After my third deployment, my wife filed for divorce. «I’ve met someone better,» she said …
And I believe he’s connected to the very networks we’ve been tracking here. Holy shit, Roy. That would mean.
That would mean this isn’t just about a cheating wife. It’s a matter of national security.
The Enemy Within Roy requested emergency leave two weeks before his scheduled return, citing a family crisis.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Donovan, you’ve got 30 days, Colonel Barrett informed him. But given what you’ve shared about potential domestic security concerns, I’m authorizing continued access to certain resources.
This stays off book. Understood, sir. Thank you.
And Roy, the colonel added, his voice softening slightly. Whatever your wife’s involvement, willing or unwitting, remember your training. Gather facts, verify, then act.
Don’t let emotion cloud your judgment. Roy landed at Dulles International at 3.42 p.m. on a rainy Tuesday. He didn’t call Bridget.
Instead, he checked into a motel 20 miles from home and established his operational base. The next 48 hours were spent conducting physical surveillance, placing additional monitoring devices, and coordinating with trusted military contacts. What he discovered confirmed his worst fears.
Harry Wexler was actually Pavel Reznik, a mid-level operator for an international organization specializing in stealing military intelligence. His technique was simple but effective. Identify military personnel with high security clearances, research their family situations, then target vulnerable spouses during deployments.
Roy wasn’t the first. Three other servicemen had been similarly targeted in the past five years, each ending in divorce where the operative maintained a relationship with the ex-wife to maintain proximity to the children. Children who might innocently reveal information overheard from their fathers.
On the third day, Roy finally went home, timing his arrival for when school records indicated the children would be there but Bridget would still be at her part-time administrative job. Max opened the door, his eyes widening in shock before he launched himself into his father’s arms. Dad, you’re early.
Surprise deployment change. Roy lied smoothly, hugging his son tightly. Where’s your sister? Daddy.
Lily came tearing down the stairs, nearly tackling Roy with the force of her embrace. Her eyes were wet with tears. I missed you so much.
For a moment, Roy allowed himself to simply be a father reuniting with his children. They talked excitedly over each other, showing him school projects and telling stories while he made them snacks in the kitchen. A kitchen where he’d watch Bridget and Perry prepare intimate dinners via security camera.
Hey, have you met mom’s friend Mr. Perry? Max asked innocently. He comes over a lot. He’s teaching me how to throw a curveball.
Roy maintained his smile with military discipline. Is that right? What else does Mr. Perry do when he visits? The children’s innocent answers confirmed everything. Perry had been systematically building relationships with them, asking casual questions about Roy’s work, deployments, even the security systems he used.
Daddy, are you okay? Lily asked, noticing his expression had hardened. Roy forced his features to soften. Just tired from the flight, sweetheart? He checked his watch.
Listen, I have a surprise. How about we go get ice cream before mom gets home? I want to hear all about school. He took the children for ice cream, then to a movie, documenting their time together with photos and videos.
When they returned home, Bridget’s car was in the driveway alongside an unfamiliar Audi. Whose car is that? Roy asked casually. That’s Mr. Perry’s, Lily said.
He must be helping mom with the broken shower again. Roy’s jaw tightened momentarily before he relaxed it. Why don’t you two go play in the backyard for a few minutes? I want a surprise, mom.
He entered his house silently, his years of tactical training evident in his movements. He heard them before he saw them. Bridget’s laughter from the kitchen, a man’s murmured response.
Roy recorded video on his phone as he approached. The separation agreement looks good, Perry was saying. Once it’s filed, we move for full custody based on his prolonged absences and the psychological impact of his work.
The military doesn’t fight these things, bad PR. And the house? Bridget asked. As long as we can show you need it for the children’s stability, it’s practically guaranteed.
Military courts are predictable that way. Roy stepped into the kitchen doorway. Is that right? The look of shock on Bridget’s face would have been satisfying if the situation weren’t so grave.
Perry recovered more quickly, extending his hand with a practiced smile. You must be Roy. I’ve heard so much about you.
Perry Wexler. Roy ignored the outstretched hand. Interesting.
I’ve heard quite a bit about you too, Pavel. Perry’s smile faltered for just a microsecond, long enough for Roy to know he’d hit the mark. Roy, why didn’t you call? Bridget stammered.
Perry is just a friend who’s been helping with home repairs while you were away. Is that what you call it? Roy’s voice remained eerily calm. The children are outside.
We’re going to have a civilized conversation in front of them. Then I’m taking them to dinner. And when we return, I expect you both to be gone.
This is my house, Bridget protested. Technically, it’s our house, Roy corrected her. And I have significant evidence that might interest both military intelligence and the FBI regarding your friends’ activities.
Perry’s eyes narrowed. You’re confused, soldier. Jet lag can do that.
Three deployments, 14 years of service, and specialized intelligence training can also do interesting things, Roy replied evenly. Like teach you how to recognize patterns. How to trace financial transactions.
How to connect dots. He turned to Bridget. File for divorce if you want.
That’s your right. But understand what you’re involved with before you go further. Are you threatening me? Bridget demanded…