“In the silence there is truth.”
Taped to the front door of my 14X70 mobile home was a black card with a Spartan helmet on it. These words were printed on the back and sent a chill down my spine. I read the words again. My memories are stirred by this small phrase, but I failed to put it together. “Where have I heard this before?”
I opened the door and stepped cautiously inside. Everything appeared to be just as I left it, nothing was out of place. I walked over to the couch and lifted one of the cushions, my weapon was still under it. As I lifted the weapon and slipped the magazine out, there was a knock at the door.
“Yeah? Who is it?”
“Agents Dynar and Fitzgerald. We are with the FBI. May we come in?”
“No, I will come out.”
It was three steps to the front door, so I cracked open the door and peered out. Sure enough, two agents stood out in the yard, their blue jackets sported the yellow letters FBI on the back. I walked down the concrete steps and gave them a smile.
“What can I do for the FBI?”
A tall blonde with frizzy hair extended her hand.
“Mr. Freeman? I am Agent Fitzgerald; this is my partner Agent Dynar. We have some questions concerning your service from 2008-2010.”
“That’s a pretty specific block of time, what do you want to know?”
“Where were you during that timeframe?”
“I was on the move constantly. Europe, the Middle East, back home to the States, why?”
Agent Dynar had sipped at his chocolate milkshake and interrupted our conversation with his attempt to get every drop out. He wiped at his moustache and belched.
“You country folk know how to make some serious grub. Do you know this man?”
He handed me a photo; it was of a friend from my time in Europe.
“Yeah. His name is Thom Hurst. We served together in Europe.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“No. I rarely hear from anyone I served with in Europe, why?”
“If you hear from him, we would like you to contact us. Here is our card. Thank you in advance for your help.”
Agents Dynar and Fitzgerald walked to their rental car and left. I stood alone out in my squared off yard and watched them disappear. “What in the world is going on?” I made my way back inside and looked at the phrase.
“In the silence there is truth.”
Well into the evening, I pondered these words. Enlightenment did not come from my ponderance, so I took a Tylenol PM and laid down on the couch. The new Star Wars movie was out, so I purchased it and watched it until sleep took me.
I slept soundly until I felt another presence in my room. Slivers of light beamed through the cracks of my blinds, and I slipped my hand under the cushion for my handgun. It was gone.
“You want this, brother? He asked, while waving the gun around. “I haven’t seen you in years. Surely, you aren’t still angry after all this time.”
Thom Hurst smiled as he handed the weapon back to me. He looked the same as he did when I left the military. He stood over six feet tall, broad in the shoulders and back, he appeared to have the world in the palm of his hand. His presence was as powerful as his build.
“Come on, Freeman. Let’s grab some coffee and catch up.”
I nodded my head and yawned. Slowly, I followed him to the kitchen.
“You know, Thom, the FBI was out here yesterday asking me about you. What have you done now?”
“Oh, you know, bent the rules and made some money.”
“Bent the rules how, and why did you leave the team’s phrase on my door?”