FORT HOOD, TEX. – Army Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan sits in a wheelchair every day and listens while, one by one, the wounded and traumatized offer their accounts of 10 minutes of terror. Some bow their heads and weep. Some glower.
Hasan, who is paralyzed from the chest down, stares straight at the witnesses as they describe how he stalked the room on Nov. 5, 2009, the laser sight of his pistol tracing red across their eyes before they felt the shot, smelled the blood, heard the cries.
He didn’t show remorse on that day, the witnesses say. He doesn’t show any remorse now. What he is thinking is unknowable.