their say-so.”
April saw the logic take root as Gracie looked up and nodded, slowly at first, a faint smile returning to her face.
“That could help, April.”
“See?”
“It really could. But I’ve got about a week of work to do in one day.” She got to her feet. “Starting with the not so insignificant task of figuring out how to serve notice on the appropriate government officials. Let’s go.”
“Back to the hotel? Shouldn’t we eat something first?”
Gracie was shaking her head, her energy returning. “Go without me. It’ll take a few hours to get these served. When I get back, just toss some candy bars and coffee in every now and then, and no matter how much I yell or beg or plead, don’t let me out.”
“I think I’ve heard that line before.”
FORTY FIVE
TUESDAY, DAY 9 FEDERAL DISTRICT COURT FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA WASHINGTON, D.C. 11:25 A.M.
Gracie realized she was holding her breath as she waited for the judge to make her ruling. She glanced at April, who flashed a reassuring smile and a small nod, but the intensity of the previous ninety minutes and the energy she’d put into arguing the case were taking a toll on her ability to concentrate. She could see the government lawyers in her peripheral vision as they sat at the adjacent table shuffling papers and exchanging knowing glances. Five of them had shown up, including one newly minted lawyer as young as she. The lead attorney had forcefully argued his way through an impressive list of reasons why the judge should throw out the case and stop wasting everyone’s time. There was, they argued, no jurisdiction, insufficient notice, cases wrongly transferred, an improperly admitted petitioner’s attorney, procedural flaws in the complaints, and the basic fact that it was useless to order the government to produce wreckage they didn’t have.
Gracie had startled the government lawyers by following April’s suggestion and stating the government’s arguments herself, batting them down one by one, but the judge was very good at being impassive and unreadable.
“Very well, ladies and gentlemen, I am prepared to rule,” Judge Walton said suddenly, halting the monologue in Gracie’s head.
“I find the plaintiff’s arguments insufficient to sustain the maintenance of the various temporary restraining orders. Those orders are dissolved, and the petition for injunctions in all three combined matters is denied. These cases are dismissed.”
The gavel came down as Gracie forced herself to her feet.
“Your Honor, we serve notice of intent to immediately appeal your rulings of dismissal.”
“So noted,” the judge said, gathering her papers and evaporating from the bench through the door to her chambers.
Once again April was at her side, but Gracie motioned her back and walked over to the lead government lawyer instead.
“You gentlemen realize this is merely the opening round?” Gracie said with a cautious smile.
The senior lawyer nodded. “We fully expect we’ll see you again at some point, Miss O’Brien.”
“All this is unnecessary, you know,” she added.
He looked at her in silence for a few seconds, aware the other four on his team had quieted and were listening discreetly. The man was in his late forties and clearly a veteran.
“Precisely what do you mean?” he asked.