The First Deadly Sin

Billy said, "How long?!"

She looked miserable. She said pleadingly, "It doesn't matter how long. This wasn't supposed to happen. I only love you. Please, please!! It will never happen again!!"

Billy said grimly, "It matters a lot. Bennett is my superior officer. He is in deep shit if he was ordering me away so you two could play bedroom games. You can tell me now, or you can tell the Adjutant General when he deposes you, but you WILL tell someone."

Suzy burst into tears again and said, "It's been since the Dress Ball. He told me it was just a bit of fun. Nobody would get hurt."

Billy did the math. He said, "Are you telling me that you've been fucking that son-of-a-bitch for the past eight months?? God!! I am too stupid to live!!"

Suzy ran through the adulterer's handbook, "It was just sex. It didn't affect anything between the two of us. I only love you. We can get past this. I know we can. I'll never let another man touch me, just you!!"

Suzy started to rise. She was going to play her trump card. She said, "It was only when you were away. I NEVER thought you would find out. I would NEVER do anything to hurt US. Come to bed and let me make it up to you." Billy looked at that gorgeous body. Her lady parts were an absolute mess.

That sight flipped a switch and three years vanished in a puff of smoke. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. Billy felt nothing. There was no pain, just oblivion. He said disgustedly, "I never want to touch you again. I loved and trusted you, and here you are full of that disgusting son-of-a-bitch's cum."

Suzy looked puzzled. Then the realization struck. He didn't want her?!! That was impossible!! Every man wanted her!! How could she win her husband back if he didn't want her?

It finally dawned on Suzy Hughes that she was in serious trouble.

Billy was a man of honor. He would never break a pledge. To him, Suzy's betrayal was the worst kind of treachery. It drove him wild with anger, but his lifelong commitment to service had created a foundation of adamantine self-control. Billy never reacted emotionally. It was the same quality that made him so effective in combat. He made life-and-death choices daily, in Afghanistan, and this was just another one of those.

Billy knew that his next actions were going to dictate the direction of his life going forward. So, he stopped and asked himself what he REALLY wanted out of this situation. The answer came back instantly, "I want to rebuild my life without this woman."

He said calmly, "You and I are done. It isn't a matter of trust, or even my male ego. I just can't live with a person who has no honor. And you lost yours the minute you defiled our marriage."

Suzy looked like she was about to say something. So, he quickly added, "I don't care what excuses you have. It was simply the wrong thing to do. You knew it was wrong, but you did it anyhow. And there is no denying that fact."

Suzy looked distraught. She said pleadingly, "Please Billy. Give me one more chance. I can't imagine life without you."

Billy added grimly, "Honestly, I can't imagine life without you either. But sometimes you have to do tough things if you want to keep your self-esteem."

He added softly, like he was talking to himself, "I would lose all respect for myself if I continued the marriage. Life's full of pain and suffering. It happens to everybody. Successful people deal with it. So, I am NOT going to let this drag me into a well of self-pity. I was brought up to be stronger than that." It was what his parents had taught him.

Suzy sank to the floor of the bedroom crying. Billy looked at her with the mixed feelings. Anybody would have those feelings, if they had loved somebody for a long time. But Billy was a person who was committed to facing things.

He said mildly, "I'm going to bunk into the Base BOQ until the divorce. I'll be fair, but nothing more than that. You know my family, especially my mother and my Aunt Mary. So, don't even think about contesting this. They'd bury you and your old man." With that he grabbed the "ready bag," and walked out of Suzy's life forever.

*****

That evening Kelly and I grabbed a flight out of BWI, bound for Heathrow. We didn't bother to mention it to anybody, but then again, nobody cared. We were nothing more than the designated Judas-goat.

I had booked one of those long-stay apartments in May Fair, $300 a night with a bedroom and a pull-out couch for me to sleep on. I wasn't going to tempt fate by sharing a bed with Kelly. It wasn't Claridges or the Cavendish, but we were traveling on a government expense account.

Esfahan was the source of the concern. So, the next day I trudged up Bruton Street in a soaking rain looking for her office. I was expecting something Victorian. After all, she was a Cambridge PhD and it was off Berkeley Square, but her address was a modern building.

It was raining hard. So, I loitered in a doorway across the street. Finally, she dashed out her building's door and rushed off toward a pub up the street. I waited a serviceable period and joined the party. It was still raining. So, I had my collar up and my hat pulled low, thank God!! Esfahan and Hughes were sitting right next to the entrance.

I was pleased to find the two subjects together. It made the bluebugging ever-so-much easier. I needed them within thirty feet to drop a little piece of malware on their phones via their Bluetooth ports. Of course, that's strictly illegal, but my only interest is results, so I don't care about legal. Laws are just the point of reference to color outside of.

Esfahan was in discoverable mode. So, she was wide open. The fact that she was walking around with her whole life exposed, indicated that Miss Esfahan was probably NOT a threat to National Security, but we had to prove it.

Hughes was a bit more difficult. His phone wasn't discoverable. So, I used a Bluesniffer to access his 2.4 GHz port. Then I dropped the same malware shell on him. It was the one I had just laid on his girlfriend. That exploit was all taking place in their pockets; as they enjoyed finger sandwiches and white wine.

I got up and made my way back out into the rain, making sure that they didn't see my face. Now, we could monitor and record their conversations, calls and even use their phone's camera feature.

*****

We monitored Hughes and Esfahan for a solid month. It was clear that they were two people in love, nothing more. Esfahan seemed to be avoiding her family and Hughes was totally business-like. That is, when he wasn't with her. When he WAS with her he acted like a smitten schoolboy. I didn't blame him. Estefan was a beautiful and intelligent woman.

It was becoming glaringly obvious that Kelly and I were just the cat's-paw for some elaborate personal agenda, and that person was going out of his way to stay anonymous. Consequences are for wimps, at a certain level in the Federal bureaucracy. Think about it. You don't get no stinkin' consequences if no one knows who pushed the button. So, nameless people hold life or death power over the rest of us.

Lord Acton got it right when he said, "Power corrupts," but so does anonymity. The bureaucracy is incredibly powerful and confusingly intricate. Its complexity lets anonymous seat warmers abuse the power of their position. I mean seriously!!?? What's the point of having minions, if you can't use them to resolve a few of your own anger issues.

Nobody plans road rage, but occasionally another driver totally yanks your chain. Now imagine that the other guy is driving a Fiat 500 and you're driving an Abrams tank. It's only human to crush the fucker.

It might cost you. That is, IF people knew you did it. But, the nice thing about being an anonymous cog in an impersonal machine, is that you can rumble on down the road whistling "Another one bites the dust;" with the self-righteous assurance that you've just eliminated one more bad driver.

Getting involved in that shit, will corrode your soul. Maybe that's why I got so fucking jaded. But even an utterly world-weary hard-case like myself can get fed-up. And the railroad job we were engineering for Billy Hughes was making me gag.

My spidey-sense told me I'd hit the end of the road, and it triggered a strange sensation. For the first time in my life I wanted to do the right thing; not the smart thing. And, none of that involved hanging Hughes out to dry. I said to Kelly, "I've come to a decision." She looked more-than-a-little interested.

I said, "I've decided to go rogue. These two, are being set-up and I'm going to find out who's behind this clusterfest. When I do, I'm going to shine the light of righteousness on the entire stinking mess. Maybe I'll even get some of my own soul back."

I added lovingly, "I'll have to break cover and it will probably violate our contract, if not the law. This could get very messy. So, you can opt out if you want. No hard feelings. Only a stupid goon like moi, would go feral on the entire U.S. government."

Kelly looked like I'd hit her g-spot. She said in a husky voice, "You know how to turn a girl on don't you baby."

I thought to myself, "Why haven't I made this woman mine??!!"

I said, "It's time to talk to the target. We need the backstory. There has to be an obvious reason why this dude's being fitted for a treason frame."

*****

Besides being smart and beautiful, Kelly can pretty much sell a story to anybody. Hughes and Esfahan were both deeply intellectual people. I'm a thug, but Kelly is a PhD graduate of the University of Chicago's forensic psychiatry program. So, Kelly made the initial contact.

The real Kelly is like lightning in a bottle, but she has this chameleon-like ability to project a certain persona simply by facial expressions and the way she holds her exquisite body. This Kelly had nothing of the pantherish grace and powerful athletic frame of the real one. She was very civilized.

I could see her smile politely and introduce herself. Both Hughes and Esfahan's body language screamed uneasiness; at first, that is. Kelly stood there, calmly explaining and eventually they simply looked curious. She handed them a card. Then she turned and walked out the door.

It was likely that the London camera system would pick her up as soon as she stepped outside the restaurant. And it was equally likely that the people who we had just declared unofficial war on, would be on the other end watching. So, she executed a classic "find the lady" maneuver.

The whole point of three-card-monte is to get the mark watching the wrong card. Kelly was the one who had made the contact and they'd be watching her. So, Kelly exited first. I came out a few minutes later. Because, I was the money card.

Kelly used four different underground stations and two different underground lines to get back to our flat. I was sure that they were burning up their camera bandwidth trying to follow her. Then she proceeded to kick back for a nice relaxing evening at home, a job well done.

In the meantime, I had slipped through Berkeley Square and then up Bruton Lane to the Coach & Horses; which was where I had first observed Hughes and Esfahan. Finally, I circled back down Bruton Street. I was waiting for the loving couple outside Dr. Esfahan's office.

Hughes and Esfahan came up the street and into the building holding hands. It was cute. I stepped out of the shadows. I could tell from their body language that they didn't want anything to do with me. I didn't blame them. At five-eleven, and 240 pounds I resemble a gorilla.

I said as politely as I could, "Dr. Esfahan, Commander Hughes? We need to talk."

Hughes said, "Your associate told us that you had something important to discuss. Then he smiled engagingly and said, "She said that you were harmless, even though you looked like the Missing Link."

I said with a smile, "Just think of me as a big teddy bear. I know I'm built like one."

They laughed, and the ice was broken. I said apprehensively, "We can't stand outside like this." I gestured toward the traffic camera up the block.

Dr. Esfahan said in a low cultured voice, "Please come up to my office." I knew from the bugs that she could make her Oxbridge accent sound like a proposition to get naked. She was one very hot woman.

Once we were neatly ensconced, and far away from prying eyes; I looked directly at Hughes and said, "I know that this is sudden and unexpected; and I also know that you are going to have a hard time believing me, but Kelly and I were assigned by the Pentagon to set you up for treason."

I added, trying to convey the importance of what I was about to say, "It looks like you are being put in the frame by somebody you know."

Hughes was surprisingly calm, just a simple tightening of his jaw muscles. I thought, "Good man!!" I added, "I don't know why, and I don't know who's behind it. But, Kelly and I are here to help you. Maybe we can get to the bottom of this, working together."

I said earnestly, "Is there anybody you know in the Government who would like to see you in an orange jumpsuit in ADX Florence?"

I expected him to act puzzled or outraged, maybe even frightened, since a Federal super-max is a scary proposition. Instead he calmly said, "I can think of one person who might want that to happen."

He told me a classic story of betrayal.

I've been an Army cop, and private eye for almost 25 years and I've seen thousands of them. Wife gets hooked up with some slick operator and ends up getting discovered. That's because, sooner-or-later people who hook-up ALWAYS get discovered.

Except this time, the whore in question was fucking Hughes's commanding officer. And Hughes had the evidence to prove it. Even worse, the commanding officer had been abusing his position, to get Hughes out of the way.

So, one UCMJ Article-134 Court Martial later, the fucker in question found himself busted down from Captain to Lieutenant Commander, one rank below Hughes. Then he was handed an, "Other than Honorable," discharge; which is the kiss of death for future career opportunities; except perhaps in the janitorial trade.

That would be the case with this dude. Except his father was a Joint Chief. So, daddy parked his little boy with a contractor; for considerations of future love. That's the normal backscratching boogie among the bandits-of-the-beltway.

That put at least two people on the suspect list, the son and the dad, but apparently there was a third. The whore Hughes had been married to was given a very unfriendly divorce and shipped back to her daddy in tears. Her daddy was a player in the Kentucky delegation and he didn't appreciate his little girl being returned as damaged goods. So, there might also be involvement with the folks on the Hill.

Accordingly, it was probably safe to assume that Hughes was in deep shit with a number of very powerful folks. I said, "Before we can start investigating, we need background information, and frankly I don't know how to get it."

Esfahan said in a disheartened tone of voice, "It will kill me, but maybe we should go our separate ways, my love. I don't want to get you in trouble with your government."

I looked at her bluntly and said, "Don't give up that easily, my little friend. You're collateral damage right now. But the Brits would ship you back to Iran if things turned out the way they are designed to go."

Then I added, perhaps a bit too gruffly, "Are you a VAJA sleeper agent? They know who your father and brothers are, and we also know who your mother worked for. That's the story that the people spinning this little fairy tale are pushing."

Esfahan looked terrified. Her face is so stunning, and her eyes are so intelligent, that you quickly lose track of the fact that, beneath all that beauty she is just a normal person. Kelly is the one exception to that rule. She's gorgeous and she is ALWAYS dangerous.

Esfahan looked like she was about to explode. She said angrily, "My family is Shia and followers of Agha-Tehrani." That statement meant they were indeed hard-core fundamentalists.

She added, "But, I have no religion except humanism. I would NEVER do a cruel thing to anybody, for any reason. Because of that, I have been alienated from my family since I matriculated Cambridge. What they believe doesn't make sense to me. It's coldhearted. I'm a healer, not a fanatic."

There was nothing rehearsed, or dishonest in the way she said it. I learned a long time ago to trust my gut. And this woman was simply not a threat. What we saw, was exactly what we were getting.

Hughes said, "The background information you need is no doubt all locked down under a "classified" heading. There is only one person I know who can get that and that's my sister."

I knew about the sister. I said, "You mean the one who's with the Red Dragon Revolution?"

Hughes chuckled and said with brotherly pride, "Chelsea IS the Red Dragon Revolution. It's just her."

I said incredulously, "Do you mean that one of the most powerful hacking groups on the darkweb is nothing more than one woman?"

He smiled and said, "If it involves a computer Chelsea will find it for you."

*****

Five days later, Kelly and I got off a sixteen-hour flight to the tropical island of Martinique. We had reported to McCarthy that all was quiet in London. However, we had dug up some secret bank accounts in that Caribbean nation, and we were going there to check them out. It was actually a head-fake.

That news must have given McCarthy a woody, since he knew that the entire investigation was a sham. The idea that Hughes might really be up to nefarious dealings would make the whole process of framing him so much easier. So, he fell for it hook-line-and-sinker.

There was a sleek 60 Cantius waiting for us at the Fort-de-France cruise terminal. It was a real luxury item. The owner had to have very big money indeed. It was being driven by an older guy. His daughter met us as we boarded.

She was a slip of a girl, compared to Kelly; perhaps five feet tall and maybe 100 pounds., but she was absolutely, heart-stoppingly beautiful.

She had very thick auburn hair that was cut short in a "pixie." That only served to highlight the perfect proportions of her flawless face. She had the most amazing pair of intelligent jade green eyes. Kelly's are an emerald green. They reflect the heart and soul of the Irish people. This little woman looked more like she was half cat.

She was wearing a simple hooded pull-over sweat-shirt and short boat-shorts. Her legs were spectacular, perfectly muscled and slim, yet full and round. She had a bubble butt to rival Kelly's.

With a superb body like that, you would expect her to radiate sexuality, but this woman came off dangerously competent and very tightly controlled.

She gave me an appraising look. It was disturbingly direct. This little woman clearly operated on a different plane than the rest of us humans. I had seen that same look before, so I said, "You must be Billy's sister Chelsea."

Chelsea Hughes-Meissner was an odd amalgam of incomparable intelligence and focused, almost laser-like intensity. She was one of the most intimidating people I have ever met.

She said, "Yes, I'm Chelsea and this is my husband Tom."

So, he was the HUSAND, not the dad??!! I understood. You'd have to be very secure yourself, to coexist with a woman like Chelsea. I couldn't imagine any guy her age being confident enough to keep his macho intact married to her."

There was a miniature version of Chelsea standing next to her. She was also tiny. She had the same flawless beauty, auburn hair and dusky coloring as her mom. She also had the same outrageous Jade green eyes.

The little girl was no more than seven years old. But, she extended her hand graciously and said, "My name is Brooklyn. Welcome aboard our vessel."