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A child’s laughter snaps me out of my daydream, or rather, my nightmare. I glance subtly around the library to make sure no one is looking in my direction, confirming that things are just as they were before I zoned out.
My hands press the book closed, only making it through page two. It doesn’t matter. Reading it was only a ruse. Which is good since I can’t stop my mind from wandering to things that I’d rather forget.
My watch vibrates, signaling it’s time to make my way into the group room for ‘Coffee with Veterans.’ After placing my book back on its designated shelf, I stroll into the meeting with as much steel in my spine as I can. I don’t want to look eager to be here.
There are only five others in the room as I make my way to my seat. The plastic blue desk chair sits in a circle of about fifteen, though they’re never all filled.
Dennis, the moderator of the group, rolls in the cart with the coffee pot and Styrofoam cups just as two more guys enter the room from the outside door. It makes me nervous that this room is accessible from two points, but I do my best not to flinch every time someone pushes through the door unexpectedly.
“All right boys.” Dennis claps his hands. “Go ahead and get ya some joe then we’ll get started.”
Continuing to do my best to blend in, I pour a cup of shitty coffee and I’ll make sure to finish every drop even though I know it sits like a rock in my gut.
A young guy sneaks in from the outside door just as I’m sitting back down. With his shoulders slumped and his hood up, he gives the impression of someone who is hiding. Only I know that he actually is in hiding. Curtis Debaugh. 21 years old. Currently AWOL from the United States Army. My target.
“Thank you all for coming today, I’m glad to see each one of you. And I am glad for those of you who have returned again and again,” Dennis interrupts my thoughts to start the meeting.
He’s a nice old man. Retired from the Navy. His pot belly threatens to bust the buttons on every shirt he wears but he’s so welcoming that I almost feel guilty being here under false pretenses.
The truth is that I am not a veteran. I am active duty military, currently as a Special Investigator. I’ve been in this gig for about nine months, but this is only my third investigation.
It’s odd. I was used to completing missions within a couple of days and always on foreign soil. The change of pace and location has been an adjustment.
I’m not strapped down with a vest and my firearms, I’m not surrounded by my team, I’m just pretending to be a regular dude.
The undercover unit they pegged me for is a hard unit to fill. Most guys can’t commit to the time it takes to complete an investigation. It doesn’t bother me though. Probably because I have nothing to look forward to. No family to go home to. No ties.
When my best friend quit the Army last year it shocked the hell out of me. I understood why he did it, but it threw me for a loop nonetheless. Staying in our old Special Forces unit without him put a bad feeling in my gut. I was worried that going back into the field without my battle buddy would mean the end of the road for me.
Everyone has each other’s backs, but he and I were different. We started as a pair in Special Ops school and it only seemed right to quit when he quit, but the military is all I have. One day, I hope to be white-haired and retired like Dennis, running support groups for fun.
“Who would like to share first?” Dennis claps his hands together, signaling the beginning of our introductions and reason for being here. As usual, the older man to his right begins, Frankie is his name. I tune him out, not needing to pay attention. I’ve heard his story before.
Instead, I eyeball Curtis. He’s still receded into himself, hardly lifting his head enough to make it look like he’s awake. I know he’s troubled. Hell, he’s still a kid. Unfortunately, he’s made bad choices, and that’s why I’m here.
The Special Investigators handling his AWOL case found him pretty quickly. The kid grew up about thirty minutes outside of New Hope. So, it’s no surprise he’d end up back here eventually. The problem was with what they found while investigating him.
Curtis has been corresponding with domestic extremist groups online. Not only did he leave the military without permission, he’s now become an adversary of the United States government.
My job is to find out how deep his involvement goes and anything else I can about the extremist group that he seems to be linked to within this area. Whether they are legitimate or if they have any plans to cause harm to others.
“Jay, you’re up,” Dennis states, gesturing to me. Jay is my undercover name. Not very creative, but close enough to my actual name that it’s hard to fuck up.
“I’m Jay. I’m here because I am struggling to adjust back to civilian life after being injured in combat.” I have been injured in combat, it’s not a complete lie. My training made it clear to always stick to as close to the truth as possible.
“I feel like the Army just shipped me back home and left me to suffer by myself. So, I’m here.” I finish my introduction with as little flourish as possible, remaining stoic and pissed off to the outside eye.
My plan is to use my disgruntlement to lure Curtis into trusting me. From the way he’s studying me as I peer around the room, I think it might be working.
“Alright, folks. Let’s talk about it.” Dennis advances into the meeting offering advice and services to look into for support. He really is a great guy. When this is all over, I’d love to have a genuine conversation with him as myself, Jesse. Not as Jay.
One week later…
“Hey, man. I’m going to the bar with a couple of buddies tonight. Would you want to come?” Curtis asks after our meeting concludes. I try not to let my satisfaction show that my plan is working. “I mean if you don’t want to, it’s cool. Just thought I’d ask since we’ve both been coming to this dumb meeting for a while now.”
He’s nervous. He’s young. Desperately seeking friendship or comradery from anyone.
