I considered the resources available to me. I had contacts all over the world, but a black-ops style hit was a step too far even for these two assholes. In fact, I thought, why use my resources at all? I was going to need a decent lawyer to bring this to a satisfactory conclusion. Well, to my satisfaction at least. Why not let someone else do the rest of the heavy lifting?
I contacted the office and spoke to the boss. He was sympathetic and suggested that I could have two weeks paid leave to do what was needed. He also arranged for our legal team to suggest a vicious family lawyer. I also asked him if we had any contacts in the local media. I think that I heard a snort of laughter. He promised to have someone contact me shortly. Then, as we ended the call, he wished me well and warned me not to act in haste. That seemed to be a common message.
Before Marcy's first week had passed, I had spoken to Craig, my new lawyer. I was prepared for most of what he told me. We were a No-Fault state and there were no dependent children so it would be a fifty/fifty split of assets. Her letter was interesting and could prove useful if she tried to play stupid stalling games but, otherwise, it was irrelevant. However, as she had addressed it to me, it was mine to do with as I wished.
What I wished was to share it with Wendy, the young journalist from the local news channel. I showed her a redacted version, with references removed that could identify Leslie and Vincent; they were innocent in my mind. She was buzzing with excitement at the story she was hearing. Our local hospital, partly supported by a Christian charity, had provided medical staff to Doctors Without Borders, another charity, and these same staff, many married, were treating this like a sex excursion to Vegas!
I told her that on day three of their tour, I had spoken to my wife and another married nurse and both had sex partners in their rooms.
"Do you have any links with news channels in Colombia?" I asked innocently.
"You cunning bastard. You're determined to nuke them, aren't you?" She observed, quite accurately. I nodded. She pondered. "No, but I have a friend in Panama who could be there in a few hours. She's my age and, regrettably, or fortunately in this case, no-one would see anything suspicious in a young woman taking selfies with her boyfriend in the hotel bar." We grinned at each other. "Don't worry," she reassured me. I'm young but the first rule that we learn is to protect our confidential sources. In any event, if even half of what you've told me is true, they aren't even trying to be discreet."
I wondered, now that Pandora was about to open her box, whether it was fair that Josh Washington, Penny's husband, should find out from the media what a slut his wife was. No. None of this was fair but I had met the man, even if it was only for one evening, and I'd liked him. I owed him some respect even if his wife couldn't. I called him at his office and asked if I could drop by for a few minutes before he left for home. When he asked the purpose, I told him that I had an update on the Doctors Without Borders excursion.
He was the last one remaining in his office when I arrived. I felt sick, but not as sick as he was going to feel once we'd spoken. I refused a coffee, took a seat and began. "Josh. What you do with this is up to you, but I can't make the decision for you. Marcy is fucking Doctor Trey while she's away. When she wouldn't answer her phone I rang Penny's number." He paled. He knew what I was going to say. I wanted to reassure him, but I couldn't. "It was their third day there," I told him. "There was a man in her room and she begged me not to tell you. I'm so sorry, Josh. She'd been fucking him and I've no idea whether they are swapping or." I gave a sardonic laugh. "staying faithful to their fuck-buddies for the duration."
I sat quietly and held him as he fell apart. I offered the same advice that I'd taken. Don't fall into a bottle and don't make irrevocable decisions while you're angry. I stayed until he was fit to drive and then watched him walk disconsolately to his car. At that moment I hated myself almost as much as I did Penny, Doctor Trey and Marcy. Almost.
Gemma, she was called. She and her boyfriend, Eric, flew in to Bogota that afternoon. They stayed for three days, befriending the faithless medics and listening to them brag about their adventures. and then as the circus moved on to Ecuador, Gemma flew home to begin writing their script. Wendy and her girlfriend were waiting in Quito, the capital, to continue the story.
Wendy rang me one morning five days later, as the DWB team were a couple of days from winding down to get ready for their next move. The story would be broadcast locally that evening. Doctors Without Borders, the hospital CEO and the Church Charity Board had all been shown the evidence and were invited to be interviewed on air or provide statements. Their silence that far spoke volumes.
I rang the kids. I'd already told them that their mother was working away and that I wasn't happy. Now I told them to watch the news that night and we would video call the following morning. I rang Josh and suggested that he watch and, perhaps, alert any other people he knew whose partners were working with DWB. Apparently he went one better and alerted everyone that he knew at the hospital.
The item was trailed all day on the rolling news channel and, at six o'clock that evening, it finally dropped. It was dynamite. By then, the church charity's PR advisers must have got their asses into gear because they fielded a talking head. The studio camera kept switching to him as the revelations kept coming. His face froze as Marcy and Trey were shown necking in their hotel bar and the journalist pointed out that her husband, a retired soldier, her daughter, also serving her country and her son, a college student, were at home while she was 'involved' with the team's senior surgeon on a trip sponsored by our local hospital and a Christian charity.
Other examples were shown, I hoped against hope that Penny had straightened up. She hadn't. In fact she was shown failing the husband test with two different men in Bogota and two more in Quito. So much for "Please don't say anything. This is the first time." I made a mental note to speak to Josh.
The hospital really fucked up by not even giving a statement. The guy from the church was outraged that their donations were funding a six week, five country fornication fuck-fest. (My words not his.) The hospital just looked complicit and had no-one there to refute the accusation. It wasn't helped by the sight of the senior nurse and the senior surgeon playing tonsil tennis before the journo with the concealed camera followed them to their room. Note the singular; by then they had stopped even pretending to have separate beds.
The fallout was fucking biblical. The team were allowed to finish their agreed program in Ecuador and then were dragged home in disgrace, over three weeks early. The scene at the airport when they landed was mayhem. I counted three process servers, including mine, each greeting two of the dozen medics as they left the baggage claim area. I watched from the mezzanine as Marcy walked unsuspectingly up to the young woman holding a placard with her name in it. I saw her reel as the girl passed it over. She'd been served.
Marcy knew I wouldn't try to resist the temptation to watch and I saw her peering round, trying to find me in the crowd of angry wives and husbands, reporters, cameramen and assorted spectators. Eventually, she looked up and saw me, leaning on the rail to enjoy the view as I speculated on an updated version of a Shakespearian quotation. "Cry 'Havoc!', and let slip the dogs of 24 hour news." I saw her glare at me. Of course she knew it was me. I'd told Leslie to send her the megaphone emoji. Was she going to admit to the other adulterous bastards that it was her stupid decision to brag to her husband about screwing Doctor Trey that led them there. Like fuck she was.
When I knew I had her full attention, I stood and saluted her. It was an economical salute. It only required one finger. I saw her head drop and I left for my new apartment.
I'd had a long and grovelling apology from the hospital regarding being publicly cuckolded on local TV: a shortened version even went national. I was assured that the good Doctor Trey was no longer employable in this state and may even be persuaded to fuck off back to Brazil.
I had suggested that my soon to be ex-wife not be punished too harshly, mainly because I had no intention of having to pay her alimony if the whore was thrown out of work, at least until I was rid of her. I think that he and I came to an understanding.
I'll finish my tale as it began; with a letter. This is what she found when she got back to the house with a 'For Sale' sign in the garden.
Marcy
I'll end this adventure of yours the way you began it; with a letter. You were wrong about my relationship with Deirdre. We did come close to sleeping together, once, in all the time we were together in combat. Yes she took care of me; we had each other's back in firefights; but I never fucked her. Unlike you and your escapades at the Red Roof Inn: we both know It doesn't take two hours to park a car. So, your entire justification, such as it was, is, by your own admission, meaningless. You subjected me to weeks of misery and humiliation based on an incorrect assumption. Now, ask yourself, just how forgiving do you imagine I feel right now?
And, like you, I have no proof, but do you really expect me, or Kyle or Rhonda, to believe your descent into infidelity began overseas? That you didn't sample the goods before you left? That you weren't already banging that arrogant bastard before you even arranged for Leslie to provide a consolation vagina? Well, news-flash, we don't.
I read your letter. Four times you declared your love for me. But nothing about respect. I'll return the favor. I loved the woman you were. I despise the person you are now. The very thought of spending the rest of my life with a woman so self-obsessed that she would treat me and my family the way that you have makes my blood run cold. There isn't a disinfectant on the planet strong enough to persuade me to stick my dick into your cesspit of a cunt. How many did you fuck Marcy? Josh knows Penny scored at least four. Did you have a competition? Did they spit roast you. DP you? Make you airtight? Did they do you side by side and then swap? I wouldn't believe your denials even if you swore on the kids' lives.
