"No."

"Agent Beckeman, what kind of bomb did the defendant intend to detonate in the stadium?"

"A big bomb."

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"We are pursuing leads as to the source of the materials."

"But you testified that you recovered no bomb-making materials during your searches."

"That's correct."

"Then what leads are you pursuing?"

"Credible leads."

"Credible leads? Agent Beckeman, do you have any evidence whatsoever tying Mr. Mustafa to the plot to bomb Cowboys Stadium?"

"I am not a liberty to divulge all our evidence at this time because it would threaten national security."

"National security?"

"Yes, Mr. Turner. National security."

He said it with a straight face. Frank stared at the agent a long moment then looked at Scott. He turned his palms up as if to say, How do I respond to that? He decided not to.

"Agent Beckeman, the only standard for his release or detention pending trial is whether he is a flight risk or danger to the community, correct?"

"That's what the judge said."

"So you view his exercise of his right of free speech as a danger to the community?"

"The defendant wants to kill a hundred thousand people in two weeks. I think that makes him a danger to the community."

"What has he done?"

"Plotted to blow up Cowboys Stadium."

"How do we know that?"

"You'll know it when that stadium comes down Super Bowl Sunday."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then we got the right guy and prevented an act of terror."

"So if the judge releases him and the stadium comes down, he's the right guy?"

"He is."

"And if the judge doesn't release him, and the stadium doesn't come down, he's the right guy?"

"He is."

"What if the judge releases him and the stadium doesn't come down?"

"Are you willing to take that risk? Or more accurately, are you willing for those one hundred thousands fans inside the stadium on Super Bowl Sunday to take that risk? Is the judge willing to take that risk?"

Was he? America had not suffered a major act of domestic terrorism since 9/11. If the Justice Department, the FBI, and the Department of Homeland Security had anything to say about it, America would never again suffer such a violation. They were good. They were aggressive. They defended America against all enemies, foreign and domestic.

But were they right? Did they have the right man? Was Omar al Mustafa just an American citizen who exercised his right to free speech guaranteed by the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution? Or was he an Islamic jihadist who plotted to kill a hundred thousand Americans? Those were the questions. The answers would be revealed in that courtroom at trial. That was the assignment given U.S. District Judge A. Scott Fenney by the Constitution of the United States of America. But the trial would take place a month after the Super Bowl. A month after the event that could determine the defendant's guilt or innocence. A month after a hundred thousand people might die.

Was Judge A. Scott Fenney willing to take that risk?

"One last question, Agent Beckeman," Frank said. "What if the judge doesn't release Mr. Mustafa, but the stadium still comes down?"

Agent Beckeman glared at the lawyer questioning him; after a long moment, he exhaled and his expression softened. He spoke with an equally soft voice.

"Then I didn't do my job, Mr. Turner. And a lot of people died because I failed."

"No further questions, Your Honor."

Agent Beckeman stepped down from the stand and sat at the prosecution table.

"Any witnesses, Mr. Turner?"

"Yes, Your Honor. Defense calls Omar al Mustafa to the stand."

Frank was like that. He possessed the ability and the balls to shock a courtroom. And everyone in the courtroom was shocked, including the presiding judge and the U.S. Attorney.

"Your Honor, may Mr. Mustafa's shackles be removed for his testimony?"

"Yes."

The detention guard unlocked the shackles. The Imam rubbed his wrists then walked to the witness stand. Louis swore him in.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"As Allah is my witness."

"That's a yes?"

"That is a yes."

"Please sit."

The Imam sat. Frank stood at the podium.

"Mr. Mustafa, have you ever committed a crime?"

"No."

"Nothing? Not even when you were a kid in Chicago? Maybe shoplifting Cheetos at a convenience store, buying beer when you were underage, pumping gas and driving off without paying?"

"No. Never. I was a good boy."

"Are you a good man?"

"I try to follow Allah's path."

"Have you ever traveled outside the U.S.?"

"Yes, when I was a young man, I studied in Jordan."

"Which is an ally of America?"

"The last I heard."

"Do you still have a valid passport?"

"I do not."

"Hard to flee the jurisdiction without a passport?"

"I would think so."

"Do you intend to show up for trial?"

"Of course. I must clear my name."

"Would you agree to wear a GPS monitor?"

"Certainly. I will be at the mosque."

"Do you own any weapons?"

"No."

"No guns, no crossbows, no weapons of mass destruction?"

"No."

"Would you agree not to go to the Cowboys games?"

"Yes. I do not like baseball."

"Football."

"Or that."

Frank turned to Scott. "No further questions, Your Honor."

They held eye contact for a long moment then Frank walked to the defense table and sat down hard. Scott had expected a lengthy direct examination from Frank. Why had Frank not given one? Was he setting up the prosecution? Or was he cutting the direct short before his client confessed ... or committed perjury?

"Mr. Donahue."

Mike Donahue couldn't believe his good fortune. God was smiling on him that day. No way was Mustafa going to testify. But there he sat in the witness stand, legally obligated to answer any question Mike wanted to ask. Any question that might reveal a violent tendency. That might reveal that Omar al Mustafa was in fact the most dangerous man in Dallas. There was only one question: Would he take the bait?

"Mr. Mustafa, you conspired to blow up Cowboys Stadium on Super Bowl Sunday, didn't you?"

"Objection," Frank said in a matter-of-fact tone-he was clearly expecting such a cross-"the prosecutor cannot question the witness on the merits of the case."

"Sustained," Scott said. "Mr. Donahue, please limit your questions to the issues at hand."

"Why?"

"It's the law."

"You allowed the defendant to testify that he was a good boy. Can't we show that he's not such a good boy?"

"You may at trial. Today, show me that he's a flight risk or a danger to the community. Show me something in his life, his character, or his past or present actions that indicates bad acts in the future. Show me how strongly the evidence weighs against him on the charges. Show me something. But don't question the witness on the merits of the case. The law doesn't allow that."

The U.S. Attorney was not happy.

"Mr. Donahue, the defense subpoenaed the attorney general. I denied their request. We are sticking to the issue of detention."

Donahue turned back to the witness. "Mr. Mustafa, are you affiliated with ISIS?"

"No."

Normally, Scott observed the demeanor of the defendant. But now he observed the demeanor of the defendant's counsel. Frank stared down at his hands.

"But your writings and speeches have been printed in the ISIS magazine?"

"Yes."

"Did you give them permission?"

"No."