Roland and Susan

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

Roland Waters sat at the bar, nursing his rum and coke, patiently waiting for a message to come across his phone. As he sipped his drink, he thought about the events that led him to this point in his life.

Born 36 years ago in Anchorage, Alaska, he married Linda, his high school sweetheart, right after graduation. He went to work on the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and spent several weeks at a time going from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez fixing various problems as they arose.

He came home one day after spending a grueling six weeks on the road to find his wife in bed with not one, but two of his former classmates. After protestations that it really didn't mean anything and it was only sex, he divorced her and joined the Army to get as far away from the situation as he could.

He eventually met and married his second wife, Melissa, while stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas. He thought he had hit the jackpot, but learned just the opposite after returning from a 12-month deployment to Iraq. He found her having sex with another soldier on the base and divorced her. That marriage lasted a little less than two years, about the same time as his marriage to Linda.

He threw himself into his work, and became the best soldier he could. He had one job -- kill the enemy. And he became damn good at it.

After his stint in the Army, he was recruited as a "freelancer," working for various interests in places like Africa and the Middle East. He also worked in Myanmar, helping an ethnic minority against a brutal regime. In short, he had become a soldier of fortune -- a mercenary, and a highly paid and sought-out one at that. His ruthlessness, efficiency and brutality in the field were just a few of the things that attracted potential clients.

Part of what set Roland apart from the other "contractors" was the fact that he chose his "clients" with care. He refused to work for anyone who dealt in drugs or human trafficking, for example. Several times, he took lower-paying jobs simply because he agreed with his benefactor's cause.

Another thing that set him apart from the others was his choice of weapon. While others opted for more modern hardware, he used an old World War II-vintage Thompson submachine gun, or SMG, that he bought from a somewhat shady character who claimed it had been used by another mercenary in the Congo War of the 1960s.

"Legend has it Patty Hearst bought this gun after she heard it," the man said. Roland called bullshit on that claim. He was familiar with the old song. Still, the weapon seemed to call out to him and it felt good in his hands. It was almost as if they were made to be together.

The weapon was in excellent shape and came complete with two large magazines and a drum that held 100 .45 caliber ACP pistol rounds. It only had an effective firing range of about 150 meters, but the "trench broom," as it had been called, was deadly and it suited him just fine. He especially liked that it was designed to be fired from the hip.

It cost him a pretty penny, to be sure, but it was deadly at close range and very reliable.

After a decade of working as a mercenary, he tired of the constant fighting and came back home, hoping to put his past behind him and start a family. He became a freelance consultant for a private security company and settled down. He met his current wife, Susan, at a social event where he had been hired to organize security.

Susan was an attorney for the firm of Freeman and Douglas. He literally bumped into her at the event as she was making her way to the bar. He caught her as she stumbled, preventing her from falling to the hard floor. He thought nothing of it at the time, but Susan was instantly taken with the tall, quiet and well-built man with the ragged scar across his face.

They spent a lot of time talking that night and began dating. He was very careful not to reveal too much of his background, only telling her that he worked overseas as a contractor after his four-year stint in the Army. He became very creative when she asked about the scars that dotted his body. And he certainly never told her about his secret overseas accounts. He had already been burned twice and wasn't about to go through that again.

They fell in love and married a year after they first met, and Roland thought he had finally found his one true soul mate.

At first, things were great between the two. They enjoyed each other's bodies several times a week and they got along well. Sure, they had their disagreements like every married couple does, but they worked through them. They were even talking about having children and bought a two-story three-bedroom house in a nice suburban neighborhood.

Then things started going off the rails. Susan began spending more time at the office working on various cases and going out for drinks with "the girls" and other co-workers. This raised a few red flags, but then came the summer party her firm put on.

He went with Susan as he always did, but he knew there would be problems the instant he walked in. Susan introduced him to her co-workers as she always did, but then she introduced him to the newest attorney in the firm, Michael Van Owen.

For a moment, Roland experienced a bout of deja vu. He hoped this wasn't the same Van Owen he knew from Africa. But as he looked at the tall man with the chiseled face, his hopes were dashed. It was the same man -- a man who once recruited him and fought with him, but became a turncoat after being offered more money, allegedly from a federal agency. Granted, that was several years ago, but Roland was not a man known for being very forgiving. And he never forgot a face.

Roland came face-to-face with the man who once tried to kill him. Van Owen extended his hand, a smirk on his face, but Roland simply walked away. Susan ran after him, calling to him.

"Roland, sweetie," she said. "What's wrong? Why were you so rude to Mike?" Roland couldn't tell Susan the whole story without revealing his true past.

"I don't trust that man," he said. "Something about him bothers me. I'm sorry, I really can't explain."

"Well, you're just going to have to get over it," she said. "Mike and I are working on several projects now and we'll be spending a lot of time together. Now get it together and come join us at the table."

"You're working with him?" Roland asked. Susan nodded her head.

"Yes, we are," she said. "Come on, we need to get back to the party." Susan grabbed his hand and led him back to their table. He held her back for a moment.

"I'm letting you know, Susan, you need to be careful of him," he said.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll be careful. Now come on, you're embarrassing me." He let her lead him back to the table where they sat down. Van Owen sat across from them, eyeing Roland carefully. Maybe, Roland thought, he was worried that he might get outed. Susan went to another table to speak with some of her colleagues. Van Owen leaned over the table and looked Roland in the eye.

"I hope you understand that what happened in Africa wasn't personal," he said. "It was just business. But now that I know Susan is your wife, it just became personal. Know this, I intend to do everything I can to take her from you."

"I should've hunted you down like the dog you are and killed you back in Africa," Roland said. "And I'm warning you -- if you fuck with my wife, I will kill you." Van Owen laughed.

"You're such a clueless romantic, Roland," he said. "You always were. I've already tasted your wife and I intend to fuck her brains out right in front of you before it's over. Then I'll finish the contract on you. I'll bet she doesn't know about your past, does she? Who knows, maybe I'll fill her in. But I'll call a truce for tonight -- for old time's sake."

"I'm warning you, Van Owen," Roland said. "This won't end well for you. Let it go. Leave Susan out of it." Van Owen smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. Susan came back to their table and looked at the two men.

"I see you two are getting to know each other," she said.

"Yes, we know exactly where we stand, don't we, Roland?" Van Owen asked.

"Yes," Roland said in a neutral tone of voice. Susan looked back and forth between them, wondering what was going on between the two men. She also wondered if Mike had told Roland about their affair. She knew Roland wouldn't tolerate her infidelity, especially after what his previous wives had done to him.

She sat down next to her husband and the three of them ate their meals, Roland and Van Owen watching each other carefully the whole time. Susan felt as though she could cut the tension between them with a knife.

After the meal and the obligatory speeches, Susan grabbed Roland's hand and dragged him to the dance floor. Roland held her tight, feeling her body close to his. Normally, he relished her closeness, but not this time. As they danced, he kept a close eye on Van Owen, who was also watching them.

"What's going on, Roland?" she asked him quietly. "You feel tense, like a coiled snake. Talk to me."

"How well do you know Van Owen?" he asked.

"We've been working together on some projects, why?" she asked.

"You didn't answer my question," he said. "How well do you know him?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You know what I mean," he said. "Have you slept with him?" She looked at him, shocked.

"Of course not," she said. "How could you ask such a thing?"

"Let me rephrase that," he said. "Have you had sex with him?" Her body flinched slightly after he asked, giving him his answer. "I see," he said. "How long has it been going on?"

"Roland, it doesn't mean anything," she said.

"It means everything to me, Susan," he said. "You know what I've been through and you how I feel about infidelity. I won't stand for it. Tell me, dear wife, what do you know about your lover?"

"Not much," she said. Roland noticed that she didn't deny the affair. "He came to work for us about six months ago. He supposedly did contract work for a federal agency. Why?"

"He's dangerous," Roland said. "And if you want to have any kind of a future with me, you'd better end it with him ASAP." She looked at him, wondering what was going through his mind.

"Is that a threat?" she asked.

"I don't make threats," he said. "It's a warning. And you'd better take heed. Otherwise it won't end well."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just trust me," he said. "It won't end well. For you, for him and for us."

"You're scaring me, Roland," she said.

"You'd better be scared," he said.

"What aren't you telling me, Roland? What's going on? Really?" she asked.

"I can't tell you," Roland said. "You'll just have to trust me. How long has it been going on between you two?"

"Not long," she said, a tear falling down her face. "Maybe a couple months."

"A couple months," Roland said. "I see. Are you in love with him?"

"No," she said. "I only love you."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I never meant to hurt you. It was just one of those things. I felt attracted to him and it just happened."

"Bullshit," Roland said calmly, causing her to flinch. "You could've said 'no,' but you didn't."

"Please believe me," she said. "I really do love you and I don't want to lose you."

"Alright," Roland said. "Then you won't have any problem ending it. Why don't you tell him to leave you alone, right here and now, in front of me."

"Okay," she said. "If that's what I have to do."

"It is," he said. "Let's go break it to him right now."

"If that's what you want," she said nervously. They walked off the dance floor and headed back to their table. Van Owen was standing, watching them approach.

"My wife has something she'd like to tell you, Van Owen," Roland said. Mike looked at Susan, who appeared scared.

"Mike, he knows. We can't see each other any more," she said. "I'm a married woman and I want to stay that way." Van Owen nodded his head.

"I see," he said, looking at Roland. "Well, I guess the better man won -- again," he added, extending his hand. "No hard feelings?" Roland looked at Mike's extended hand, a frown on his face. Refusing to shake Mike's hand, he steered Susan away and led her to the exit.

"Are we leaving already?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

When they got to their car, Roland surprised Susan again by inspecting the vehicle before getting inside. He even opened the trunk and the hood, looking for wires or anything else out of place. Satisfied that the car wasn't booby-trapped, he seated Susan and got inside.

"What was all that about?" Susan asked.

"You can never be too careful," he said. They rode home in silence. Roland was fuming and Susan was scared, not knowing what her husband was going to do. She hoped that her performance at the party convinced him enough to let her affair go. But she still had concerns. Looking at her husband, she suddenly didn't recognize him. It was like looking directly into the face of death itself.

"Are we okay?" she asked, scared of what he might say.

"That's up to you," he said. "So long as you stay away from Van Owen, yes. In fact I think you should resign and find another place to work."

"I can't do that," she said. "I'm working on some very sensitive projects right now and if I'm successful, I might be made a partner in the firm." Roland looked at her.

"So you're telling me your job is more important than our marriage?" Roland asked.

"No," she said. "It's just that I'm at a crucial point in my career and I can't afford to screw it up right now."

"You've already screwed up our marriage. My gut tells me I should kick your ass to the curb," he said. "And I still might. If I find out that you're still screwing Van Owen, it's over. Understand?" She nodded her head.

"I understand," she said. "But you need to tell me, what's going on between you two?"

"I already told you I can't reveal that," he said. "Let's just say we've dealt with each other before and leave it at that, okay?" Susan nodded her head, but decided to confront Mike.

Roland decided at that moment he would try to patch things up with Susan, but it would be a "trust but verify" situation. The first chance he got, he contacted an old friend who specialized in surveillance work. Bill Matthews had gotten in trouble with the law as a child, but those who knew him simply said he was an "excitable boy."

Bill wasn't quite as proficient with firearms as the others on his team, but he was the best reconnaissance and surveillance man Roland had ever met. He was also a good planner and could assess a situation within seconds. Roland often said he trusted Bill's guesses more than other people's so-called "facts."

"What? Van Owen's alive?" Bill asked. "Are you sure about that?"

"Oh yeah," Roland said. "And he's been screwing my wife."

"That son of a bitch," Bill said. "What do you need from me? Whatever it is, I'll do it."

"Right now, I need surveillance -- audio, video, the works," Roland said. "How much will you charge me for that?"

"Hey, I owe you my life several times over," Bill said. "Consider it a favor."

"Thanks," Roland said. "I appreciate that, but at least let me cover your expenses."

"Buy me a beer when it's over, okay?" Bill asked. Roland smiled.

"Consider it done, my friend," he said.

"So what do you intend to do with them if they're still, you know, involved?" Bill asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Roland said.

It didn't take very long for Roland to get the evidence he needed. A week after speaking with Bill, he held a large manila envelope that contained pictures and a USB drive with several high-definition videos.

That Friday, he sat at his kitchen table with the envelope, waiting for his wife to come home. His .45 caliber pistol also sat on the table. It was 6:30 pm when she opened the door and walked inside. She went into the kitchen and saw her husband sitting at the table with an envelope and a pistol in front of him. She instinctively knew that she had been caught.

"Sit down, wife," Roland said in a neutral tone. She remained standing. "I said, SIT DOWN!" he thundered. She meekly pulled out a chair and sat down.

"So, you caught me," she said. Roland slowly nodded his head.

"Do I need to show you the pictures?" he asked. "What about the video?" Her eyes opened wide.

"You have video?" she asked.

"Yes," Roland said. "In high definition. I must say, you should've become a porn star. You know what was worse than seeing you actually fucking that piece of shit?"

"No, Roland, I don't," she said quietly.

"Hearing the two of you disrespect me," he said. Susan dropped her head, tears falling down her cheek.

"Knock off the crying," he said. "You made me a promise, and then you broke it. How could you do that to us? Have I been that bad a husband to you? Have I ever abused you or treated you badly?"

"No, you've been a wonderful husband," she said.

"Then why did you do it? Was it his big cock? Are you a big cock whore now?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I guess I just fell for him. I guess you'll be asking for a divorce now."

"What do you think?" he asked rhetorically. She looked at him, defiant.

"Know this," she said. "That would be the biggest mistake you could ever make. I know all about you now. What was it they called you? Oh, yes, 'Roland the Heartless Thompson gunner.' How many men have you killed in your career as a mercenary? You know all that will come out in the divorce. I also know that you're wanted in several countries." Roland chuckled. If the stupid bitch knew that, he thought, she would also have known how he tended to destroy his enemies. She had no idea what she was messing with.

"First of all, that old name was from some song back in the 70s. It was 'Headless,' not 'Heartless.' As you can see, my head is still very much attached to my body and I hail from Alaska, not Norway," he said. "Second, I've done nothing illegal. At least not in the U.S. And the governments in those other countries have changed since I was last there and we don't have any extradition treaties with them."

"Well, the IRS might be very interested in your offshore accounts," she said. "You know, the ones where all your money is hiding. I'm talking about the money you haven't paid any taxes on." Roland smiled again.

"If you had taken the time to look, you would've known that those old accounts were set up by your lover a long time ago," he said. "And they're empty right now. Have been for years." Her face went white as he continued. "That's right. Your lover is the one who first recruited me into the business. Oh, he didn't tell you that, did he? I'll bet he also didn't tell you that he was right there with me, knee-deep in all the blood and gore for years. And I'll bet he never told you about the contract he was given to kill me."

"What?" she asked. "That can't be true."

"Oh but it is, dear wife," Roland said. "He came very close to killing me, too. I stopped him, though, and almost killed him, but he escaped. I never saw or heard from him again until the party. Imagine my surprise to see him there."

"I don't believe you," she said.

"Didn't you see the scar on his inner thigh? Surely you had to when you were sucking him off. I saw you looking right at it when he came in your mouth," Roland said. Susan's face somehow got an even paler shade of white. "I gave him that scar when I shot him. I was aiming for his balls, but he zigged when I thought he was going to zag. It was just a flesh wound, but I'll bet it had to hurt. By the way, did he tell you that he intends to kill me as well?" Susan shook her head.