"I am an investigative journalist for an independent media syndicate."
Eleanor’s heart leaped in her chest.
A journalist.
Someone was finally listening.
"I knew it," Eleanor gasped, tears welling in her eyes.
"I knew someone would realize this was a miscarriage of justice!"
"I am a political prisoner! My daughter-in-law is a monster!"
Elena nodded sympathetically, opening her briefcase and pulling out a notepad.
"That is exactly why I am here, Mrs. Vance."
"I am writing an exposé on the abuse of military authority."
"Colonel Marissa Vance has destroyed your family."
"She used her federal power to unlawfully seize your assets and silence you."
Eleanor nodded frantically, her diamond-free hands pressing against the glass.
"Yes! Yes, she did!"
"She humiliated me in public! She forged those documents!"
"She is a ruthless, ungrateful gold digger in a uniform!"
Elena smiled warmly, a predator masquerading as a savior.
"I want to help you clear your name, Eleanor."
"I want to publish the truth and humiliate her on a national stage."
"But to do that, I need details."
"I need to know everything about her."
"Her schedule when she lived in New York."
"The names of the civilian contractors she met with."
"Her private email passwords, if you know them."
"The layout of her home office."
Eleanor didn't hesitate.
The desperate, burning desire for revenge overrode any basic common sense.
She spent the next hour pouring out every single detail she could remember about my life.
She told Elena about my security badges.
She told her about the encrypted laptop I used to leave locked in the study.
She told her the names of the defense executives who had attended our wedding.
She gave up every piece of personal and professional intelligence she had absorbed during five years of exploiting me.
When the visiting hour was over, Eleanor felt a triumphant surge of vindication.
She watched Elena walk away, believing she had just fired the bullet that would end my career.
She had absolutely no idea she had just handed classified proximity intelligence to a known operative of a hostile foreign intelligence service.
Back at Fort Belvoir.
I sat at my glass desk in my private command office, watching the live feed of the visitor room at Danbury on my secure monitor.
Captain Miller stood at attention beside me, holding a fresh file.
"Facial recognition confirms the visitor, Colonel," Miller reported.
"Elena Rostova."
"A senior operative for the same foreign syndicate funding Victor Aris at Allenwood."
I took a sip of black coffee, my eyes locked on Eleanor's pathetic, eager face on the screen.
"They are running a coordinated intelligence-gathering operation using my ex-family as unwitting assets," I said smoothly.
"They believe the Vances hold the key to breaching the Strategic Intelligence Directorate."
"Eleanor just gave her the model and serial number of the home router I used in Manhattan."
"Should we dispatch federal marshals to intercept Rostova, ma'am?" Miller asked.
"No," I replied, leaning back in my leather chair.
"If we arrest her now, we only catch one operative."
"I want the entire network."
"And to get the network, we have to give them exactly what they are looking for."
"We are going to feed them a ghost."
Miller frowned slightly, though his discipline held firm.
"A ghost, Colonel?"
"Yes," I smiled, the cold, calculating thrill of the hunt rushing through my veins.
CHAPTER 3 — The Counter-Surveillance Trap
The Pentagon briefing room was soundproof, swept for electronic bugs twice a day, and accessible only to personnel with Top Secret/SCI clearance.
I stood at the head of the long mahogany table.
Seated across from me was General Robert Sterling, the Director of Strategic Operations.
The glowing tactical screens behind me displayed the faces of Victor Aris, Elena Rostova, Anthony Vance, and Eleanor Vance.
A complex web of red digital lines connected their profiles, highlighting the flow of illicit communications.
"The foreign syndicate is attempting a lateral breach, General," I explained, using a laser pointer to trace the connections.
"They cannot hack the Strategic Intelligence Directorate directly."
"Our firewalls are too dense. Our biometric security is flawless."
"So, they are using human intelligence."