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Chapter 16 - No More Special Access

 

The command's final administrative review found that Homefront Passage had received privileged access to separation briefings without adequate checks on the claims used to market its services. The company would not be invited back under the existing arrangement. Its ability to operate elsewhere was not something the Army could decide at that meeting.

The command also referred relevant financial and representation concerns to the proper civilian authorities. Those investigators would determine what, if anything, justified enforcement or charges. Neither an angry captain nor an embarrassed sergeant major could order an arrest.

In a private meeting, Warren protested that innocent employees were being punished. Major Shah replied that the command had weighed that concern but could not use soldiers' trust to guarantee a private firm's customers.

Crane did not speak for Warren. The senior enlisted leader who once introduced him as a benefactor kept his hands on the table.

Outside, Tasha Bell distributed contact information for accredited, free veterans assistance services to customers who had asked for help. She was searching for another job. She had no assurance that speaking up would make her life easier.

Noah attended the announcement with Denise. They understood a base-access decision would not automatically restore their money. Still, no other young soldier would sit through that particular sales presentation believing the company had the command's special blessing.

Later that evening Denise received confirmation that a portion of the enrollment fee had been refunded under an interim agreement. The remaining balance was being contested. The earlier bank credit was no longer merely provisional for the two smaller charges.

She opened a notebook and wrote the amounts down. Then, on the same page, she listed the dates Noah had eaten with her that month, the days she had slept through the night, and the afternoons she had walked outside without checking her phone.

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The financial record mattered. So did the record of a life slowly returning.

When she finally called Maya, she said, “I don't want an investigator. I'd like my son's old platoon leader to come over for coffee.”

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