Chapter 4 - The First Betrayal
By midnight, my daughter was under federal protection.
By one in the morning, I had learned that my husband's death might not have been natural.
By two, I discovered someone inside the military had known.
And by three, I realized the person I had trusted most might have been lying to me for years.
Reyes took me to a secure conference room on the hospital's administrative floor.
A laptop sat on the table.
Emily was in the adjoining room with a federal victim advocate.
“Before we do this,” Reyes said, “you need to understand something.”
“Tell me.”
“Everything you learn tonight may change your career.”
“I already know.”
“You may lose your command.”
“I said tell me.”
He opened a classified-looking file.
My husband's name appeared.
David Hart.
Below it:
Operation Meridian.
I stared.
“What is that?”
“A procurement investigation.”
“Against the Prescott family?”
“Initially.”
He clicked.
Photographs appeared.
Shipping containers.
Bank transfers.
Military contractors.
Foreign accounts.
Margaret Prescott appeared in several.
Then another face.
My husband's.
He had been working with the government to identify a network purchasing restricted technology through Prescott Holdings.
I sat down.
“Why was I never told?”
“Because David wanted you protected.”
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That sounds convenient.”
Reyes met my eyes.
“Colonel, your husband's final report disappeared forty-eight hours before his death.”
“Who had access?”
He hesitated.
“Your command.”
I stared at him.
“Which command?”
“Fort Bragg.”
My stomach twisted.
I had spent most of my adult life around the same people.
Officers.
Intelligence personnel.
Defense attorneys.
Federal investigators.
I had trusted them because trust was necessary.
Reyes opened another file.
A list of names appeared.
One stopped me.
General Thomas Vale.
My former commanding officer.
My mentor.
The man who had written my promotion recommendation.
“No.”
Reyes said nothing.
“No.”
He slid a document across the table.
A communication log.
Vale had exchanged twenty-three encrypted messages with Margaret Prescott during the six months before David died.
I stared at the timestamps.
The final message was sent the morning David collapsed.
MEETING COMPROMISED. HART CANNOT KNOW.
I couldn't breathe.
“Why would he write that?”
“We're trying to determine that.”
“Trying?”
“We haven't arrested anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Because someone keeps tipping them off.”
He closed the file.
“And that's why you're in danger.”
My phone rang.
It was General Vale.
I stared at his name.
Reyes said, “Don't answer.”
I answered.
“General.”
“Victoria.”
His voice sounded normal.
Too normal.
“I heard Emily was attacked.”
“Yes.”
“Is she safe?”
“For now.”
A pause.
“I'm sending a team.”
“No.”
His tone hardened.
“You need military protection.”
“I already have federal protection.”
Silence.
Then:
“You need to trust me.”
I looked at Reyes.
He shook his head.
I said, “Why didn't you tell me about David?”
Vale stopped breathing for a moment.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Victoria, this is not the time.”
“It is exactly the time.”
He lowered his voice.
“Who have you been speaking to?”
I smiled without humor.
“That's not your concern.”
“It is if classified information is being compromised.”
“Then maybe you should ask yourself who compromised it six years ago.”
He hung up.
Reyes stared at me.
“He knows.”
“Or he's scared.”
“Those aren't mutually exclusive.”
The door opened.
Emily came in.
Her face was exhausted.
She was holding a small envelope.
“What is that?”
“I found it in my bag.”
Reyes took it.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph.
Emily and me.
Standing outside the house.
Taken three days before her wedding.
On the back was written:
YOUR MOTHER IS NEXT.
Emily began to cry.
I sat beside her.
“We're not going anywhere.”
She shook her head.
“Mom, that's not the worst part.”
“What is?”
She handed me a second photograph.
It showed my husband.
Not six years ago.
Two days before his supposed death.
Standing beside the Prescott estate.
Alive.
I stared at the photograph until the room blurred.
“That isn't possible.”
Emily whispered, “There's a timestamp.”
There was.
The photograph had been taken three days before David died.
The location was the Prescott estate.
Reyes stared at it.
“Where did you get this?”
Emily answered.
“It was inside the memory card.”
I felt the room tilt.
“You said the card was from last night.”
“It was.”
“Then how does it contain a photograph from six years ago?”
Emily looked at me.
“Because someone put it there for me to find.”
Reyes went pale.
“What else was on it?”
Emily swallowed.
“There's a recording.”
“Of what?”
She looked at me.
“Dad.”
Reyes reached for the laptop.
“Play it.”
Emily hesitated.
Then she pressed the file.
Static filled the room.
Then a man's voice.
David.
“If Victoria ever hears this, it means they failed to stop her.”
My heart stopped.
Then my husband's voice continued.
“Victoria, do not trust General Vale.”
A second voice answered.
Margaret Prescott.
“You should have known better than to protect your wife.”
Then David said something that made Emily scream.
“She's not your wife anymore.”
The recording ended.
I stared at the screen.
Reyes spoke quietly.
“Colonel.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“David was talking to Margaret.”
I looked at the frozen waveform.
“No. He wasn't.”
“Then who was he talking about?”
May you like
I whispered the answer.
“My husband had a mistress.”
