The first floor Media Center was packed with journalists from around the world. A cacophony of languages swirled in the air as they worked the room and sent out information as it came in.

The “No Broadcast” rule from the Center had been suspended. The world wanted to know what was happening, and the government, knowing it wouldn’t be able to control the flow of information, made certain there was a huge military and police presence in case things went sideways.

The thrum intensified as the convoy approached the courthouse, and the crush of onlookers, dying for a glimpse of the most wanted man in the world, pressed in hundreds deep.

Along the way Hashim had been transferred twice. First, from the Humvee to one of two black Explorers, then from the Explorer to an armored SWAT vehicle. Four military helicopters had picked up the convoy at dawn and followed them into the city, peeling out as the vehicles moved into the underground courthouse garage.

Soldiers weaved around Hashim, three-sixty, as they moved inside the building. They were prepared for anything.

In the elevator going up to the courtroom, Hashim was moved to the back, as a row of four armed agents stood like a wall between him and the elevator doors. Nothing was being taken for granted, outside, or in the building.

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In the courtroom were a slew of prosecuting attorneys, headed by the Attorney General, William Caulder. Carl Robinson, one of the two defense lawyers who’d visited Hashim in prison, was the only one at Hashim’s side.

The jury, a court reporter, and a court artist were the only other civilians allowed here.

Twelve soldiers flanked the courtroom. No journalists were allowed. They’d get reports from the woman assigned to convey the minutes of the trial every hour.

Hashim was brought in. Shackled.

“Your Honor,” Robinson said.

“Yes,” Judge Littelton said in a sharp burst, as if he were a drill sergeant. He was a stern man. Short cropped gray hair and military bearing.

“Would it be possible to have the prisoner’s chains removed, Your Honor?”

Littelton grunted as he stared at Robinson, then Hashim. He motioned for the bailiff to remove Hashim’s chains.

The bailiff approached and removed the manacles from Hashim’s hands and feet. Hashim rubbed his wrists. They were red and bruised.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Hashim said.

Littelton motioned him to sit. Hashim did.

“Mister Caulder. Your opening statement for the prosecution,” Littelton said.

Caulder strode center stage. He was quick and sharp in his delivery.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the government will prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that this man, Abd al Hashim, headed an organization that had the means, the motivation, and the desire to kill thousands of Americans, so that at the end of the trial you’ll turn in a verdict of ‘guilty’ on all counts. Thank you.”

He went back to his seat.