Life as a Hunted Man
In early January 2026, credible sources in Togo warned David Burger of a new threat: someone connected to the U.S. Embassy in Lomé has put out a hit on Kelvin Blas.
Togolese criminals are actively searching for him.
A veteran of the United States Army, abandoned by his government for six years, is now hiding for his life, hunted by criminals allegedly connected to the very embassy that should have been protecting him all along.
This isn’t speculation. This isn’t paranoia. This is the reality of what happens when a government decides a veteran doesn’t deserve to come home.
Kelvin is in hiding. The threats are active. The danger is real.
And the State Department? Silent. They won’t acknowledge the threat. They won’t provide protection. They close inquiries without explanation and continue to insist this case doesn’t exist. A veteran is being hunted by criminals with alleged embassy connections, and the official response is to pretend there is no case at all.
The Family He Lost
Kelvin’s parents died years ago. His relationship with his sister had ended long before Togo, a fracture that predated any of this, broken for reasons that have nothing to do with six years of abandonment.
The only family he has left is David Burger, a civilian halfway around the world who refused to abandon him when his own government did.
Six years of missing birthdays, holidays, milestones. Six years of being cut off from the life he should have had. Six years of being treated as disposable by the country he served.
Most veterans return home to family, to support systems, to communities that welcome them back. Kelvin hasn’t returned home, because the State Department never let him return at all.
They stonewalled every attempt. Closed every inquiry. Fabricated records to deny his existence. And when civilian advocates stepped in to do what the government wouldn’t, the State Department dismissed them as victims of a scam.
The Broader Cost: Trust Destroyed
Kelvin Blas is not an isolated case. He is a warning.
How many other veterans have been abandoned in foreign countries, dismissed as scams, documented as nonexistent? How many have sought help from embassies only to be turned away? How many have given up entirely, lost to bureaucratic indifference and systematic stonewalling?
The State Department’s treatment of Kelvin Blas sends a clear message to every service member: Your service matters until it becomes inconvenient. Then you’re on your own.
Veterans trust that if they serve their country, their country will stand by them. Kelvin trusted that. He served. He sought help. He followed every procedure, filed every form, made every plea.
And his government fabricated records to deny his existence. They closed FOIAs without explanation. They stonewalled inquiries. They pretended this wasn’t a case. They acted like he was never there.
That trust, once broken, cannot be easily repaired. Not just for Kelvin, but for every veteran watching this case unfold. Every service member who wonders: If this happened to him, could it happen to me?
The Accounting
Six years of financial destruction.
Six years of psychological trauma.
Six years of medical neglect.
Six years of family separation.
Six years of institutional betrayal.
Six years of constant stonewalling.
Six years of FOIAs closed without explanation.
Six years of the State Department pretending this case doesn’t exist.
And now: Active threats against his life. Hiding from criminals allegedly paid by the very government that swore to protect him.
This is not a bureaucratic failure. This is not an administrative oversight. This is systematic abandonment. Documented, deliberate, and devastating.
Six years. No home. No family. No support. And now, hunted by those paid by the very embassy that should have protected him. This is what the United States government did to Kelvin Blas, a veteran of the U.S. Army.
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