Renee Ryan - Homecoming Hero

“I’ll be back. I just need a moment. I need…” Air.

“I—” She cut herself off and then gave him a short nod. “Okay.”

The woman was certainly playing nice. Wolf appreciated that, until she gave him “the look.” The one people sent him in airports and other public places. That insulting mix of hero worship, horror and sympathy.

Wolf hadn’t expected that from Hailey.

Oddly disappointed, he rose and stalked toward the back of the room. He had a bead on that bright red exit sign and nothing was going to stop him from leaving.

He stepped out of the room without incident. Unfortunately, he was able to enjoy only three minutes of freedom before J.T. had the bad manners to join him.

Well, all right. Good. Wolf had a few things he wanted to say to the pastor.

“What’s up, Wolf?”

Straight to the point. This was Wolf’s kind of conversation. “Those people in there. They aren’t telling the whole story.”

“What are they missing?” J.T. sounded clearly confused.

“Don’t tell me you really send people onto the mission field that unprepared.” Talk about blind faith. Even Joshua had dispatched spies into the Holy Land before engaging in battle.

“What do you mean by unprepared, exactly?”

All right. Maybe Wolf was wrong. Maybe he’d jumped to conclusions. Maybe the real presentation happened later. “What sort of training do you give your missionaries before they leave the country?”

“Training? Oh, you mean preparation.” J.T. nodded in understanding. “Not to worry, Wolf. We don’t send anyone into a foreign country without putting them through an extensive application process.”

Application process? Sounded sketchy to him. “What does that involve, exactly?”

Clearly unhappy with Wolf’s sarcasm, J.T.’s lips flattened. “The usual stuff.”

Right. “Let’s pretend I don’t know what that is.”

J.T. spoke slowly, patiently, as if he were talking to an imbecile. Which they both knew Wolf was not. “We make sure they have a heart for God and a love of His Word. That they understand their job is to plant seeds through relationships. You know, that sort of stuff.”

Now Wolf was insulted. “What about general knowledge of the region, the terrain, the culture? What about basic survival skills?”

J.T. looked at him oddly. “We have classes. They learn how to speak to the unchurched and how to build relationships through common ground.” He was so cool, so in control.

So full of it.

“What about when things go wrong? Are they prepared for that?” Wolf frowned. “I know all about the random kidnappings and ransoms and…worse.”

“There are always safety issues,” J.T. admitted. “But we aren’t naive or stupid. We don’t send our people into the field alone. There’s always a seasoned missionary from that region who guides them along the way, a person who knows the terrain and the culture and, yes.” He held up a hand to stave off Wolf’s argument. “That includes teaching them which areas are safe and which ones to avoid.”

“What do you mean by ‘seasoned’? As in a former soldier, or a cop or even someone who knows how to defend himself properly, someone who hasn’t spent his entire life in country clubs?”

“Ah, I get it now.” J.T. nodded sagely. “You’re worried about Hailey going to the Middle East.”

“Ya think?” Wolf wiped a hand across his mouth, determined to keep his temper in check. “The question is, why aren’t you more concerned? I know you’re former military, so don’t bother denying it.”

“Hadn’t planned on it.”

“Were you ever in Iraq?”

“I was there.” J.T.’s voice came out flat, unemotional. Hard. “Three times. Afghanistan, six.”

Nine deployments to the Middle East? Not possible. For regular Army, anyway. Which meant only one thing. J.T. had been Special Forces.

Now the guy’s behavior really confused Wolf. “If you’ve been over there that many times, you gotta know how dangerous it is to send someone like Hailey into the region unprepared.”

J.T. remained silent. Wolf could almost see the thoughts running through his head. The sorting, sifting, measuring.

Wolf waited, mainly because he could tell that whatever conclusion J.T. was coming to, the guy wasn’t happy about it.

About time.

“Okay, Wolf, maybe you’re right. What Hailey and the others on her team are gearing up to do is beyond our usual scope here at Faith Community Church.” The admission came hard, if his tight lips and stiff tone were anything to go by.

Wolf let out a relieved breath of air. “So you’ll help me discourage Hailey from going to the Middle East.”

“No.”

And they were right back where they’d started.

“But you just said I was right.”

“I said maybe you’re right.”

Semantics? The guy was arguing over word choice?

“There are some things we have to leave up to God,” J.T. added, his tone full of conviction. “We have to trust that His plans are bigger than ours and that His timing is always perfect.”

“Now you’re talking in platitudes?” Wolf expected better from a former Green Beret. At least a little more realism.

“Not platitudes. Truth. We haven’t lost a missionary yet. Not on my watch.”

Before Wolf could challenge him on that shortsighted rationalization, J.T. went back to thinking. He scratched his chin, but this time not a single emotion crossed his face.

At last he dropped his hand to his side. “I admit you make a good point. Sending missionaries into long-term assignments might require more than the usual preparation.”

“Might?”

J.T.’s eyes narrowed in thoughtful consideration. “We could start with a series of classes on basic survival techniques and see where that leads us.”

Okay. They were getting closer to the same page.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Wolf admitted reluctantly. Very reluctantly. After all, what J.T. suggested didn’t solve Wolf’s immediate problem—keeping Hailey out of the Middle East.

“And I think you’d be the perfect person to teach the class.”

“Me?” Wolf’s heart stopped a beat, and in that single instant he experienced all the pain, guilt and regret of the past six months.

He could not, would not—no, no, no—teach any class inside a church. It was hard enough to be here today. He could not walk into this building on a regular basis.

He wasn’t that much of a hypocrite.

“You’re the pastor, J.T. Shouldn’t you teach the class?”

J.T. dismissed the suggestion with a flick of his wrist. “An active-duty soldier would be better.” His lips curved at a shrewd angle. “And it might be just what you need, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Although, Wolf wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“It would be a chance for you to give back. And who knows, serving others might help you with your guilt.”

Wolf’s shoulders stiffened. “Who said anything about guilt?”

J.T. simply blinked at him, his gaze saying, It’s right there, soldier. In your eyes.

Wolf looked away from all that wisdom and understanding. He didn’t want an ally. Or a friend. His friends were dead.

And Wolf’s guilt was something he had to bear alone, every day, over and over. No amount of churchgoing or talking or serving others would erase his failure on that Iraqi roadside.

But maybe—just maybe—teaching a survival class to a room full of out-of-touch idealists could serve the one goal Wolf might actually be able to achieve.

If he did his job correctly, with just the right spin, he could prove to Hailey how unprepared she was for a trip to the Sandpit.

“All right, J.T. I’ll teach your class on basic survival skills, but only if Hailey signs up.”