He couldn’t get to me through the phone, so he escalated. He decided to hunt me.
A few weeks later, I was in my office at the base. Chief Ramos, my Executive Officer, knocked on the door frame. He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Ma’am, I have a weird report,” Ramos said. “I was at the diner off Gate 4 this morning. I saw your father.”
My blood went cold. “My father is in Norfolk?”
“Yes, ma’am. He approached me. He… he was asking questions. He wanted to know what building you worked in, your schedule, when you came and went. Ma’am, he was trying to map your movements.”
The air left the room. This was a military installation. You don’t probe for the schedule of a SEAL Commander. That is a security breach.
“What did you tell him, Chief?”
“I told him that information was classified and he needed to back off. He called me unhelpful and left.”
“Thank you, Chief. You handled it perfectly.”
When Ramos left, I put my head in my hands. He had driven three hours from Richmond to stalk me. He was invading my sanctuary. The base was the one place where my authority was absolute, and he was trying to undermine it.
That night, the fear followed me home. David found me checking the deadbolt for the third time.
“He’s not here for the money, David,” I whispered. “He wants the control back. I took it away, and he can’t stand it.”
The text messages stopped, but a week later, a letter arrived through the secure base mail system. It was a single page, written in his severe, left-slanting script.
