Free Stay by Victor Gischler

die, little man?” Payne said quietly only for David’s ears. “Or do you want to watch your woman go first?”
    Violence welled up within David, threatening to break through his control, and it would have if he hadn’t felt many hands from behind, pulling him back.

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
    David sat at his kitchen table, a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in front of him. He was generally a beer-and-wine kind of guy, but on special occasions, he wanted something with a kick. He’d filled a Pokémon glass three fingers full and had been staring at it for about thirty minutes without drinking. The sounds of after school cartoons seeped in from the living room. He’d get to Brent’s homework later.
    It was impossible not to connect the break-in to Dante Payne. How could it be a coincidence? Answer: it wasn’t.
    He fished the flash drive out of his pocket and squinted at it. Why did he want this?
    He picked up his drink and walked back to Amy’s office, sat down at the computer. David had put the room back together the day after the break-in, sweeping up and throwing out anything broken beyond repair, salvaging what he could. The office still felt soiled, violated. Trying to access the information on the flash drive turned out to be a dead end. Password protected. He should have left the drive with Charlie. He was trying to figure his next move when he heard the front door open and close. Muffled voices, Amy greeting the kids. A second later, he heard her footsteps coming down the hall, the office door opening behind him.
    David spun in the chair to greet her. “Hey.”
    â€œSome day, huh?” Amy’s eyes drifted to the glass in his hand. “I don’t blame you.”
    â€œWant one?”
    â€œDo we have any wine?”
    David nodded. “I’ll open a bottle.”
    They ordered pizza and let the kids eat it in front of the TV. Anna thought they’d hit the jackpot, but Brent was just old enough to be a little suspicious. David assured him it was just a one-time treat. The truth was neither David nor Amy had it in them to cook a meal. A cheap pizza and garbage television one night wouldn’t corrupt the kids forever.
    They sat on the back deck, David with a second helping of Johnny Walker and Amy with a glass of pinot noir.
    Amy slouched in a deck chair. She’d changed into yoga pants and a loose-fitting, faded Yale T-shirt. “So that was some display earlier, huh?”
    David summoned a wan smile. “I should have just let you go after him. Might have solved everything right then and there.”
    â€œDavid, did you know him?” Amy asked. “There seemed to be a moment there. Like maybe you’d seen him before.”
    He sipped the Johnny Walker slowly, then said, “Just men like him. That type. I think I’ve heard that accent before. It just struck a chord.”
    It had been the threat against Amy that had riled David. If the police hadn’t pulled David away …
    She nodded, sipping wine, but David could see she wanted to ask more. Amy was a smart woman. Smart enough to know there was more. Smart enough not to press him about it. Some instinct told her it was a rabbit she couldn’t chase.
    The bulk of David’s Army days had been spent going back and forth between assignments overseas and his home in the States. Each time David returned home, he told his wife a little less about what he’d been doing, or, more accurately, he repeated less of the cover story he’d rehearsed by order of the U.S. government. As far as the world was concerned, David used his keen organizational skills to set up supply chains at bases around the world. It was a good excuse to have him always traveling to different places. He hated lying to Amy, and she must have known on some level not to ask, some combination of his demeanor and facial expression or something, but her curiosity about David’s work faded over time, and