Chapter 1
SEAL Team Member Shawn Bryant
Navy lieutenant commander and psychologist Carl Stevens’s ability to evaluate SEAL members had never been strained like this before. He stared at the series of psychological tests that lay before him on the metal desk. He scratched his head, running his fingers over his salt-and-pepper short-cut hair and adjusted his reading glasses, a recent addition to his necessary tools. Shawn Bryant was a psychological puzzle. Stevens was about to conduct his third interview with Second Class Petty Officer Bryant, something that, at this point in his career, he rarely had to do.
Stevens took his job seriously. Even though he was less than a year from retirement, he strove to be sure that his evaluations were accurate and complete. Despite his concern for thoroughness, his direct supervisor was pushing him for a final determination regarding the recent incident that resulted in Bryant’s incarceration. For once, Stevens lacked confidence in his formulation of this case.
By all accounts, Bryant could have post-traumatic stress disorder. He had been behind enemy lines in Afghanistan frequently over the past two years, and he had engaged Taliban insurgents in several firefights, including a few where he lost some of his team members. Based on these experiences, Stevens thought it possible that Bryant had some mild to moderate PTSD, but he was not satisfied that was a complete answer to the reason for the incident.
Bryant was in the Navy’s brig for psychological evaluation because he had severely beaten another team member, a beating that resulted in hospitalization for the other man. This was another factor that puzzled Stevens. In his last interview, Bryant appeared pleasant and polite, if not a little formal. “Yes, sir,” “No, sir” were his most frequent responses. There was a slight element of distance, not exactly coldness, but a hesitance to engage in conversation, not surprising given the nature of his charges, aggravated assault, and possible consequences for his actions.
Stevens sighed, grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil. He left his office and walked down the corridor to a room guarded by two Marine military police officers. When Stevens entered the room, Bryant snapped to attention and stared straight ahead. Stevens casually observed the stony face and recognized it for what it was—a sign of respect, a reflection of his training, but also a way to maintain a wall between himself and the interviewer. Almost as if Stevens was the enemy.
Stevens scanned Bryant’s facial affect, body language, and any unusual attire Bryant might exhibit and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He automatically recorded Bryant’s close-cropped sandy hair, his clean-shaven face, and the stern jawline. He also recalled that he had a beard and long hair when he was arrested. Bryant was tall. His file said six feet three inches, with a slender but well-muscled build. Surprising to some, he was larger than the average SEAL member. According to his file, he weighed 223 pounds.
The military police had provided Stevens with Bryant’s military history, a summary of his training, assignments, and behavior as a SEAL. The MP administrator had also provided him with a summary of the incident and the victim’s statement. That statement was compromised because the victim of Bryant’s violence had a broken jaw and was unable to speak. When the victim was initially interrogated, he tried to speak, but ended up nodding to questions put to him because of the pain. But some evidence was available, mostly collateral testimony from other witnesses.
Based on reports from fellow SEAL team members, Bryant was an extremely efficient and dependable teammate. His record noted several acts of heroism, including seemingly single-handed rescue of five team members surrounded by a large group of Taliban fighters. Bryant had come from behind the enemy and dispatched several before the Taliban knew they were being attacked. The subsequent battle left two wounded SEAL members and several wounded and dead Taliban fighters. The Taliban quickly withdrew, suspecting a much larger force had circumvented their perimeter. Bryant had reinforced this perception by moving regularly and quickly between his shots at the enemy. Bryant was one of the wounded. During the firefight, Bryant was hit by returned fire, and it left an entry and exit wound in his left shoulder. Sometime later, Bryant was recommended for a Silver Star medal, but his reluctance to receive this award resulted in a general team commendation.
This was not the profile of a problem SEAL. In fact, the victim fit that description much more closely. His personnel file suggested someone who frequently pushed the boundaries of authority, and his team members indicated that Casey Lawrence, the victim, was not a reliable SEAL. Some even went so far as to say that they thought he got what he deserved.
Commander Stevens knew he would have to go beyond the background report and the test results to determine the reason for Bryant’s attack on Casey Lawrence. In general, the test ruled out any significant form of mental illness that would explain his actions. Based on a test designed to lower dropout rates in SEAL training, Bryant scored more toward introversion and very high on conscientiousness. The introversion was not low enough to flag as a possible problem, and he sailed through the training program. One test administered subsequent to the incident did suggest that Bryant had a mild to moderate level of PTSD, but this might be found in most SEAL team members if they were truthful. It was suggested in the inventory that Bryant was faking his emotional status to show more positive than it was. This suggested that the level of PTSD was higher than the inventory would indicate. But until now, there was no behavior that suggested he had a problem. Stevens believed he needed to dig a little deeper into the incident from Bryant’s perspective.
From what he could ascertain about the incident, Bryant had befriended a stray dog, and when the other SEAL team member first kicked the dog and then shot it, killing it, Bryant had screamed obscenities at the other SEAL, and then the two began to fight. Both being well trained in the art of combat, the fight was ferocious. When the other SEAL felt he was losing, he pulled a knife. Bryant’s response was swift and efficient. The victim was the smaller of the two, but that did not necessarily mean an easy victory.
Bryant was enraged, according to witnesses. At the same time, he had learned how to focus his emotions to enhance his effectiveness at fighting. In this case, his opponent was completely overcome. Part of the problem facing the investigation was that Bryant didn’t stop his pummeling once the outcome was clear. This was a complete violation of all written and unwritten codes of conduct among SEAL team members. He had to be pulled off his victim, or he would be facing murder charges.
Commander Stevens sat down at the table in the center of the room and began to arrange the paperwork in front of him. Once he was satisfied, he looked up at Bryant and nodded.
“Have a seat, Petty Officer Bryant.”
“Yes, sir!
Bryant sat across from the commander and continued to stare straight ahead. From Stevens’s perspective, Bryant’s rigid affect interfered with his ability to assess Bryant’s reactions to his questions. It was important to encourage Bryant to relax.
“At ease, Bryant.”
“Yes, sir.”
Stevens studied Bryant’s face for changes. His sandy hair framed an oval deeply tanned face and dark-brown eyes. Bryant’s eye contact seemed better, but his impassive stare hid any other information. Stevens knew he would have to be satisfied with formal and self-protecting behavior unless he could get Bryant to relax his guard. He decided to take a less-formal approach himself. Maybe that would help Bryant feel less defensive. After reviewing the purpose of the interview and making sure Bryant understood the nature of the interview, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and his chin resting on his clasped hands.
Stevens said, “That dog must have meant a lot to you.”
Stevens watched for
