This story is a spin-off of my ongoing "Snugglebunny" series about the life and love of Chris and Chloe Weber. To understand all of the background and context, you will need to check that series out. As the stories are posted under different areas of Literotica, I suggest you check out my profile for links to those. To fit the timeline of those stories, this has been set to take place some time in the future.

The story includes one of the main characters from "An Ounce of Prevention" and "A Pound of Cure" and mentions an incident from "Revenge in Advance: Mona."

For the perfectionists among you, I realize that Special Forces types work in much smaller units than depicted here, so I took a bit of artistic license for the purpose of this story.

Constructive comments are always welcome and appreciated. As always, remember this is a work of fiction and not a docu-drama...

June 3, 2036:

Captain Mike Weber, U.S. Army, looked over the rugged terrain he and his men had just cleared of enemy combatants. It was a hard-fought battle against the latest group of radicals, who had apparently taken after their predecessors in ISIS and al-Qaeda. The battle over, he and his men were clearing the area as they prepared to return to their base camp in the Sub-Sahara.

After briefing his battalion commanding officer, Mike was handed a piece of paper by a clerk.

"Congratulations, Captain," the female corporal said. "You and your men just earned a 30-day leave."

"Thanks, Corporal," Mike said, smiling. God knows they had earned it. Reading the orders, which came down from "on high," he noticed that in addition to a 30-day leave, they were to spend an additional 15 days at Fort Benning to regroup, which meant getting replacements for those who had been either killed or otherwise taken out of action.

Moreover, he learned that one of his superiors, Brigadier General David Masters, would temporarily leave the Pentagon and accompany them back in-country to act primarily as an observer. Right, he snorted to himself. The man was just bucking for his second star and probably wanted to finally pin a Combat Infantryman's Badge on his uniform. Fucking politicians in uniform, he thought to himself.

He went back to their area and ordered 1st Sgt. Roberts to assemble the men. A few minutes later, the big man reported back to him.

"The company is assembled, sir," he said. Mike shook his head and walked to the formation as the 1^st Sgt. called them to attention. He performed a smart about face as Mike approached.

"Company present and accounted for, sir," he said. Mike nodded.

"Posts!" Mike ordered. The 1^st Sgt and the other company NCOs turned and took their place as the officers came forward. There were no salutes exchanged as they were still in a combat zone and a salute could instantly alert a sniper looking for a quick kill.

"At ease," he said after the exchange had taken place. The dusty, dirty soldiers relaxed a bit, watching their commanding officer.

"Good news, men," he said. "We've accomplished our mission for now, and the Army has rewarded us with a 30-day leave." He paused as the soldiers exclaimed their appreciation. "After that, it's on to Fort Benning for 15 days with a return trip." There were groans at that bit of news. "So, it's time for us to pack our trash and head out. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning at 0530, immediately after breakfast. That is all." He called the company to attention and ordered the 1^st Sgt to dismiss the troops.

He headed back to his tent and began packing his duffel bag. Sitting down at his field desk, he pulled out his tablet and tried connecting to the secure satellite feed. It was difficult here, as the geography of the area, combined with the minerals in the local rocks, conspired to act as something of a natural jamming device for many of their satellite communications. Video comms were nearly impossible here, but short text messages could usually go through.

He tried contacting Lynette, his wife of three years, but couldn't. So he sent a short text letting her know he would be home on leave in a day or two. His plan was to collect his wife, then go visit his parents in Springfield.

His brother, Brian, had just graduated from West Point and was already home on a short leave, waiting to attend his Basic Officer Leadership course before being transferred to Fort Huachua, Arizona, where he would get advanced training as a military intelligence officer. Mike was the bigger and stronger of the two boys, which came in handy now, but Brian was always the smart one.

It was a bit funny, he thought to himself. While Brian looked up to his big brother and wanted to follow in his footsteps, the truth was that Mike admired his younger sibling for his cunning and his ability to work through a problem.

As kids, they often played "Army" in the woods behind their parent's home. Brian would pretend to scout the area out and get intel on the "enemy," which usually consisted of rocks that were, in their game, really the bad guys. He would sneak out, then later sneak back, giving Mike the layout of the land and a proposed course of action. Mike, being the bigger and stronger of the two, would then go and take the "enemy" out, with Brian providing the necessary backup. He smiled at the memory.

"God, I'd love to have Brian with us out here," he said to himself.

Then there was his teenage sister, Marilyn. She would be 15 this month, he thought. Being the baby of the family, and the only girl -- other than his mother, of course, she got away with a lot more than either one of the boys. That might also have been due to the fact that she was the spitting image of her mother at that age and was just as precocious. She was growing into a real beauty and he knew she would become a heart-breaker someday.

"I hope Dad has a good shotgun," he thought to himself.

Of course, he thought of his parents, Chris and Chloe Weber. The two had been married since 2002 and were literally life-long lovers. He never knew a couple who still showed as much passion for each other as his parents. Many times, growing up, he would come home from school to find them in the pool, locked in a tight embrace.

He thought it rather cute that even in their 50s, they chased after each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers in heat. They even sometimes referred to each other as "brother" and "sister," even though they weren't related. He knew the story behind that and thought it was cute, but still found it just a bit strange.

His father, an accomplished photographer who started at the local paper, had many photos published by major news organizations and had won awards for some of his work. He was also a best-selling author, having written several books, including one about a man facing the death penalty after being falsely accused of adultery. He read all of his father's books and was in awe of the man's talent. His mother had become the head nurse in the maternity ward of the local hospital, where she had worked since college.

He also knew that Amy Jenkins, a woman they all knew as "Aunt Amy," would be there with her husband, Dr. Mark Jenkins. Amy really wasn't their blood relative, but was a close friend of their parents, who had unofficially adopted her as their "sister." Amy is the one who told him that he had been conceived at a balcony party in New Orleans during Mardi Gras.

"How do you know that?" he asked her.

"I was there," she said, smiling. "I was also there when Brian was conceived." That, he thought, was "TMI," or too much information, and he never mentioned it again.

His tablet buzzed, letting him know he had a message. Coming back to the present, he read it twice. It was a short response from his wife letting him know she wouldn't be available and would instead be with her boss who was taking a "fact-finding" mission to Europe.

Crap, he thought. Of all the weekends for her to be gone, it had to be this one. This had happened more than once and it was frankly beginning to piss him off. Worse yet, her boss was none other than the aforementioned Brig. General Masters, who always seemed to find the most inopportune times to keep her away from him.

Between trips to various military installations for "inspections," meetings with officials on Capitol Hill or foreign junkets, it seemed she was gone more than she was home. He wished that she would just once tell him she needed to be with her husband. She wasn't in the military, after all, and the general could always pick another personal assistant to arrange his schedule.

He started to wonder if maybe there was more going on than what she let on. He always trusted her, but thinking back, he realized that their time together had been cut very short and their sex lives had almost disappeared since she started working for the general.

She was even gone the night before he left for this deployment, saying the general had an important meeting with a senator who didn't think the Army should be sending troops to this part of Africa. She didn't get back home until about 4:00 am, just in time for him to leave. They briefly kissed as they passed each other on the driveway, and he thought she smelled odd, but he couldn't place it.

"Call me," she said, entering the house. That was it. Not a "love you," or "be careful" or anything. He wondered if she even gave a shit that he was about to be thrust into the latest meat grinder in the seemingly endless war on terror started in 2001.

During this latest deployment, he got a grand total of two letters, three emails and four short text messages. She sent nothing on his birthday, the holidays or their anniversary. The first email said the general was keeping her very busy and it was possible she wouldn't have a lot of time for communications.

"But I still love you and miss you," she wrote.

Yeah, right, he thought. He, on the other hand, sent text messages or emails every day he could, even though he learned not to expect a response. It was hard, but he didn't to even want to think of the possibility that she was cheating. He had seen what that did to other soldiers in the field, and it wasn't pretty.

Now, she was supposedly on some mission with the general. Something didn't sound right. He picked up his tablet. Opening the phone finder application, he punched in his wife's number. In recent years, Congress had passed laws requiring trackers on all civilian mobile phones so they could easily be located and tracked. If the phone was on or its battery was installed, its location could be tracked and recorded by the carrier, which in turn, gave access to Homeland Security and the Defense Department. The idea was to keep track of potential terrorists.

After a few minutes, the finder showed a map with a glowing red dot. He looked and couldn't believe what he was seeing. The dot was about 150 miles east of the Bahamas. What the hell was she doing there? He wasn't stupid, and knew this certainly wasn't the route one would take for an official trip to Europe.

According to the app, that was the last known location of her phone, recorded two days ago. Where the hell was she, and what was she doing? And how the hell was she texting him if her phone hadn't been on for two days?

Looking at her message closely, he saw it came from a special DoD device that had tracking disabled for security reasons. Apparently, the system was forwarding the messages to that device. He texted her back.

"I'm going to visit my folks when I get back whether you're home or not. If they ask where my wife is, I'll just tell them she thought being with General Fuckhead was more important than her husband's family. And why the fuck is your phone stuck east of the Bahamas? Where the hell are you, really?" he asked.

He got a reply back in a couple minutes. Apparently, he struck a nerve.

"It's my job, dammit. Don't know about the phone. Turned it off when it started acting up. Do what you must. I'll be home when I'm home. Tell them whatever you want. Bye," she wrote.

Job, my ass, he thought. For the first time since she took this job, he seriously considered getting a divorce. He didn't need this aggravation. Worse yet, he figured the general might have seen his message. He heard rumors that the general had a way of deliberately putting people who pissed him off in harm's way and wondered if that would be his fate as well.

Still, he had a lot of unanswered questions. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough bandwidth here for him to do much else, but he swore to get some answers when he got home.

He ate dinner, then packed his gear for the next day. He kept thinking about Lynette long after he went to bed that night.

The next day was hectic. After breakfast, the company struck their tents, then packed and loaded their gear in one of the huge transport planes that would carry them home. Once finished, 1^st Sgt Roberts formed the company for a final inspection and accompanied Mike as he went from soldier to soldier, checking them and their equipment over before leaving. These were all professional soldiers, so he knew there would be no issues. But he had to follow Army protocol.

He gave the order for the men to load up and watched as they entered the transport aircraft squad by squad. Once everyone was on board, he and the 1^st Sgt made one last check before approaching the lead aircraft.

"After you, 1^st Sgt," Mike said. The big man nodded his head and headed inside. Mike made sure that no matter what, he was the first man on the field and the last one off. This was no exception. Looking one final time, he entered the plane and took his place on one of the canvas seats.

Mike tried to sleep on the long voyage home, but images of his Lynette with General Dickwad kept entering his mind.

The plane landed at Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling about 4:30 in the morning. After seeing to his men, Mike made his way to their home in Officer's Country. The house was dark and looked much as he had left it six months earlier. As far as he could tell, it didn't appear to have been used at all since he left.

He put his gear away, showered and changed into jeans and a t-shirt, observing that most, if not all, of Lynette's clothing and accessories were gone. Looking through the mail, he noticed that while the bills had been paid, not much else had been done. He also noticed that letters he had sent to his wife remained on the table, unopened.

The food in the refrigerator was old and past its due date. Some had green fuzzy stuff growing on it. He threw the garbage out and cleaned the fridge up so it wouldn't smell up the whole house.

He checked his bank account to make sure things were okay there, and from what he could tell, things were normal. Lynette usually handled the bills, so he really didn't know what was "normal" or not. Fortunately, the bills were paid through automatic drafts and both his and Lynette's pay were directly deposited in the account.

It was just after 8:30 when he called Lynette's office, hoping to get some answers.

"I'm sorry, Capt. Weber," the female voice said on the other end. "Mrs. Weber and General Masters are both on leave and won't be back until sometime toward the end of the month."

"On leave?" Mike asked. "Are you sure about that? My wife said she and the general were on some kind of fact-finding mission to Europe."

"Uh, no, there's no fact-finding mission I'm aware of. Both of them took leave about the same time and said they would be out of the area," the woman said.

"How long ago was this leave planned?" Mike asked.

"Let me see," the woman said. "It looks like they put in for it two months ago. Says here the general and your wife wanted to plan a surprise for your return from Africa for your good work over there."

"They did, huh?" Mike asked sarcastically. "Well, they sure did surprise me. Did they leave any contact information?"

"Both used your wife's personal cell phone number," the woman said. Terrific, Mike thought. Screw it, he said to himself.

"I see," he told the woman. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome, sir," she said. "And welcome home." Mike thanked the woman and hung up the phone.

He sat down and thought about his options. Divorce seemed all but inevitable at this point. Of course, that could screw up his career but his life was already a shambles. If he made things hard on Lynette, the general and his friends on Capitol Hill could really screw him over. He decided to call his dad.

"Hey Mike," his father said, picking up the phone on the first ring. "Wanna go video? I haven't seen you in so long." Mike smiled.

"Sure, Dad, hang on," he said, turning on the giant flat-screen and pressing a button on his phone. His father's smiling face filled the television.

"There you are," the older man said. "Looks like you got some sun."

"Yeah, Africa was fun," Mike said.

"You getting ready to head out here? Everyone is anxiously waiting to see you guys," Chris said.

"I'll be leaving today or tomorrow," Mike said.

"What's the matter, son? You said 'I.' Where's that lovely wife of yours?" Chris asked. The old man was always able to read him like a book.

"I don't know where she is, Dad," Mike said. "She told me she was on a fact-finding mission with General Masters in Europe but her phone was last tracked east of the Bahamas. Her office tells me she and the general are on leave until about the end of the month but they don't know where she or her boss are. I'll be leaving today or tomorrow by myself." Chris looked sad as Mike told him the news.

"I take it General Masters is in your chain of command," Chris said. Mike nodded. "And he's her boss?" Mike nodded yes again. "That doesn't sound good, son. What are you planning to do?" he asked.

"I don't know, Dad. I need information but I don't know where to look or what to do," Mike said.

"Alright, son," Chris said. "Don't worry. I know some people who can help, so I'll talk to them. You get some rest and just come on out. We'll talk about this further when you get here, alright?"

"Okay, Dad, thanks," Mike said. "Give everyone my love and tell them I said hello."

"I will, son," Chris said. "Drive safe and we'll see you in a day or so." They ended the call and Mike began gathering his gear for the trip to Springfield. After packing, he inspected his car to make sure it would make the trip, locked up the house and headed out. It was still early in the day, about 10:30, and he saw no need to spend another night in the place.

Filling the car with gas, he filled his thermos with coffee, bought a pack of small flavored cigars -- something his father got him hooked on -- and headed west. He drove straight through, making it to St. Louis in 12 hours, stopping only to gas up, eat and use the restroom. He still had about a three or four hour drive ahead of him, but decided to grab a motel room and leave early, so as to be fairly fresh when he got there.

He left early the next morning after grabbing a quick breakfast and pulled into his parent's gated driveway four hours later. Pulling up, he saw his mother and sister waiting for him at the door.

At 52, going on 53, his mother still looked quite ravishing in her casual shorts and t-shirt, showing off her shapely, well-toned dancer's legs. She still had a great figure, even after giving birth to three children, and could easily pass for someone ten years younger. No wonder Dad always seemed happy, he thought to himself. His much younger sister, Marilyn, also wearing short casual shorts and a t-shirt, looked like a teenage carbon copy of her mother. They both raced out to greet him as he got out of his car.
His mother hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Marilyn followed suit.

"You've been smoking those cigars again, haven't you?" his mother asked, smiling. "Just like your dad, I swear. Well, it's still great to see you. I wish Lynette could have been with you, though."

"Me, too, Mom," he said. Brian came out of the house and shook his big brother's hand. Mike shook his hand and gave him a manly bear hug.

"I'll get your stuff," Brian said after the two hugged. Mike patted him on the back.

"Thanks, bro," he said. Walking in the house, Mike was hugged by everyone, including his father, his grandparents and "Aunt" Amy and her husband. After saying their hellos, everyone gathered in the living room.

"So how are you, son," Chris asked.

"I've been better, Dad," he said. "It sure is great to see all of you, though."

"I just want you to know that all of us are pulling for you, no matter what you decide, okay?" Chris said. Mike nodded his head. "Let me bring you up to speed. After we talked yesterday, I contacted an old friend of mine, Ron Wiseman. He's an ace researcher who's done a lot of work with the Federal HomeFront Security Task Force and he told me this morning he's pretty sure what's going on with your wife."

"HomeFront Security Task Force?" Mike asked. "I've never heard of that. What is it?" Chris' father responded.

"That's the outfit we did some clean-up work for back during the Skaggs administration, remember that?" he said, addressing Chloe's father.

"Yeah, I remember. That was quite a mess with the First Lady," he said. "Trust me, son, you're a lot better off not knowing."

"So, Mike, are you ready to hear what Ron has to say?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, Dad, I really need to know what the hell is going on," Mike said. Chris called his friend, and soon, Ron's face filled the giant 92-inch television on the wall.

"Oh, there you all are. You must be Mike Weber, Chris and Chloe's son, right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Mike said in response.

"Please call me Ron. I work for a living," he said to laughter. "Well, finding your wife and General Masters turned out to be a lot easier than I thought. In the old days this would probably have taken me a day or possibly two, but with all the new tech and protocols we have now, it only took me a few minutes.

"Masters?" Chris' father asked. "David Masters? He's a general now?"

"Yes, he is," Ron said. "Why, do you know him?"

"I met him some time ago, back when he was a lieutenant colonel," he said. "If it's the same guy I met, he was a piece of shit back then, too," he added, turning to Chloe's father. "You remember that crap pile we had to sort through in Somalia?" Chloe's father nodded his head. "I still think he was behind all that. Fucking politician." He glanced at Marilyn and Chloe. "Oops, sorry, girls."

"Go on, Ron," Mike said.

"Well, it turns out your wife and the general are on a cruise ship heading to the Mediterranean. They booked the cruise about two months ago and left Miami about three days before you got your orders in Africa. They were pretty easy to find, actually. According to the ship's manifest, they registered as 'Gen. and Mrs. D.A. Masters.'

"The general, by the way, IS married, but she was told her husband would be in the field and incommunicado for as long as a month. Thanks to new TSA regulations, I even have photos of them signing aboard the ship. Take a look," he said. The screen split into two windows, with Ron's face on one side and an image of Gen. Masters and Lynette on the other. Mike was furious. The general's arm was around Lynette's waist and they appeared to be a happily-married couple.

"There's more," Ron said. "I checked this cruise ship out, and it's one of those specialty deals that's all the rage now. It's an 'adult' cruise, which means, one, there are no children and, two, there's not much shuffleboard being played on the deck, if you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, Ron," Mike said. "I'm not into the new fad craze things. I'm just a simple guy, so can you spell that out a bit for me?"

"Sure, Mike, I understand," Ron said. "This may be a bit upsetting, so I'll try to keep it plain and simple. These things normally cater to the more well-to-do crowd, the type of people with lots of money who live a flashier lifestyle. This particular cruise has lots of, shall we say, adult, parties, clothing-optional swimming areas, and events with lots of swinging and that type of thing. In short, it's practically a floating orgy." Everyone in the room gasped. Even Chris and Chloe -- no strangers to public nudity or sex -- were surprised that Mike's wife would participate in something like this with someone other than her husband.

"I'll send you a copy of the cruise's event schedule. You'll find it... interesting. Anyway, the parent company does what it can to keep itself from getting tangled in extra-marital situations, even requiring passengers to present signed papers showing they're free of STDs and requiring them to sign papers releasing the cruise, the crew or the company from any liability, but as you can imagine, it doesn't always work out," Ron said.

"So, is there proof that my wife has been intimate with the general?" Mike asked. Ron nodded his head.

"I'm afraid so, Mike," he said. "It took me a little while to get legal access to the ship's systems. I could've just hacked my way in, but I figured you'd need something that can be used in court. Fortunately, the phrase, 'in the interest of national security' goes a long way to opening doors and gaining access to otherwise 'secure' cameras and video archives.

"I was able to access their on-board cameras and all of their archived videos. This is something required by DHS as well as the parent company in the event of situations just like this. I won't show anything explicit here but I can forward that to your private email if you wish," he said. Mike nodded and sent Ron his private email address.

"Here's something you should really find interesting," Ron said. A picture of Lynette and David in bed appeared. They were both covered, but it was clear they were both naked. Lynette had a tablet device in her hands. Mike noticed the date/time stamp in the corner.

"Hold that one just a minute," he said, pulling out his tablet. He compared the time stamp on the photo to the time stamp on the short exchange he had with Lynette while in Africa. They matched perfectly. The bitch, he thought. She was in bed with Masters while texting her husband.

"This one has video attached to it," Ron said. "Listen to what they're saying." The picture went to video and everyone watched as Lynette angrily pounded on the tablet. A few seconds later, she tossed the thing on her night stand and angrily held up her middle finger.

"That fucking bastard," she said. "Fuck him and fuck his stupid family. Who does he think he is telling me what's going to happen. I swear, I don't know what's worse, him or that stupid fucking sister of his." David responded as he stroked her hair. Mike looked at Marilyn, who appeared ready to explode.

"Is that why you took the battery out of your phone after we left the Bahamas?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, I was getting sick and tired of hearing from his sister wanting to plan things for his and Brian's birthday," she said.

"It's alright, dear," he said. "You don't have to deal with them if you don't want to. Your husband will be back in Africa in 45 days and I can personally see to it that he gets taken care of for good." Lynette smiled.

"I don't want him dead, David." she said. "I still have some feelings for him."

"Well then, if you have feelings for him, why are you here on the 'Orgy Boat' with me and not him? Why not just divorce him and be done with it?" he asked.

"You know why, David. He's not a bad guy and he does treat me right. It's just that all I ever hear is how wonderful and loving his parents are and how great his siblings are. It makes me want to puke sometimes. He's always talking about how smart his brother is and how he's so proud of him graduating at the top of his class at West Point. I can't really compete with all that," she said. "Besides, his family is fucking loaded. Between his grandparents and his father being a best-selling author, he'll end up having enough to buy an island if he wants. I'd be crazy to give that up."

"Okay, whatever you say," David said. "But if he gives you any shit, any at all, you let me know and I'll see to it he gets in a pile of crap he'll never be able to escape from."

"You mean, he won't come home?" Lynette asked.

"He'll come home, but it'll be in a flag-draped box headed for Dover," David said. "Don't worry, friendly-fire incidents happen all the time. He'll get some medals, get buried in a national cemetery someplace and you can collect his life insurance after playing the grieving widow. You can handle that, right?" Lynette smiled.

"Yeah, I can turn on the tears for the cameras," she said. "Now come here and give me some loving." David smiled at her.

"That's right, you have a tournament tonight, don't you? You're determined to win that thing, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I am, and I intend to be fully rested. There's over 3,000 guys on this ship, and I intend to have as many of them fill me up as possible," she said. David laughed.

"My, you are a little slut, aren't you?" he asked. She smiled and nodded her head. "Well, just so long as I get to be at the front of the line." They kissed, then settled down to get some sleep. The video faded to black. Everybody was shocked at what they just heard. Who was this woman, they all wondered.

"What did she mean about a tournament?" Mike asked.

"That's explained in the ship's schedule of events I emailed you," Ron said. "I'd rather not go into it here, but we can discuss it privately later on if you wish."

"Ron, this has got to be an expensive cruise," Chris said. "How are they paying for it?"

"Excellent question, Chris," Ron said. "You're right, these cruises are extremely expensive. I haven't had a chance to dig that deep, but I have several bots working the problem now. When I know, you guys will know." Ron turned to Mike.

"Listen, Mike, this is all going to be a huge shock to you," he said. "Once we get as many details as we can, you and I will need to discuss strategy going forward. I expect that you'll be filing for divorce."

"Absolutely," Mike said. Ron nodded his head.

"I think that's a wise course of action. Dealing with the general, however, is going to be tricky," he said. "Normally, you could file charges under the UCMJ and let Army CID handle it. Problem is that General Masters is very well connected. I'm talking White House-level connections here. If you go into this ham-handed, you could end up either dead or buried in red tape at Fort Leavenworth." Mike nodded his head. "You can't just fix bayonets and charge."

"I understand," he said. Chris' father spoke up.

"Look, Ron, we still have some connections in the intel community and the Secret Service," he said. "If there's anything we can do, let us know. This dirtbag needs to pay." Ron nodded his head.

"Thanks, I may just take you up on that," he said. "Guys, I'd better get back to work. Mike, I've sent a bunch of stuff for you to look at and I'll keep you informed as things progress."

"Thanks, Ron, I appreciate it," Mike said. Everyone else joined in as Ron ended the call. After Ron hung up, everyone sat in shock at what they had just learned. Marilyn was the first to speak.

"I'm sorry, Mike," she said, tears running down her cheeks.

"What for?" he asked. "You didn't do anything."

"I called her, hoping we could plan something for yours and Brian's birthday. I always loved her like a sister and I thought she'd be happy to do something with us," she said. "I always wondered why she kept putting me off. Now I know why. That BITCH. I hate her!" Mike put an arm around his sister.

"It's okay, sis," he said. "None of this is your fault. Got it?" She nodded her head.

"I got it, Mike," she said. Chris' father came up to Mike and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Mike, listen, son," he said. "I know it's gonna get rough for you. Just know that the whole family is with you on this. Those bastards fuck with one of us, they fuck with all of us. I know what kind of soldier you are, and I'm damn proud of you. But that Ron fella is right. You can't just go in with guns a-blazing. You gotta out-think those bastards. We'll do everything we can from our end. But if you need to talk, come on over and we'll kill a couple six packs over a game or something. Understand?" Mike nodded his head and smiled.

"I understand, Pops," he said. "Thanks."

"Hey, Pops, what about me?" Brian said, smiling. "I could go for some of your homemade beer myself." The old man smiled.

"Well, hell, why not?" he said, laughing. "You did graduate at the top of your class at West Point. I reckon you've earned a beer or two." He waved as he and Chris' mother left. Chloe's parents also comforted Mike on their way out.

Soon, it was just Chris, Chloe, Amy and the three siblings. They sat in shock until Mike's tablet buzzed, indicating incoming messages. He checked and saw three fairly large emails from Ron. One message had documents attached while the others had video. He opened the documents and began reading, his eyes growing wide as he looked over the ship's event schedule. He turned to his parents.

"Dad, Mom, can we talk?" he asked. Brian sensed what was coming and turned to Marilyn.

"Hey, sis," he said, "challenge you to a game of pool volleyball." She looked at him and smiled.

"You're on, Mr. West Point. I'm not 11 anymore, so I'll probably beat your ass," she said, running upstairs to change. Brian followed, seeing the look of appreciation on his brother's face.

"Sure, Mike, what is it?" Chloe asked after the other two left. Mike handed her his tablet so she could look at the schedule.

"Look at this," he said. "What the hell is all this?" Chris looked at the tablet with Chloe and Amy joined them. Their faces turned red and their eyes grew wide.

"Oh my God," Amy said. "We were wild when we were younger, but this is way over the top." Chloe nodded her head.

"I agree," she said. The schedule included all-night orgies, contests where female passengers masturbated, with the goal of seeing who could squirt the farthest upon orgasm, BDSM seminars and a host of similarly-themed events.

There were a number of other events, some fairly tame, but what caught their attention was what the cruise called a "creampie gangbang tournament," an ongoing contest where women competed to see who could take the most from the most number of men. Contestants gathered every other night and all but the top three women were eliminated. Those who won would move to the next round until only three remained. Those three women would then compete to become the cruise's "Creampie Gangbang Queen."

Mike saw that Ron had given him a set of credentials into the ship's intranet, and logged in. Looking around, he saw that Lynette had been in the top three for each event she participated in. Next to her name was a number -- 175. He assumed that meant she had taken 175 loads of cum in her various orifices. He felt sick at the thought.

He pulled up one of the videos Ron had sent, and quickly spotted Lynette. Video from one of the ship's crew, apparently taken with a body camera, showed her on her back with a giant black cock in her pussy and another cock in her mouth.

After they filled her, two more men took their place. At one point, she put one man under her and eased onto his giant unprotected member, then spread her legs and let another man squeeze his cock inside her pussy. Turning her head, she opened her mouth and sucked a third man to orgasm.

After the two men thrust inside her for a while, they each filled her with sperm. She lifted up and two more men took their place. Everyone at the table was disgusted with the display she was putting on. Amy looked closely at Lynette's face.

"Chloe, take a look at her eyes," she said. "Is it just me or does she look like she's on something?" Chloe looked and nodded her head.

"It sure looks like she could have been dosed with something. I don't see how anyone could keep doing what she's doing for as long as she's been doing it otherwise," she said.

"Yeah, I've seen that at the ER a few times," Amy said. "Girls come in after being up on that new Super-E stuff that's been going around. That's pretty dangerous. They lose a lot of weight and after they've been off of it for a while they start hallucinating. I've even heard of girls killing themselves after they've been dosed."

"My God, her body's probably ruined by now. And I don't see anyone using any protection whatsoever," Chloe said.

"I don't see Masters anywhere in this video," Chris said. "Could be he's moved on down the line to check out the competition."

Mike shut down his tablet in frustration.

"I've seen enough," he said. Chris pulled out his wallet and handed his son a card.

"Here's a number for the meanest lawyer in the state," he said. "She hates cheaters with a passion and I'm sure she'll do a good job for you." Mike took the card and thanked his father. "Listen, why don't you go get settled in then join me out back for a smoke and a glass of wine. We can watch your sister kick Brian's ass in the pool." Mike smiled.

"Sure, Dad," he said. "That sounds like fun." He left the table and took his stuff upstairs. Calling the attorney, he got an appointment for the next day. After putting everything away, he went back down and joined his father on the deck and enjoyed a flavored cigar while watching Marilyn and Brian chasing a ball in the pool.

"Your sister's actually gotten quite good at this over the years," Chris said. "She's given your mother and I a run for our money more than a few times."

Mike laughed as Marilyn spiked the ball over the net, causing it to land just out of Brian's reach. She started jumping up and down, splashing her brother.

"My game!" she shouted. "I win!" Brian splashed her back and the two began laughing and chasing each other in the pool the way they used to when they were younger. Mike smiled, enjoying the scene playing out before him. For a moment, he forgot his troubles with Lynette.

After dinner and a brief celebration of the children's birthdays, Brian was in his room changing and glanced out his window, which overlooked the family's back yard. He saw Mike heading into the woods with his tablet and something else -- a .45 caliber pistol strapped to his belt. It looked like the old M1911 his grandfather had given him when he graduated from the Virginia Military Institute. Brian didn't want to pry, but the presence of the pistol concerned him. He had a pretty good idea where his brother was headed, so he went downstairs and took off into the woods.

He stayed far enough back so his brother wouldn't notice him and quietly crept through the woods. Sure enough, he saw Mike sitting on a large rock which was part of a "fort" the two boys put together when they were younger. It was in a quiet area of the woods and became a favorite spot for the two to sit and talk without being overheard.

As he watched, he saw his brother look at the tablet, apparently at a video Ron had sent him. Then he saw something he never thought he would ever see -- his big brother, the strongest man he ever knew, crying. He sobbed uncontrollably, his head down in his hands, his body shaking.

After a few minutes, Mike stopped crying and slowly pulled the pistol out of its holster. Brian became concerned as he watched his brother insert a magazine and pull the slide, letting it slam home. He knew there was now a bullet in the chamber. As he watched, Mike slowly and tearfully put the barrel of the pistol in his mouth.
Brian knew he had to act, now. He stepped out from behind the tree where he hid and approached his brother.

"That's not how you're supposed to handle that sidearm, Captain," he said loudly, causing Mike to look up, surprised. He held out his hand as he approached Mike. "Give me that thing before you hurt yourself," he said.

Mike looked at the pistol before handing it to his brother. Brian took the weapon, removed the magazine and cleared the chamber, leaving the slide locked back. He looked in the chamber the way he was taught to make sure there wasn't anything else in the chamber before setting it down. He sat down and looked at his big brother.

"What's wrong with me, Brian?" Mike asked. "Was I not good enough for her? What made her do this to me, to us?" Brian shook his head.

"Nothing's wrong with you, Mike," Brian said. "Hell, you're the strongest, best man I've ever known. As for Lynette, who the hell knows why she's doing this." He looked at the tablet and noticed a video playing. "Is this from Ron?" he asked. Mike nodded his head. Brian picked the tablet up and looked at the video of Lynette taking two cocks in her pussy and another in her mouth. He turned it off and set the tablet down, shaking his head.

"Dump her, Mike, just get rid of her," Brian said. "She doesn't deserve you. And that general can go fuck himself as well. She's not worth this," he added, pointing to the pistol. Mike looked at his brother. Deep down, he knew the younger man was right.

"When did you get so fucking smart?" he asked, causing Brian to smile.

"Well, you know, four years of West Point does that to ya. I'd tell you all the usual platitudes, but I know you've already heard them. Hell, you've probably used them on your own soldiers. Right?" he asked. Mike shook his head.

"Yeah. No woman's worth this, you deserve better, keep your head in the game, blah, blah, blah. It's all well and good until it happens to you," he said. He looked around at the all-too familiar trees around them. "You remember all the times we used to come out here and chase 'bad guys' when we were kids? You always had my back in those days. Still do, I guess."

"Isn't that what brothers are for?" Brian asked. "You know, Marilyn's already plotting to set you up with one of her younger, single teachers." Mike laughed.

"She's a lot like Mom, isn't she?" he asked.

"Yeah, she is. Hey, what do you say we blow this joint tomorrow and go hit the town, see what we can scare up? Maybe go grab a brew or two?" Brian asked.

"You old enough to drink now?" Mike asked, laughing.

"Trying humor now, are you?" Brian asked in response.

"Well, when you make Captain, you can do it too," Mike said. "What the hell. If Lynette can have her fun, so can we."

"That's the spirit," Brian said. "C'mon, let's get home. It's starting to get late."

"Promise you won't say anything about all this?" Mike asked.

"About what?" Brian asked. Mike smiled and hugged his brother.

"I'll take that," Mike said, reaching for the pistol. Brian handed it to him but kept the magazine.

"I'll hang on to this if you don't mind," he said. Mike nodded his head as he put the pistol in its holster.

Chloe and Amy looked up as the two brothers walked in the back door.

"There you guys are," Chloe said. "Where were you? We were starting to get worried."

"Just out doing some male bonding stuff, you know," Brian said.

"Uh huh," Chloe said, her eyebrows raised. "Sure." She saw the pistol strapped on Mike's belt. "Find any bad guys to blow away out there in the woods?"

"Well, you never know what could be hiding out back there," Brian said. Mike smiled as he put the pistol back in his father's gun case. Brian put the magazine next to it and locked the case.

"Right," Chloe said. "Why don't you guys join us for a quick game of Monopoly?" she asked.

"Is there such a thing as a quick game of Monopoly?" Mike asked. Marilyn slapped his arm as she pulled out the game board and began doling out the pieces and fake money.

"Why not?" Brian asked. "Marilyn owes me for that volleyball game, after all."

"Careful, buster," she said. "I'm the banker, you know."

"God help us," Brian said, smiling. They played Monopoly until well into the morning and finally drifted off to bed.

The next day, Mike went to the attorney's office and began the process to divorce his wife. The attorney, Sally Chesterfield, was an absolute shark and nearly blew a gasket when she heard Mike's story and watched some of the video Mike showed her.

The divorce would be pretty simple, as divorces go. They didn't own any real estate and lived in base housing, so there wasn't a mortgage or a house to consider. They had no children, which meant no child support. Lynette actually made more than Mike, so there wouldn't be any alimony. They would each keep what they brought into the marriage, split the bank accounts in half and keep their own retirement.

Mike insisted the divorce be filed on grounds of adultery and decided not to press the general for alienation of affection, since those charges hardly ever produced any results, the attorney said. They decided to have Lynette served as soon as she stepped off the cruise ship in Miami.

"This should be pretty simple," Sally said. "We'll see what your wife does after she gets served. What are you planning to do about the general?"

"Well, there's certainly some violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, but we're looking at possibly taking other actions. We haven't decided on a plan of action at this point, as we're still gathering more information," Mike said. Sally nodded her head.

"Good idea," she said. "You're not planning to do anything stupid to get revenge are you? Because if you are, that'll mess up your case big time." Mike shook his head.

"No, not planning anything. I just want the cheating slut out of my life," he said.

"Good," she said. "What about the cruise line? Do you want to take any action against them?"

"I don't know," Mike said. "You're the attorney. Do what you think is best." She nodded her head.

"Well, they did facilitate your wife's escapades without properly verifying her and General Masters' claim to be married. We could file a lawsuit. Chances are, they'll settle out of court, but it could net you a million or two," she said.

"I'll leave that up to you," he said.

"Okay," she said. "I'll work it up and get all this filed and arranged to have her served when the ship pulls back into port. If you have any questions for me or any additional information other than what we already know, give me a call, okay?"

"Sounds good," Mike said. "Thanks for all your help."

"My pleasure," she said. "And tell your father I'm anxious to see his next book."

After returning home, he received a text message. Ron wanted to confer with him and his parents at their earliest convenience. Since they were already home, having taken vacation time to spend with family, Chris made the call and put Ron on the big screen television in their living room.

"Good afternoon, Ron," Chris said. "What have you got for us?"

"Good afternoon, everyone," Ron said. "I have more information I think you may find interesting. I've already sent Mike the latest videos from the ship but I think we've uncovered something else. As you know, I've had bots running down the finances behind this. You've heard the saying, 'follow the money,' right? Well, it looks like at least some of this was funded with government money, and it appears that the general and Lynette may have misappropriated those funds. It also appears that some of the money came from foreign sources. I'll send the documents to back that up, but I've also made initial inquiries to Army CID.

"There's more. I've had another set of bots running facial recognition on the passengers in the videos. It turns out that at least two of the passengers are actually agents of the terror group you're fighting in Africa, Mike," he said.

"What?" Mike asked. "Are they connected to General Masters?" Ron nodded his head.

"I've identified at least two videos in which Masters meets with the passengers in question. The meetings are very short and they don't seem to spend much time talking to each other, but I did identify one in which it seems they're exchanging something. Money, possibly, or drugs. Maybe both. I'm not completely certain of that yet, but I'm running enhancement software on those clips," he said.

"So all of this is an elaborate ruse for Masters to connect with foreign agents?" Chris asked.

"Possibly," Ron said. "I'll be able to tell more once the videos are finished processing."

"But to what end?" Mike asked. "Is Masters working for the terrorists?"

"I don't know yet," Ron said. "But it certainly doesn't look good. I'm reluctant to reach out to the intel folks until I have something more conclusive."

"Is it remotely possible that Masters is working undercover?" Chris asked. Ron shook his head.

"I doubt it," he said. "The government wouldn't use a well-known brigadier general and an untrained administrative aide for something like this. The CIA and others have assets that would be far more suitable for an operation of this type. Like I said, this is all just conjecture at this point, but it looks very suspicious."

"Is Lynette involved in this?" Mike asked. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"She could be, but I suspect she's just cover and Masters is using her. That's not to say there's not an affair -- obviously, there is, but maybe that's just the tip of the iceberg," he said.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Mike asked.

"Keep doing what you're doing," he said. "I see you've filed for divorce. That's good. Don't go anywhere near the general. I've seen to it that video of his activities with Lynette have been sent to the general's wife, and she's not very happy. She's also filing for divorce, so maybe they can both be served when the ship returns. I would advise that you get home a bit early so you can cover your bases and confront her when she gets back." Mike nodded.

"Understood," he said. "When is the ship coming back?"

"According to the schedule I have, June 15," he said. Mike figured that he could stay at home for a couple days to celebrate with family and take his time heading back. That would give him plenty of time to get his affairs in order before Lynette showed up.

"At any rate, that's what I have as of now," Ron said. "If I find out more, I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Ron, we all appreciate it," Chris said before ending the call. Chris turned to his son. "So, what are your plans?"

"I'll stay another couple days, then head back," he said. "I have to make some changes to my personnel file so Lynette doesn't benefit in the event of my death and take care of my personal stuff. After I confront Lynette, I'll be going to Fort Benning."

Mike made the most of the next two days with his family. He spent an evening with his brother at a local club, drinking and dancing with several women and treated his sister to dinner and a movie. He spent most of the rest of his time with his parents and "Aunt" Amy and took his grandfather up on his offer of homemade beer.

The visit ended with lots of tears, hugs, kisses and promises to keep them all informed on the latest developments. He did participate in one last briefing with Ron, who confirmed the general was surreptitiously making unsanctioned contacts with agents of the terrorists he was fighting in Africa. Ron informed him that everything he collected had been handed over to the proper authorities along with certain influential members of the current administration.

"It may take a bit, but General Masters will be dealt with, Mike," he said. "Let me know when you get back to base and I'll arrange for you to get a view of the two lovers getting served if you want."

"Thanks, Ron, I'll take you up on that," Mike said.

After driving two days, Mike found himself back at his government-subsidized house in "Officer's Country," and began to separate himself from Lynette. Ron continued sending videos, which he scanned through and kept track of Lynette's progress in her sleazy "tournament." She was still in the top of all her brackets and was well on the way to winning her questionable prize, he noticed. The number by her name had now grown to well over 300.

He went to his battalion admin and changed his next-of-kin and his insurance beneficiary, taking Lynette off and stipulating that after final expenses, the remainder was to be placed in a college fund for Marilyn.

He went home and began packing his personal gear for shipment back to Springfield, where his parents would keep it in storage until he needed it. He decided to leave the electronics, at least for now.

Then the day came when Lynette's ship returned to port. He logged into the cruise's intranet and observed that his soon-to-be ex-wife had won the title of "Creampie Gangbang Queen" and was handed a check and given a colorful sash and a tiara decorated with fake diamonds. She posed nude for the photos and he couldn't help but notice that she looked extremely thin as compared to when he last saw her. The number next to her name now read 450, making him sick to his stomach.

Ron contacted him and gave him a web address where he could watch his wife and the general get served with divorce papers. He logged in and watched the passengers leave the giant boat. As he watched, he saw Lynette moving slowly down the gangplank with David. She looked as though she was having a lot of trouble walking and David gently guided her down.

Once they reached the pier, two men in suits approached them. He heard one ask his wife to identify herself as Lynette Weber. After she said yes, the man handed her a manila envelope and simply said, "you've been served."

Another man, similarly-attired, approached David and repeated the performance. After he confirmed he was David Masters, the man handed him an envelope. They looked inside and realized they had been served with divorce papers citing adultery. The packets also included a small stack of photos that had been entered as evidence against them.

Lynette wailed as she looked through the papers, crumpling to the ground. Other passengers looked at them as they left the gangplank, but didn't offer any assistance. David screamed, yelled and made threats.

"I'm going to fucking kill that bastard husband of yours myself," he screamed. "He's dead. Hear me? DEAD!" He composed himself enough to help Lynette to her feet and they left the area. Ron called as soon as they disappeared from view.

"Did you see that?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," Mike said.

"I captured that, especially the part where Masters threatened to kill you," Ron said. "I'll be including that in my brief to CID."

"Good, thanks," Mike said.

"They went there in a private chartered aircraft, so I expect they'll return the same way," Ron added. "I expect they'll be back in your area in about two and a half hours, give or take."

"Thanks," Mike said. "That's all the time I need."

After ending the call, Mike made sure his pistol was loaded and placed it in his belt holster, then packed all of his gear for the drive to Fort Benning. Then he set about removing any evidence of his marriage to Lynette, slashing the giant marriage portrait on the wall and destroying the elaborate set of "his" and "hers" glasses they received on their wedding day.

He pulled her wedding dress from the closet along with their wedding album. He turned the fireplace on, not caring if it made the room warmer than normal for this time of year. Looking at his watch, he expected her to walk in at any minute.

Sure enough, she walked in as he tossed her dress, veil and wedding album into the fire. He looked at her with hatred in his eyes.

"About goddamn time you got back home, bitch," he growled. She looked like she had lost at least fifteen pounds and her face was sunken in, her eyes red, her face blotchy. "God, you look like shit."

She wailed as she saw her dress go up in flames. She saw the slashed portrait on the wall and the broken crystal, all that was left of her precious glass set.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"I'm getting rid of anything that says we were ever married, you cheating good-for-nothing cunt," he said. She recoiled from him. He had never talked like that to her.

"Why are you wearing your granddad's pistol?" she asked.

"In case your asshole lover tries to kill me. That's what you wanted, isn't it? Me dead and gone so you can have my insurance? Well, fuck you, you whore. I've changed everything so you don't get shit. That's right, not one fucking red cent," he said. "Not even the flag that'll drape my coffin."

"Why are you talking to me like that," she cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Because I fucking HATE YOUR GUTS right now, that's why!" he yelled. "I've done nothing but love you, adore you, worship the fucking ground you walk on, and for what? Huh? WHAT? So you can be with General Fuckwad and go on some fucking cruise and become a goddamn Creampie Gangbang Queen? Is that how you want to be remembered? Well, you got your wish. You got what, 450 men to cum inside your diseased twat? Or more? Was our marriage fucking worth it to you?"

"Mike, please, don't talk to me like this," she sobbed. He looked at her crumpled body on the floor.

"You'd better get your shit together, bitch," he said. "I'm leaving here for Fort Benning when we're done here and I hope to God I never lay eyes on you again. The thought of you makes me wanna fucking puke." He paused and took a breath before continuing. "Tell me, did David give you something to get through that fucking tournament you were in?"

"You know about that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I know all about it," he said. "I even have videos of it. All of it. Every fuck, every suck, every insult against me and my family, everything. And it makes me sick. So answer my goddamn question. Did he give you something?"

"Yes," she stammered. "He said they were vitamins to give me strength."

"Vitamins, huh?" Mike asked. "You know my mother and aunt are both nurses. They said you looked like you'd been dosed with some kind of super sex drug. Warned that it could have serious consequences. You'd better get checked out and you should also get tested for STDs."

"STDs?" she asked. "Everyone had to show something saying they had no STDs." Mike laughed.

"Right, like those can't possibly be forged," he said.

"Your mother and Aunt Amy saw me?" she cried.

"Yeah, they did. And they were disgusted," he said. She shook her head as tears fell. "What the fuck are you crying for?" he asked. "You knew what you were doing when you went on that boat. You knew when you insulted me and spread your legs for all those men."

"Please, Mike," she said, "can't we just get past this?"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he asked, his voice growing loud. He pointed to the letters still on the table. "Look at this. Every letter I sent you while I was in Africa and you haven't even read them. I can count the letters and emails I got from you on one hand. Every time I turn around you're gone with that fucker. Then you lied to me and I find you on a fucking sex cruise. Why? Just tell me that one thing. Why?" She shook her head.

"Honestly, Mike?" she asked.

"Honesty from you for once would be a welcome change," he said.

"I honestly don't really know. You're always gone, and David was here. He showed me some attention and made me feel good. It just went from there," she said.

"Well, who the fuck do you think sent me and my men to all those places, huh?" he asked. "You knew I would be deployed when you married me. Hell, you work with him at the fucking Pentagon. What did you think? That I purposefully made our enemies declare war on us so I could leave you for months at a time? What the fuck goes on in that little pea-brain of yours anyway?"
"I don't know sometimes, Mike. I'm sorry, really I am," she said.

"Yeah, you are," he said.

"How long has this shit been going on?" he asked.

"I don't know, exactly. Maybe seven or eight months," she said. Mike nodded his head. That pretty much fit in with what he observed.

"Does anyone else know about all this?" she asked.

"My family. Your family knows by now. I wasn't about to have you try to blame me for this so I leveled with them. Your friends and some others," he said.

"Oh my God, you told my family about this?" she asked. He nodded his head.

"Yeah, I did. Sent them a few pictures as proof," he said. She began crying again.

"You sent pictures?" she asked. "I'll never live this down. You were never supposed to know. No one was. Did you tell David's wife, too?"

"No, I never contacted her. Someone else did," he said. "Look, just sign the fucking papers and send them back. There's no support, you get to keep what's yours and I get to keep what's mine. The bank account gets split in two and we each keep our retirement funds. Since we're still legally married, you can probably stay here until the divorce becomes final. Then it's up to you to move everything out. I don't want anything here. For now, you're still working, so you should be okay. That is, unless they decide to investigate your little vacation with Masters." He took his wedding ring off and tossed it to her.

"What's this?" she asked.

"I don't want it anymore. You keep it. Sell it, eat it, shove it up your fucking ass, I don't care," he said.

"Do you want my rings?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No, they would only remind me of you," he said. "You keep them, toss them in the trash, whatever. I don't care. I just want you out of my life."

"Can we ever be friends?" she asked. He shook his head again.

"I don't know. Honestly, right now, I don't think so, Lynette," he said. "I loved you with all my heart and you ripped it out. You might as well have put a bullet in my head. Friends don't do to each other what you did to me and my family."

"Can you at least forgive me?" she asked.

"Again, I don't know," he said. "Maybe one day. It hurts too much to even think about it right now."

"I'm sorry, Mike," she said.

"Yeah, you said that," he told her. "Look, I'd better be going now. Sign the papers and send them back. Tell your lover if he fucks with me or my family it'll be the last fucking thing he ever does. Don't call me, don't text me. I don't want to hear from you anymore." He got up and headed for the door before turning back to her.

"One last thing. Marilyn -- you know, my 'stupid fucking sister' as you called her -- loved you and thought of you as the big sister she never had. She gave me a message to pass on to you," he said.

"What's that?" Lynette asked.

"Eat shit and die," he said. "Goodbye, Lynette," he said, closing the door as she cried on the floor.

He got in his car and headed out. He stopped for the night and got a motel room, taking time out to call his parents and Ron, who updated him on the situation.

"How did things go with your wife?" Ron asked.

"About the way I thought it would," Mike said. "She doesn't look good at all, though."

"Sorry to hear that," Ron said. "I'm still putting the finishing touches on all this, but my contact at the CIA tells me the man Masters met on the ship is a known operative for the terrorists with questionable contacts all over the Middle East. A real bad guy. And it looks like their trip was paid for with taxpayer funds co-mingled with laundered money from Africa."

"So, General Masters was working with the terrorists?" Mike asked.

"I can't say on an unsecured line, but let's just say this little excursion of theirs has captured the attention of a lot of very important people," Ron said.

"Gotcha," Mike said. "Well, we'll see how things go from here. Thanks for all your help, Ron, I appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you? I owe you so much."

"Nah," Ron said. "Just come back home safe, okay?"

"Will do my best," Mike said, ending the call. The next day, he continued to Fort Benning, arriving late in the afternoon. He checked into the Bachelor Officer's Quarters and settled in for the night.

The next day, he met with the advance party and found 1^st Sgt. Roberts, who had arrived a day before him. They spent the next few days making sure everything was ready for the company's arrival and Mike looked over the personnel jackets of the replacements. From what he could tell, they all looked to be good soldiers who would fit in well with the "old-timers."

The company arrived on time, having finished their 30-day leave. Mike and the 1^st Sgt spent the next few days taking them out for training jumps and maneuvers. Mike met with the replacements, interviewing them on an individual basis, happy to learn that his initial assessment of them was correct.

On the day they flew out to Africa, Gen. Masters sidled up to Mike acting like John Wayne with a condescending smirk on his face.

"Hope you enjoyed your leave," David said. Mike said nothing. "Talk to your wife lately?" Mike looked at him with hatred in his eyes. Masters noticed and turned to face him full on.

"Alright, Weber," he said. "Why don't we take our rank off and just deal with this man-to-man?" he asked.

"No," Mike said. "Don't play that game with me. That star is the only thing keeping you alive right now." David looked shocked as Mike continued. "Let's get one thing straight. This is MY command, General. These men follow my orders. You're just a fucking observer, so don't ever forget it. You're no tactician, you're just a fucking politician with brass. You know it, I know it and what's more, the men know it as well. Once we get on that plane, you're part of MY command. You will follow my orders to the letter and you will carry your part of the load just like everyone else. If you disobey, interfere or disrespect me in front of my men in any way, shape, matter or form, or bring up your sleazy affair with my soon-to-be ex-wife, so help me God, I'll personally kill you where you stand.

"Do you understand me?" he asked David, whose eyes were wide by now. "I said, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME, SOLDIER?" he shouted. David nodded his head, truly scared of the big man in front of him.

"Yes," he finally said.

"Yes, WHAT?" Mike asked.

"Yes...sir," David responded, realizing that he had been beaten by a better man. Mike nodded his head.

"One last thing," he said. "Since this is MY command, I am always the first one on the field and the last one off. This is no exception. This isn't the fucking Pentagon, so protocol be damned. You get on the plane before me and sit with me and my men."

"Very well," David said. "Just one question," he added.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Truthfully, did you contact my wife about the cruise?" David asked quietly. Mike shook his head.

"Honestly, General. No, I didn't. I've never even reached out to your wife. You can check the metadata yourself if you want proof," Mike said.

"I understand from Lynette you have video from the cruise," David said.

"Yes, I do," Mike said.

"Would it be possible to get a copy of it?" David asked.

"All the video has been turned over to the appropriate authorities," Mike said. "Your wife also has copies, so maybe your attorney should contact hers."

"Okay," David said. "Thanks for your candor."

"Any time, General," Mike said. 1^st Sgt. Roberts came up to them and saluted. David, being the senior officer, returned the salute.

"The men are on board the aircraft, sir," he said. Mike nodded.

"Thank you, First Sgt," he said. "Let's join them." The three men walked to the aircraft, their gear on their backs. 1^st Sgt Roberts entered the aircraft, followed by David. Mike looked around to make sure everything was secure and climbed on board, taking a seat with David and the 1^st Sgt.

Several hours later, the aircraft landed on the dusty strip next to the makeshift field camp. As the soldiers came off the plane, Mike could see mortar fire in the distance and heard the familiar sound of rifle fire. A colonel came up to Mike and showed him a map.

"We've been taking harassing fire all day, Captain," he said. "Our patrols tell us there's a large column coming in from the north. I know you just got here, but I need your men to intercept them and buy us some time. A regiment is moving in from the east but they won't be in place for a while yet. I'll have the engineers stage your gear here next to the runway and you can come back for it after you take care of that column. Think you can do that?" Mike nodded.

"Yes, sir," he said. He motioned for the 1^st Sgt and his platoon leaders. David started talking to the colonel about the situation and began walking away before Mike called him back.

"General, we'll need you to go out with us to get a better look at the situation," he said. The colonel saw the reaction on David's face. Clearly, he didn't want to get this close to the real action and the colonel could see fear on his face. David hesitated for a few seconds before the colonel spoke.

"Captain Weber is right, General," he said. "And he's going to need all the help he can get out there." David nodded his head, realizing he wouldn't be able to skate out of the situation the way he had done so many times before. He shuffled back to Mike and the others gathered around him. Mike gave him a look that could melt lead.

After conferring with the other company staff, Mike signaled for the company to form up. He looked at David.

"You ready for a walk in the park?" he asked. David's face was white with fear, but he nodded his head. "Good," Mike said. Taking his spot at the front of the loose formation with David, the 1^st Sgt and a radioman, he looked back at his men. They knew what was coming and were prepared. He smiled in pride. "Follow me," he said, turning back around.

"Hooah," he heard from the assembled troops. They headed out at a fast walk, following the road indicated on the map. David was a bit out of shape, unlike the hardened Special Forces soldiers behind him. Nevertheless, he refused to let them get the better of him and kept pace with Mike, breathing heavily as he walked.

Their objective was just two kilometers north of the camp, so they didn't have far to go. Mike knew the soldiers at the camp had been fighting a mostly defensive battle, so he decided to take a bit of a risk by splitting up his company to attack using a classic "hammer and anvil" maneuver.

He thought this would surprise the enemy enough to halt their advance. He also knew the regiment coming in from the east wouldn't be able to engage for at least a couple of hours. He gave the orders and the company split, with one group on the east side of the road and the other on the west.

They came upon the column and when Mike got confirmation that the second formation was in place, he gave the order to attack. His soldiers charged down the slope, firing as they went. The enemy, stunned, didn't know what to do. Some fired back, but others did exactly what he expected them to do -- turn around and head east, right into the waiting formation, which rained hell down on them.

Mike halted his advance and ordered his men to take cover behind a rock wall just above the road. They took their places and fired on the enemy below. Some of the enemy soldiers tried a flanking maneuver, but Mike's troops adapted and put a stop to that.

Soon, things settled down as most of the enemy soldiers ran back up the road in the direction they had come. The colonel, happy to hear the good news, ordered Mike to hold that section of the road until the regiment was in place.

They remained on-site and held the position, even though the enemy made several attempts to run the position with small trucks armed with machine guns and Iranian-supplied grenade launchers. During a brief lull in the fighting, Mike looked back and saw David, huddling next to a fallen tree trunk, shaking. He went to the general and noticed that he hadn't even loaded a magazine in his rifle. He pulled his pistol and knelt by David, disgusted by the public display of cowardice.

"Get your fucking ass on that line right now, general, or so help me, I'll blow your brains out right here," he hissed. David looked at Mike, his eyes filled with fear. "Fucking coward," he spit. The radioman approached Mike.

"Sir, there's a secure telecom for you from the States," he said. What the fuck now, Mike thought. He put on the headpiece the corporal handed to him. The eyepiece showed video of a very familiar man sitting behind a large wooden desk in what he knew was the Oval Office.

"Captain Weber," the President of the United States said.

"Yes, sir," Mike said in response.

"This is President Hastings. Is General Masters there with you?" he asked.

"Yes, he is, sir," Mike answered. The president nodded his head.

"Good," the president said. "I know you're up to your ass in alligators right now, but this is a direct order from your Commander-in-Chief. Do you understand?"

"Copy that, sir," Mike said.

"Very good," the president said. "I want you to place General Masters under arrest immediately. I'm sending you the arrest document now and it should be on your field printer any second. Any questions?"

"No sir," Mike said. "We're taking some fire right now, but I'll handle it personally." The president nodded.

"Thank you, Captain Weber," the president said. "Good hunting." The call ended and a piece of paper began coming out of the field comm unit. Mike grabbed it and read it over. He saw another soldier with a roll of duct tape on his web belt and motioned for him to follow. Coming back to David, Mike grabbed 1^st Sgt Roberts and motioned for him to follow as well. He stopped next to David.

"General Masters," he said, addressing David. "By order of the President of the United States, I am hereby placing you under arrest for violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, misappropriation of government property, fraud, conspiracy to commit murder, espionage, aiding and abetting the enemy and treason." He looked at the 1^st Sgt. "Secure this man's weapons," he ordered. "Corporal, bind this man's hands behind his back and keep an eye on him. Don't let him so much as move."

"Yes, sir," the corporal said, taping David's hands behind his back. Mike turned to the 1^st Sgt.

"First Sergeant, the first chance we get, I want this piece of shit out of my formation." Roberts nodded his head.

"Yes, SIR," he told Mike. At that moment, Mike heard a "thump" behind him. Turning around, he saw a grenade had landed on the ground behind them. It was one of those new Iranian grenades he had heard about before. Mike didn't think twice and instantly threw himself on the explosive as soldiers around them quickly hit the dirt.

As soon as he landed on the device, it exploded, tearing his body in two. Fortunately, his body and the armor he wore kept the shrapnel from hitting any other soldiers. After the explosion, everyone looked, shocked, as Mike exhaled for the last time.

The battle raged on, and the soldiers won -- their final tribute to the man they respected and admired as their commanding officer.

A day later, a family in Springfield learned their son had been killed in combat. As the officers consoled the family, a call came in. Chris put the call on his large television. A large man with four stars on his shoulders greeted them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weber," he said. "My name is General Johnson. I'm the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff calling you from the Pentagon and I wanted to personally extend my condolences to you for the loss of your son."

"Thank you, General, we appreciate that," Chris said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Mr. Weber, the president has taken a personal interest in your son's death. It seems he spoke to Captain Weber just a short time before he died," the general said. "I'm not at liberty to discuss that conversation, but I can tell you that the president is pushing for your son's medal to be fast-tracked through the system. We all owe you and your son a great debt of gratitude."

"We appreciate that, general," Chris said. "What medal are you referring to, by the way?"

"The Medal of Honor," the general said. "It seems your son threw himself on a grenade, saving the lives of many other soldiers. He gave his life so that others could live."

"I see," Chris said.

"I hope to see you at your son's funeral," the general said. "If you don't mind, I'd consider it an honor if you would allow me to personally accompany your son from Dover."

"That would be nice, general, thank you," Chris said. The general said his goodbyes and ended the call.

Later that same day, the rest of America heard the news. Lynette was sitting in what used to be the living room she had shared with her husband. She hadn't eaten much since coming back from the cruise and the house remained much as it was the day Mike walked out, the ashes from her wedding dress and photo album still in the fireplace.

She was still shaky and weak from whatever it was David had given her on the cruise, and she was still on the antibiotics her doctor gave her after tests showed she had been infected with several STDs. The tests also showed she had been given high dosages of a new form of date-rape drug, known as "Super-E."

She was unable to provide the names of most of the nearly 500 men she had sex with on the cruise, prompting federal authorities to shut down the cruise pending further investigation. The parent company of the cruise had responded to Mike's lawsuit with a large settlement offer and a threat to sue Lynette and David for fraud and misrepresentation.

A few days after her return, she was placed on administrative leave by the Defense Department pending the outcome of an investigation into her and David's activities. She wasn't told anything more than that, and warned that she could expect a visit from various agencies.

As she watched, the announcer told his audience there was breaking news from the front lines in Africa.

"Tonight, we have learned that a highly-placed general has been arrested for allegedly conspiring with the enemy in Africa. Brigadier General David Masters was arrested for a number of charges, which include conspiracy to commit murder, misappropriation of government property and treason. It's not known at this time if the charges are related to a cruise he reportedly took with an administrative aide in June."

Lynette gasped as David's picture was flashed on the screen. The announcer continued his report.

"His consort for that trip, a woman who worked for Masters, is also considered a person of interest in this case," he said. Lynette's eyes grew wide. She knew nothing of any plot to murder anyone, nor was she aware of any treasonous activity other than her disloyalty to her husband.

"In related news, a soldier identified as Captain Michael Weber, was killed in action in Africa, after he reportedly threw himself on a grenade, saving the lives of his fellow soldiers," the announcer said. The picture changed to show Chris' father, who spoke to a reporter.

"That's just like our Mike," he said, tears falling down his face. "He was a hell of a soldier and a damn good man. He'll be sorely missed." The broadcast returned to the announcer.

"Eyewitness News spoke to Capt. Weber's father, Pulitzer-prize winning photojournalist and New York Times best-selling author Chris Weber about his son," the announcer said.

"His passing leaves a huge hole in all of our hearts," Chris said as he sat with his wife Chloe. Both were wiping tears from their eyes. "No parent should ever have to bury a child." The report went back to the announcer.
"Capt. Weber is set to be buried at a national cemetery near his home town of Springfield. He is survived by his parents and grandparents, a brother who just graduated from the Military Academy at West Point and a sister. We have been told that General Avery Johnson, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, is set to personally accompany Capt. Weber's remains to the funeral site. Capt. Weber was the commanding officer of a recently formed company of Special Forces troops organized specifically to rapidly respond and deal with terrorists like those in Africa."

As the announcer ended his report, a picture of Mike in uniform appeared on screen. Lynette watched as the screen focused on his chiseled face, hard, resolute eyes looking out from under the green beret he had worked so hard to earn. The station placed Mike's name along with his date of birth and date of death beneath his face. A familiar song began to play in the background, a tune that dated back to the Vietnam War.

"Fighting Soldiers from the sky,

Fearless men who jump and die.

Men who mean just what they say,

The brave men of the Green Beret

Silver Wings upon their chest.

These are men -- America's best.

100 men will test today,

But only 3 win the Green Beret..."

Lynette began sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body shaking, hot tears streaming down her face. She noticed the report never mentioned that he was still married. Apparently, Mike really had removed her from his life.

"No, no, no, please God, no," she cried. "Please forgive me, God, please. I'm so sorry."

After a few minutes, her phone buzzed. She looked to see that the call was coming from Mike's phone number. How could that possibly be, she asked herself. But there it was. Her hands shaking, she answered.

"Hello," she said.

"It's okay, Lynette," said a quiet, calm voice that sounded just like her husband. "All is forgiven. I love you. Please, come join me. We can be together again, forever. It's nice here. You'll like it." The call ended as Lynette looked at her phone. She tried dialing the number back but got a message saying the number was no longer in service.

Her body still shaking, she made her way to her bedroom. Holding the last photo she had of her husband, she cried as she held it to her breast.

"Come, dear, join me," she heard Mike's voice whisper in her ear.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She put on her best nightgown and grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills she got earlier that day. She opened the bottle and swallowed all of the pills, washing them down with a glass of Scotch. She laid down, holding her husband's picture and closed her eyes.

"I'm coming, sweetheart," she said quietly as she fell asleep for the last time. She was found two weeks later when base housing personnel entered the house to collect Mike's belongings.

General David Masters saw the report from his tiny apartment on the base. After his arrest in Africa, he was relieved of his command, placed on house arrest and required to wear an ankle bracelet that monitored his movements. He knew that his goose was cooked. No one would speak to him, not even Lynette. The list of charges against him was a mile long, and he knew he'd be lucky to escape the death penalty.

He did have a friend here and there, however, and one of them managed to slip him a service revolver with a single bullet. He watched the report, changed the channel and saw the same report delivered by a different person. No matter what, he was finished. There was no telling what else might get uncovered if CID looked deeper into his flimsy record.

The Army, working with various intelligence agencies, had uncovered the network of enemy agents David worked with and had taken them out with a series of surgical strikes. The Defense Department, meanwhile, was working to assess and mitigate the damage caused by his actions. In the meantime, they had frozen all of his assets and stripped him of his security clearance. His wife's attorneys were also working to destroy him financially.

He looked at the revolver and steeled himself to embrace his fate. Better to eat a bullet now than be Bubba's bitch for the rest of his miserable life, he thought. If anyone remembered his name at all, it would probably be right along with the likes of Benedict Arnold. The thought made him shiver. He picked up the revolver, ran his hand over the shiny metal, put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

He was found an hour later when military policemen responded to a "shots fired" call from the apartment complex.

General Johnson kept his word and accompanied Mike's body to the funeral service. It seemed that half of Springfield showed up to pay their last respects. A number of soldiers, many wearing the signature green beret, also showed up and shared stories with Chris and his family.

The preacher gave a stirring message, but one passage he read struck Chris. It was a passage from the Bible, John 15:13, which read, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." That fit Mike perfectly, he thought, wiping a tear from his eye.

Several soldiers talked about their service with Mike, how he had helped them through one tough spot or another or how he made them all laugh. Several others spoke about Mike, all of them recalling positive memories.

Brian, wearing his dress uniform, spoke about growing up with his brother, how he always wanted to be a soldier just like Mike and had always hoped the two would serve together fighting a common enemy. The battle-hardened Green Berets nodded in appreciation as the young newly-commissioned second lieutenant spoke.

First Sgt. Roberts, wearing his full dress uniform, spoke to the crowd.

"I'm a simple man, so I'll make this short and sweet. I've served with a lot of soldiers in my life," he said. "But Capt. Weber was the best man I've ever served with." He looked up. "God, I don't know if you can hear me, but if you need someone to storm the gates of Hell, here he is." He looked at Brian, stepped down and walked to him with a small box.

"Lieutenant," he said. "Your brother spoke of you a lot. He was damn proud of you, the way you graduated first at West Point. Said he'd love it if the two of you could serve together. I think he'd like you to have this," he said, handing Brian the box. Brian opened it and saw Mike's beret, neatly folded, with his shiny rank insignia still pinned on the unit patch. He looked at the 1^st Sgt, choking back his emotions.

"Thank you, 1^st Sgt," he said, shaking the man's hand.

"Who knows, Lieutenant, maybe one day you'll put one of those on yourself," Roberts said. Brian smiled and nodded his head before sitting back down.

After arriving at the cemetery, Chris and Chloe watched as the burial detail carefully folded the flag covering Mike's coffin. An officer carried the flag to Chloe and knelt as he handed it to her. Looking at her with compassion in his eyes, he said a few words. Standing before her, he raised his hand slowly to salute.

Chris and Chloe jumped as the detail fired their salute and tears ran down their face when "Taps" was played. After the service was over and Mike's body was laid in its grave, Chris, Chloe, Amy, Brian and Marilyn walked to their car, holding and comforting each other. General Johnson walked over to meet them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weber," he said. "You didn't hear this from me, but I got word not too long ago that General Masters was found dead in his apartment from an apparent suicide. I thought you might like to know."

"Thank you, general," Chris said.

"Your son meant a lot to us all," the general said. "He certainly was one of a kind. By the way, Mr. Weber. I've read all your books and I thoroughly enjoyed them. Your historic novel about Vietnam was very well done in my opinion."

"I'm glad you liked it, general," Chris said.

"I have an idea. Perhaps in your next book, you could explore the life and love of a good, decent, honorable man. Do you think you might have that in you?" he asked. Chris looked at the site where his son had just been laid to rest. He nodded his head.

"I think so, general," he said. "And I know just the man to write about."

"I look forward to reading that book," the general said, shaking Chris' hand. "Mrs. Weber," he said, touching the bill of his hat.

Six months later, the president held a ceremony at the White House, handing Chris the Medal of Honor. Chris accepted it and shook the president's hand. A few months later, his next book was published.

He titled it, "No Greater Love: The Life Story of Captain Michael Weber, United States Army Special Forces." Below that was written: "With special foreword by General Avery Johnson, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff." The book remained on the New York Times best-seller list for many months. In this way, his loving son would forever be remembered, Chris thought with a smile. And maybe, he thought, Mike's soul would finally find peace.