"They are exploiting the resentment of my ex-husband and ex-mother-in-law to build a psychological and digital profile on me."
General Sterling folded his hands, his expression grim.
"They want to find a backdoor through your civilian footprint, Colonel."
"Exactly, sir," I nodded.
"Aris promised Anthony offshore funds in exchange for my security routines."
"Rostova promised Eleanor a public exoneration in exchange for my network configurations."
"They are piecing together a vulnerability that doesn't exist."
"Which is why we are going to create one for them."
Sterling raised an eyebrow.
"You want to bait them with a live server?"
"Not a live server, General. A honeypot," I corrected.
"I am going to visit Allenwood Penitentiary tomorrow."
"I am going to have a highly 'emotional' confrontation with my ex-husband."
"During that confrontation, I am going to let slip a very specific piece of classified information."
"I am going to mention an off-site, unclassified server farm in rural Virginia where I supposedly back up my personal and command communications."
Sterling smiled, a slow, predatory expression that mirrored my own.
"A server farm loaded with tracking malware and digital tripwires," he said.
"Precisely," I replied.
"Anthony will immediately sell that location to Aris."
"Aris will transmit it to his handlers."
"Rostova and her cyber-team will attempt a physical and digital breach on that specific location."
"When they do, my tactical units will be waiting."
"We won't just block their hack. We will trace their signal back to their primary offshore servers and dismantle their entire syndicate."
"And your ex-husband?" Sterling asked.
"Anthony will have knowingly provided what he believes is classified military intelligence to a foreign agent for financial gain," I said, my voice completely devoid of mercy.
"He will graduate from a white-collar fraudster to an enemy of the state."
Sterling stood up, straightening his uniform.
"Operation approved, Colonel Vance."
"Execute the trap."
The next morning, the gray skies over Pennsylvania matched the bleak, oppressive atmosphere of the Allenwood visiting room.
I sat in a hard plastic chair, wearing my full Dress Blue uniform.
The medals on my chest gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the miserable surroundings.
The heavy steel door across the room buzzed loudly.
Anthony was escorted into the room by a corrections officer.
He looked worse than he had on the security monitors.
His face was gaunt, his eyes sunken, his posture hunched like a beaten dog.
When he saw me sitting there, he stopped dead in his tracks.
A mixture of profound fear and boiling hatred flashed across his face.
He sat down in the chair opposite the thick plexiglass partition.
He picked up the black telephone receiver.
I picked up mine.
"What are you doing here, Marissa?" he spat, his voice trembling with anger.
"Did you come to gloat?"
"Did you come to see how completely you ruined my life?"
I kept my expression perfectly neutral, projecting the image of a woman who was stressed, overworked, and slightly frayed at the edges.
"I didn't ruin your life, Anthony," I said softly, injecting a carefully calculated note of exhaustion into my voice.
"You ruined it yourself."
"But I didn't come here to argue."
"I came here to warn you."
Anthony scoffed, leaning closer to the glass.
"Warn me? About what?"
"You've already taken my company, my money, and my freedom."
"What else is there?"
I lowered my voice, glancing around the room as if I were afraid of being overheard.
"The federal auditors are expanding their investigation into your mother's accounts," I lied smoothly.
"They found anomalies in the digital routing numbers you used."
"They are threatening to subpoena my personal off-site servers."
Anthony’s eyes narrowed.
The bait had been cast.
"Your servers?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent, but failing to hide the sudden, sharp interest in his voice.
"Yes," I sighed, rubbing my temples in a display of feigned weakness.
"The civilian backup servers I maintain at the old warehouse facility in Ashburn, Virginia."
"The ones I use to store my unencrypted command logs and personal financial backups."
"If the DOJ forces me to surrender those drives, they might find the secondary shell companies you set up before the divorce."