Faked Ch 01

Warning to all, there is a new technology that can transform a video into a Fake version so only a high-end AI computer system can tell the difference between real and fantasy. Ask Tom Cruise about it. It is known as Deep Fake Technology.

This Idea came from that video.

I would have preferred to write this from the wife's point of view but, I do not have the skill set.

I want to thank author Deirdra O'Neill for her editing, helping me make changes to make it so much more enjoyable. She has taught me a lot. Now all have to is remember it.

Also, to all you Marines out there. I never served as a Marine, so please excuse my lack of correct details.

This story is fiction. I can make up anything I want to.

*

Faked: Chapter 1

He admitted to doing it.

"Hey, Robert, is Carrie there?

"Yes, Dad" replied Robert.

"Do you mind putting her on the phone?"

"Hey, babe, I am heading out to get your mom. She will have to talk to me now. I don't understand why she is still so mad at me. It wasn't my fault. Hell, she has seen the kids and everyone else in the family but me. She is just dam, stubborn."

"Calm down, "Dad," replied Carrie.

"Is everything ready for tomorrow night? Well, we will have a party either way."

"Yes, Dad, it is." Replied Carrie.

"I hope she at least still likes me a little. I still love her. They won't let her out till around eight in the morning. I don't want to get up at three in the morning and worry about getting there in time.

This way, I will not keep her waiting. I am taking the Chevelle. She loved this car. Well, sometimes she loved it." Well, she will have to ride with me and maybe even talk to me. Everybody has agreed they will not pick her up. She can't walk."

"Did you take her some clothes for her to wear out? The orange doesn't go with her red hair. Don't you dare tell her I said that? I have to go. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," replied Carrie. Letting her dad ramble. She has had the same conversation with her father at least ten times earlier this week."

I loaded up my luggage for the overnight trip in my Chevelle. I had to rebuild it from scratch due to a fire. After all the labor and time I put into it, I loved that car. My 1970 4-speed 454SS is a Royal Metallic Blue with a black racing stripe and has over 650 horses under the hood. I was proud of my baby.

I am driving from Hilton Head, South Carolina, to Hartwell, Georgia, to pick her up. It takes about a five-hours to get there with light traffic. It is the third week of November now, and the leaves were turning a bright yellow, red, and purple. New England has nothing on Georgia's during the seasonal changes from summer into fall.

Hartwell, Georgia, sits about 100 miles northeast of Atlanta and about 60 miles southwest of Greenville, South Carolina. It sits at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains near the Savanah River. It is also home to the Whitworth State Prison for Women. One of the residence there is Katrina Baxter, my ex-wife, for the past five years.

I pointed my car north on Hwy 278, heading out of Hilton Head Island. I was hoping to let my 650 horsepower beast run loose on some of the back desolate roads of North Georgia.

Hello, my name David Baxter. Since we will have plenty of time between locations with nothing to do, let me tell you my story and how I ended up driving to get my ex-wife out of prison.

I had graduated at the top of my class at Annapolis. Upon graduation, I chose my career path in the United States Marines. You might ask why I didn't try to become a pilot since I had the first choice of assignments. because I sat at the top of the class, number one.

Even if I could have managed to get my 6 ft. 6 250lb frame into the cockpit of a plane, they would have had to use a can opener to get me out. God help me if I ever had to eject. It would be like trying to uncork a bottle of champagne. And I wasn't cut out to be in a submarine for six months at a time under hundreds of feet of water. And forget ships, ceilings too low.

After graduation, I attended TBS(The Basic Training School) at Camp Barret, Quantico, Virginia. At this school, you learned the basic skills and requirements to lead men and women.

After that assignment, I went to (SOI) School of Infantry at Camp Geiger, North Carolina. From there, I went to Iraq as a 2

nd

Lieutenant. for a tour. My second tour of duty was in Qandahar, Afghanistan.

The last thing I remember about Afghanistan was running for my life and carrying my Gunnery Sergeant on my back. He had been shot in the hip, shattering it. I had taken one in the shoulder. I had to carry him about a mile to a place where the choppers were waiting for us, and it was pure hell that day.

Of course, this happened with only a few days to go on the tour. Shit always seems to happen to you then. After our initial rehab in Germany, we rotated back to the states.

I made a special effort to make my rounds at the hospital at least once a week to check on my injured men and see how they were progressing. We may have left Afghanistan, but they were still my men.

I was looking for the room that held my new First Sergeant---Master Sergeant Mike O'Reilly. He was recovering from his second surgery to his hip from the bullet he took. Mike was a pretty big guy himself. He was 6-3 and weighed in at about 180 lbs. He weighed around 215 before we went to Afghanistan. We both had lost a lot of weight on that last tour.

He could be one mean son-of-a-bitch when he needed to be. He had a fiery Irish temper to match his red hair. Mike had dressed my ass down on more than one occasion as a 2

nd

Lt. for fucking up. He was trying to make sure I didn't get anyone killed, including myself. I trusted him with my life. And as time went on, he trusted me with his.

I found his room and walked in, "Hello, Sergeant, I have some good news for you. I wanted to drop these off to you personally and congratulate you on your promotion. And it is a well-deserved promotion," sticking out my hand to shake his."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," he replied, taking the chevrons from my left hand.

"How are you doing, Gunny? Oops---- sorry, I mean Master Sergeant?" I asked, noticing that he was off all the monitoring equipment.

"I will be getting out tomorrow, sir, and then rehab. I will then be back on duty."

That's when I heard her for the first time. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK coming down the hallway towards Mike's room. She charged in like a Hurricane, and my world would never be the same after that. She acted like she owned the place and went straight to Mike.

Walking over and kissing him on the cheek, she smiled and addressed her Dad, "Hey Daddy, how are you doing?" I talked with the doctors and nurses this morning. I told them what I expect from them. If any of them give you any crap, you let me know. That head nurse is just about to be in a world of hurt."

"They told me you're getting out tomorrow. I will be here to pick you up at 10. After talking to Mike, she looked up and saw me standing there. She stormed around the bed and stood about a foot in front of me, and smiled' "Hi, you must be Lt. Baxter? Dad wrote me telling me how you saved him. I want to thank you for saving my Dad's life. My name is Katrina."

Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed me on the cheek. When she pulled away, she smiled at me again. I looked over at Mike, and he was biting his lip to trying keep from laughing at the shocked look on my face.

She was hot! She looked like Natalya Rudakova's character Valentina, in the Movie Transporter 3, with dark red hair and freckles. They covered her entire body that I could see. I told her later I was planning on counting every freckle on her body. I later did try to count and kiss all of them. I never made it. I never could get past 50.

Katrina was about 6 ft. tall and very athletically built, with dark red hair and beautiful emerald green eyes. She was wearing a pencil skirt with a white blouse with high heels. She had the 'it factor."

I never discussed it with other men, but I often grouped women into different categories, beautiful, sexy, stunning, cute, girl next door, erotic, exotic, and slutish. I guess that's why some men find some women more alluring than others.

As we got to know each other, I realized that she fit into all and none of my categories. It depended on what she was wearing, her smiling or pouting, pissed off or happy. It was the sum of many things that I just could not place my finger on about her.

She stood in front of me smiling, "I expect you to be at the house Sunday for Sunday dinner, David. Dad says, 'you are from Alabama." I just nodded.

"Are you an Auburn or Alabama fan?" Katrina asked. I noted to myself that she put Alabama after Auburn in that question. I was going to nip this in the bud here and now. "Alabama, Ma'am," I said proudly. As I stared into her eyes, not backing down one iota.

Katrina's smile disappeared, "Well, there is no accounting for taste. At least you were smart enough to have gone through the academy. Otherwise, I wouldn't even consider you, Lt. Baxter, husband material."

What, huh, marriage material.

Shit.

What the hell

, I thought to myself.

Katrina walked back over to Mike and kissed him on the cheek, "Got to go. If those nurses give you any shit, just let me know. David, you be at the house at 1, no excuses. She flew out the room when I heard a sound that made me cringe, '

War Eagle'

."

"Sergeant, do you have two daughters?" I asked.

"No, Sir, just the one," he replied.

"I thought you had a younger daughter. Isn't she around 15 or 16? She was riding a bike and played softball. She had pigtails in the picture you showed me.

"You must have lost track of time Lieutenant, don't you remember me telling you she had gotten a scholarship to play softball at Auburn? And that picture was from years ago. That one was my favorite."

"Yeah, but that was just..... Oh, dam, your right, that was four years ago now. I guess time flies when your dodging bullets. Are you sure you want me to come over?"

"You better, if you don't want her hunting you down like a dog," he laughed.

I was laughing, "All right, sergeant, I'll see you Sunday." I walked out in shell shock and trying to remind myself to call him Sergeant.

Knock, Knock, Knock. "Lieutenant," yelled Gunny, "Come on in." I stepped into the house to see Mike sitting in front of the television watching the Falcons and the Panthers play. "Have a seat, Lieutenant," pointing to the sofa.

I heard, "You're late!" from a familiar voice. I looked up to see Katrina standing with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot and looking at her watch and then at me with annoyance.

"Sorry, Katrina, for being late. Normally I go to early Mass. But I had to make my rounds to see my men in rehab this morning. Then I went to late Mass, and it ran over. The priest was discussing forgiveness."

She smirked and nodded her head, getting the point. "You're forgiven this time. David. Oh, by the way, we are all on a first-name basis here. First names only will be used when in this house," she turned and fled back into the kitchen.

I yelled out to Katrina. "Do you need some help?"

"No sit-down and keep Daddy entertained. It will be on the table in a few minutes," she replied.

I was watching Mike closely. I felt like I was the one being served for dinner. He just sat there with a twisted smile on his as if he was biting his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing.

Then I heard Katrina yell, "lunch is served."

"Daddy, you sit there at the head. David, you sit next to him there, and I will sit here," barking out orders. She would have made a great drill sergeant. The table was designed to seat six people. One on each end, and with two chairs side by side on each of the sides. Normally one would sit at the head of the table, and the other two would sit, one on one side and one on the other side of that person.

Not in this case, she sat to my left next to me. "David, I hope you like fried chicken and not baked."

"No, why would anyone want to ruin a perfectly good piece of chicken by baking it. I'll never know." Eating with my hands and taking a bite out of the breast, I groaned with pleasure with a mouth full of food, "dam, this chicken is good. It taste's just like my Mom's."

She smiled from seeing the joy on my face and asked, "Do do you like homemade banana pudding with vanilla wafers?"

I thought I died and gone to heaven when I heard that. She talked the whole time. Katrina was constantly touching my sleeve. She even leaned into me while letting her leg rub against mine.

"Heck, Mike, you're going to gain fifty pounds if you eat like this all the time, as I ate my third piece of chicken," I asked for another helping of mashed potatoes and gravy.

Mike had a serious look in his eyes as he spoke about her, "Don't let her fool you. Katrina is the calorie police. She keeps me on a tight calorie budget normally. I want you to come back every Sunday so I can get a decent meal," Mike chuckled.

"I would like that too," spoke Katrina batting her eyes at me. We finished eating thirty minutes later.

Katrina told Mike, "why don't you go sit down and finish watching your game. I am sure David wouldn't mind helping me in the kitchen with cleaning up this mess, would you, David?"

"No, Ma'am, I'll be glad to help. I'll wash, and you dry." We were thru in 30 minutes. I didn't say a lot. I couldn't get a word in edgewise, even if I had wanted to. How she could keep talking and barely take a breath amazed me.

When we finished the dishes, I followed her into the living room where Mike sat in his recliner drinking his sweet tea. I sat on the love sofa next to his chair to enjoy the game. I thought Katrina would have sat on the couch on the other side of the room. Nooo!, she didn't. She sat right next to me.

She was facing me, sitting on her legs. Again Mike and I kept glancing at each other and making eye contact. She eventually touched me again on the arm and asked, "Are you ready for your dessert." I was sweating bullets, and Mike was smirking at my discomfort. It wasn't what she said. It was the way she said it.

She disappeared back into the kitchen and came back with the banana pudding. When I asked for a second helping, you would have thought I asked her to marry me. Katrina was so happy. When she left to get the second helping, I looked at Mike, "You are enjoying the shit out of this, aren't you?"

"Yes, David, I am." he chuckled."

For the next 2 hours, she talked, I listened, and Mike smirked. Finally, I told them I had to get going. I thanked Katrina and Mike for the lovely dinner. She was kind enough to fix me leftovers and the rest of the banana pudding. Mike was not smirking anymore. I smiled at him like a cat that just ate the canary.

She walked me to the door. I thanked her for the homemade meal and stuck my hand out to say goodbye. She ignored it and kissed me lightly on the lips, thanking me for coming to lunch and again saving Mike. I assured her that it was my pleasure. I also reminded her that Marines never leave a man behind.

She then put her number in my pocket. Katrina smiled, "I am free this Friday and Saturday night one or both. I like dancing to any kind of music." When I turned to walk away with my leftovers, I shouted, "Roll Tide," making sure the distance between us would keep me safe. I knew I wasn't brave enough to turn around to see her reaction.

That Thursday, I was in my office when I could hear a distinctive click, click, click, coming down the hallway.

"There you are," spoke Katrina, over-emphasizing her facial movements with a frown. You haven't called me. I am dropping off my number again. Better yet, pick me up at 7:00 tomorrow night, don't be late. She turned to leave and yelled, "WAR DAM EAGLE."

After she left, I yelled, "Sergeant! Get me, Sergeant Mike O'Reilly, on the phone now!"

"Sergeant, can I bring you lunch today? I know you can't drive yet, but we need to talk now."

"What about lieutenant." I could hear him smiling through the phone. "Did you have a visitor this morning?"

I replied, "You damn well know what this is about, Mike. I'll pick us up a couple of Subway sandwiches. I'll be there afternoon."

I showed up around twelve with a couple of cold-cut combos, and we ate lunch. We made small talk about the men and when he would be back. Finally, I brought up the 800-pound gorilla in the room that weighed about 130 lbs. and was red-headed. "Mike, your daughter, paid me a visit this morning, and she has practically ordered me to take her to dinner and dancing tomorrow night."

Mike laughing and shaking his head, "Don't get me involved in this shit that you're in, and don't you dare use me as a shield to protect your ass. Unfortunately or fortunately for you, you have been targeted by a heat-seeking red-headed drone. There is no place to hide. You can't run, there are no reinforcements, and no help is coming."

I was in shock at Mike's reaction, "You're enjoying the hell out of this, aren't you?" I looked at him with that shit-eating grin on his face. "Mike, I like your daughter is beautiful, smart, and about a dozen other adjectives I could use to describe her."

David ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "But after four years in the service, I have seen men like you get destroyed by their women. I don't even hardly date because of it. It just doesn't seem to be worth the effort. Have you forgotten I was there when you received your dear John letter from your ex-wife? She wanted a divorce so she could marry another man."

"I have seen a 6' 8" 275lb. Marine brought to his knees by a 5' 2" 100 lb. cheating wife. A military career is tough on both men and women. I do not see the upside and am scared to death---- no, I am terrified of it. Not to mention you lose half your shit. And then half of your retirement because you were married for more than 11 years to her."

"David, you are right, it did hurt, but every time I look at Katrina, I tell myself it was worth it. But I am going to warn you upfront she hates cheaters. She has a very strained relationship with her mother because of the pain she caused me. She is a lot like you David, Katrina has a unique sense of duty and honor that you both live by. And if you make a promise to her, you better keep it. Because she will always keep her's."

Mike leaned forward and looked at David seriously, "This a warning to you. If you were ever stray, there would be no forgiveness. Katrina will come at you like a chipmunk with rabies. You would have to run for your life. I would be ok with you dating her or even marrying her. But that's between you and her, and whatever happens, happens, you are both adults. And besides, if you can live with her, I can tolerate you." laughing.

"David, I have never seen her like this. She talks about you all the time. She is giddy as a schoolgirl. Katrina has discussed with every woman on this base about you, and they all give you rave reviews. There are no skeletons in your closet.

There's not even a rumor about you and another woman that is considered torrid, and better yet, no hint of you being with a married woman. You have been thoroughly investigated and vetted. Hell, even the NSA doesn't have a dossier as complete on you as she does.

She has dated other men but never more than once or twice. Never overnight or even weekend trips. I am not sure, but I'm guessing she has never even been with a man in the biblical sense."

"She has often told me 'why would any man pay full price for what you are giving away for free. It wouldn't have any value.' That's what you will be dealing with here."

-----------We dated, and I married her a year later. I liked coming out of the wedding ceremony with her and walking through the Arch of Sabers with her. For those who don't know what that is. After the wedding ceremony, the bride and groom will exit the chapel, then walk through two rows of service members in uniform.