The General's Mistress

"What have you done?!" She said.

"I've already sent your emails to Mrs. Peterson, too. She'll probably be filing for Divorce on Monday, unless she's ok with him cheating on her." I gave her a more benign smile at that. "Tell me, Paula. Did she or I deserve what you and your Asshole boyfriend did to us?"

But she had stopped listening, and was on the phone immediately. "Yes, it's me. John knows. He's already sent the emails to your wife! I know! What are you going to do about it? Ok, fine." She smiled at me as she hung up.

"Let me guess. I'm fired? No big surprise there." I smiled back.

"Worse than that, traitor." She smiled triumphantly at me. She was still unaware that her phone conversations were still being recorded. No problem, there. I would have it tomorrow night at midnight. But she didn't need to know that yet.

"Traitor? Me? You two are the ones putting National Security at risk." I shot back. "The Director of the CIA, having an affair with the wife of one of his subordinates. Do you even realize what would happen if a hostile foreign power found out about that? Do you realize that you, I, or even General David Douchebag could be compromised? With everything out in the open, at least there won't be any blackmail to make you do what they want!"

Paula's face paled at that. Yeah, cheaters NEVER plan for Worst Case Scenarios. I walked over to where my gym bag was, and picked it up. "While you think about how you've ruined our marriage, your career, your lover's career, and how you nearly caused a breach in this country's security, Paula, also think about the pain you've caused me, Mrs. Peterson, and their children. At least we don't have kids."

With those words, I left her sobbing as I left the house and walked out to my '79 Camaro Z-28. The red paint with the twin racing stripes down the length of the body was still my baby. My dad had helped me restore the classic sports car back when I was in High School. He'd bought me the body for my 14th Birthday, and by the time I was 16, we had it fully restored. The first time I drove it after getting my license, I was pulled over for speeding. The cop let me off with a warning, and I took that warning to heart. I slowed the hell down, until I could be sure that no cops or traffic cameras were around.

I tossed my gym bag into the back seat, started the powerful 327 V-8, and peeled out of the driveway. I'd backed in for a quick getaway, and enjoyed squealing the tires as I gunned the engine.

In my bag were several changes of clothes, some personal items, and my Colt M1911-A1 .45 ACP pistol. I love my grandpa's old service weapon. It's had a couple pieces replaced over the years, but it's still in perfect working order with the original barrel, grips, trigger, hammer, and slide.

I made it 15 miles toward my safe house before they found me. I saw the black SUVs in my rearview as they closed with me quickly. I gunned the powerful small block and watched the needle climb to over 120 MPH. I couldn't resist the grin that split my face as I drove like a bat out of hell, leaving those SUVs in the dust.

No, the main problem wasn't the FBI assholes behind me, it was the FBI chopper pacing me and keeping its fuckin' spotlight on me as I drove. So when I pulled over to the side of the road, got out, grabbed my pistol and started squeezing off rounds at the bird, it veered away. I saw, much to my surprise, the spotlight shatter from probably the luckiest shot in history. I couldn't help but laugh at that, and got back in my car as I heard the SUVs trying to catch up. I gunned it again, put on my Night Vision goggles, and cut the lights on my Camaro.

75 miles later, I pulled off the road onto a dirt road that led to my safe house.

Now, to clarify a few things, the CIA has NO jurisdiction to operate within the United States of America. In fact, it's illegal for the CIA to do so. Ok. And if you believe that the CIA doesn't operate within the United States of America, just because it's illegal, you really do need to get your head out of your ass. Thus endeth the lesson.

With that in mind, I had... appropriated an old CIA black site in rural Virginia to use as my safe house. It looked like an old farmhouse, dilapidated and crumbling. The farmhouse itself was supposedly once a stop along the Underground Railroad before and during the Civil War. Once I had the codes for the site, I deleted it from the CIA registry. That was one of the things I had done to plan for this contingency.

Being Director of the CIA, General David Peterson had vast resources at his beck and call. Basically, he could call upon all branches of Homeland Security if he needed them. Well, with me on the loose with a LOT of evidence that could end his career, he figured he needed them.

When I had sent the emails to Diana Peterson, I sent them from my main email account. My dummy account was still clean. I sent Talisa an email to her new dummy account, letting her know where I was. I know the old adage "Trust No One". But that doesn't go very far, really. I had to trust someone, and the ONLY one I could trust was Talisa Martin.

I then sent, from a coffee shop in a nearby town and from a second dummy account, the emails that General Peterson and Paula Blakely had sent back and forth. I had grown my beard out some, and wore a hat and dark sunglasses. Spy Disguise 101.

Where did I send them? Every major News Network, and even FOX News.

I also sent recordings of the conversation Paula had with Asshole, the night I discovered what they had been doing. I was now the subject of a worldwide manhunt being conducted by the CIA, FBI, and NSA. My Camaro was safely hidden in the underground garage back at the black site. I was riding an old Harley Panhead that I had found in the underground garage. With my new scraggly look, the bike fit me better than it would have before.

Talisa kept me apprised of developments on the home front. She said that Asshole had talked his wife out of Divorce for the time being, and so far, none of the News Networks had run my evidence. Even FOX News was holding back for some odd reason. She used her burner phone, and I used mine. We were pretty well untraceable, that is unless the NSA had voice recognition software going, which they probably did. In a great show of solidarity, all of my IT team had resigned upon hearing about what happened, and because I had forwarded all the emails to them as well. Once they heard that I was the subject of a manhunt, they decided that they would go into business for themselves. Good men and women, all of them!

It was a few weeks in, and I still had enough canned rations to last me another five years, when Talisa showed up at the safe house.

She showed up unannounced, so when she opened the door into the bunker from the underground garage, she found herself staring down the barrel of a .45 that I held.

"Ok, ok! I take it you don't like visitors?" She squeaked.

I dropped the weapon to my side. "Dammit, Tali! You could have called ahead first!" I growled, then chuckled.

She threw herself into my arms, hugging me tight. "Sorry, John. I didn't want to take the chance of the NSA tracing my call to you."

"What about tails? You know you were probably followed, right?" I said.

"I lost them." She replied with a self-satisfied smirk. She then leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "You need a shave."

"I'll shave when I don't need to live on the lam anymore." I smirked back. "What brings you by?" I asked finally.

"I just wanted to see you and make sure you're ok." She said as she let me go and followed me into the living room. We sat on the couch together and I looked at her. God, she's gorgeous!

"That can't be the only reason. What's going on back at the camp?" I asked, referring to Langley.

"Shit, shit, and more shit." She rolled her eyes. "The main News networks are FINALLY investigating your claims and evidence, though. So far, your fugitive status has been kept from the Press, which is both good and bad."

"Good because they aren't using the News to get my picture out to find me, and bad because once word got out, they would HAVE to take my evidence seriously." I nodded my understanding.

"What are you going to do?" She asked. I really didn't have any idea anymore, to be honest. I could wait it out, and see how long it took the Asshole to finally try to get the local law enforcement to look for me. Or I could force the issue and head up to New York and make a surprise appearance on the Today Show.

No, that would be too risky. The News people had my photo, and that I wasn't available for comment, but nothing on the manhunt that was being conducted by Homeland Security. I was simply If I was cornered on some lonely stretch of road, they could make me disappear real quick. I needed something that was a sure thing.

I looked at her and smiled. "I'm going to cut the head off the snake."

Her mouth opened in shock. "John, you can't!" She gasped. "If you kill him..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head.

"Tali, do you trust me?" I asked, looking her in the eyes.

"Of course I do." She nodded once.

"Then trust me now." I said, and took her in my arms. She tilted her chin up and our lips met in the most sensual kiss I've ever had with any woman in my life. Our tongues danced together as her arms came up and encircled my neck.

She moaned into my mouth as we kissed passionately. She didn't feel the needle that I pushed into her voluptuous derriere, but the tranquilizer took effect immediately.

"Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I have to do, you can't be a part of." I whispered as I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. I laid her out on the bed, and checked her pulse to make sure I didn't give her too much. She was breathing regularly, and her heartbeat was strong. Good. I smiled and kissed her lips tenderly, then I walked out.

Now I felt like Rick in Casablanca. Walking out on a woman who truly loved me. I felt like shit, but I didn't want her caught in the crossfire.

I grabbed some weapons and ammo from the arsenal inside the bunker, as well as two sets of handcuffs. I had test fired some of the 9mm ammo with the UZI and HK-MP5 Supressed. It was still in decent condition, with no misfires. They would do if needed. I chose the suppressed MP5 SMG, and loaded up my Colt with some .45 ACP rounds. I holstered my weapon, slung the MP5, and walked out to the underground garage. I debated taking the Harley, but I would definitely be pulled over if they saw the HK slung on my back. I could also take Talisa's car, but decided against that too. I didn't want anything I did tonight to come back on her.

So I opted for my trusty Camaro. I figured that if I died tonight, or if I was captured, I would at least have one last drive to remember. I smiled as I opened the door and tossed the SMG onto the passenger seat. I buckled up, started her up, and listened to the rumbling purr of the engine as it begged me to let the horses run. I hit the garage door opener and drove up the ramp and out into the dusk of central Virginia. I put on my NVGs again and ran dark as I opened her up full.

I made one call from my burner phone before I got to my destination. I identified myself and said that all would be made clear if they met me at a certain address.

Soon I was in General Peterson's neighborhood, and pulled up in front of his house. I parked crossways behind Paula's car in front of the garage. No matter which car tried to leave, it would have to run over mine to get out. Paula was here, too! That just made what I had planned even better!

I grabbed the HK and made my way quickly up to the front door. I rang the bell and waited with the SMG at the ready.

Diana answered the door and gasped. I put my finger to my lips in the universal shush gesture, and she just nodded, her eyes wide with shock.

I entered and she backed up a bit with her hands raised. I leaned forward and whispered to her. "Diana, you have nothing to worry about. You're the only innocent one here." I nodded and gave her a smile. "I'm not going to kill anyone if I can help it. Ok?"

She gulped and nodded. "I guess so." She said.

"Ma'am, you just have to trust me. I'm not going to kill either of them, but they've been cheating on us for quite a while." I said in a serious tone.

She nodded again and gave me a nervous smile. I slipped my left hand into my pocket and started the recorder going. I motioned for Diana to precede me into the living room where Douchebag and Slut were sitting. He smiled at her when she walked in ahead of me, but the smile froze and disappeared when he saw my ragged appearance and the firepower I was holding.

"The traitor himself!" He shouted, but I leveled my weapon at him before he could rise.

"Is that what you told your loving wife, Asshole?" I growled. "That my proof of your adultery was nothing more than me trying to undermine national security?"

Paula paled, having heard what I said to her the night I left home. "We... we can explain, baby!" She wheedled.

"No you can't explain, bitch! If ANYONE is a traitor here, it's you two!" I spat out. "Now, strip!" I shouted in my best command voice.

General Peterson looked like he wasn't going to comply, so I shot the phone between them before he could react. The suppressed MP5 made a PUFF sound as the bullet destroyed the house phone. Paula was already stripping her clothes off, and the General was complying as well.

"Wow, Paula! You must not have been cheating on me because of cock size!" I laughed harshly at the General, who was a good solid 2 inches soft. He would get to maybe 5 hard if he was lucky!

Paula blushed and looked away in shame. But even naked and scared, she was still a gorgeous woman. Well, soon the entire world would see just how gorgeous she was naked.

"What are you going to do?" Diana asked.

"Well, I think that they need to be humiliated somewhat. Don't you agree?" I asked with a smile.

"Actually, I think I do agree. I noticed that neither one of them tried to deny the affair when confronted with it directly." Diana had a smirk on her face as she looked at her naked hubby. "You bastard! I hope you get fired for this!" She sneered at his littleness. "Like you ever kept me satisfied with that little thing!"

I had to grin at that one. Knock him down a few pegs. Good job Diana!

"Now, what happens next depends on you telling me the truth. Since we know for a fact that the affair has been happening, I'm going to ask a series of questions. Your honesty is going to decide your fate. Just know that I've learned a LOT more than you might think over the last several weeks." I smiled, giving them my best bluff.

They nodded their understanding, and Diana went over and slapped her husband across the face. He took it, since I had trained my weapon on his head. He glared at me.

"Oh no, sir. Don't glare at me like that. You and my slut of a soon-to-be ex-wife brought this on yourselves! You tried to use me as a scapegoat when I got the goods on you, just so you wouldn't be seen as a threat to National Security. Right?" I said.

"It wasn't supposed to be that way, son." Douchewad said.

"Don't you dare call me son." I growled, aiming once again at his head. "How was it supposed to be, then? Care to enlighten me?"

"You were never supposed to find out." He said evenly.

"Of course, I wasn't. Just out of curiosity, how long have you two been fucking?" I asked, all pretense of civility dropped.

"4 years." Paula said sheepishly.

"Since your first trip to Afghanistan." I confirmed, and she nodded.

"Yes. I'm so sorry, John." She said with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Sorry you got caught, right?" I snarled.

"I know my almost ex-hubby is sorry he got caught!" Diana exclaimed, then reached down and grabbed him by the balls. She squeezed and squeezed, and his face went red with pain and humiliation as his wife squeezed his balls until he fell to his knees in agony.

"I bet that hurt." I smirked.

"No bet here." Diana replied, then looked at me as she moved back and away from General Peterson. "John, could you do me a favor and shoot my husband's cock off?" She asked.

"I don't know if I could hit something that small, but I could give it a try." I grinned at her, and she started laughing.

"Stop it!" Paula shrieked. "You have your confession! Just let us go!" She was begging now.

"Sure. Go ahead." I shrugged. "But you will leave this house naked." I told her, then went forward and withdrew the first set of handcuffs from my pocket, slapping them on her as she stood there in shock. I pushed her towards the front door. When she got to the door, I opened it and shoved her outside...

Right into the lights from the News Van parked on the street. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, so in an attempt at modesty, she fell to the grass and curled up in a ball. I laughed, as did Diana when she looked out the peephole in the door.

"Diana, leave out the back. You don't need to be here for what is about to happen. For your own dignity, it would be best if you left." I told her. "Go out the back and around to the other side gate around the corner. Trust me, I am not going to kill your husband."

"I trust you in this. John. You're a good man." She gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek. The she headed towards her kitchen and the back door while I walked back into the living room, pulling the second pair of cuffs from my pocket. General Peterson was still trying to rise from his wife's ballbusting when I reached him and effortlessly cuffed his hands behind his back.

"Now, General, it's time for your day in the spotlight!" I snarled as I walked him to the front door, his limp very pronounced from what Diana had done to him. I opened the door and shoved him outside, and he tumbled into the grass beside a still stricken Paula. I waved to the camera crew from the door, and then closed and locked it. I shut off all the lights and headed towards the General's den/home office.

And so here I sit, waiting for the authorities to show up. The News people must have finally called 911, as I sat there drinking the General's Scotch and smoking one of his Cuban cigars. Dammit, if I was going to be summarily executed or hauled off to jail. I was going to enjoy myself a bit before that happened. I sat with my Colt on my knee, sitting there, it gave me a sense of peace. The old pistol had seen a lot of action over the last century. It had been made in 1912, and was one hell of a weapon. It had seen action in World War I, World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. I had carried it since my dad gave it to me after my grandpa died. I smiled as I looked at it.

The only thing I regretted was knocking Tali out before I set off on this stupid crusade. I just hoped she could find it in her heart to forgive me.

I was bounced from my reverie by the phone on The General's desk ringing. I picked it up. "This is General Dickhead's den. I'm afraid the General is indisposed at the moment. May I take a message?" I leaned back and put my feet up on his desk as I took another puff from the Cuban stogie.

"Mister Blakely? Mister John Blakely?" The man's voice asked.

"Yep, John Blakely here. Who's this?" I replied.

"I'm Patrick Lackland, Channel 10 News. I'm talking to you from across the street. Can you tell us why you've stripped your wife and former boss naked and thrown them out of his house?" He said.

I gave him the lowdown on the entire situation. I told how I was now the subject of a worldwide manhunt thanks to the evidence that my wife and the General were having an affair. I also stated that I had even more proof now than before, including their confessions that they set me up to take the fall so they wouldn't be implicated in any ethical violations or seen as a threat to National Security.