Cammie was wrong. Sure, Zach had almost died, but this wasn't the first time that had happened. Zach was an international spy. He encountered dangerous people every day. He specialized in making them comfortable, extracting their secrets, using them to his advantage. Of course, that was bound to backfire occasionally. Zach was constantly in danger. Frankly, he'd had so many close calls at this point, that he honestly wasn't even sure he could die.

And Cammie was exaggerating. He'd been in tight places on missions with other partners too. Sure, one of his partners had turned out to be a double agent, so that might have been contributory. And to be fair, Bex did make a habit of throwing him to the wolves every time he ran into her undercover, which was fairly often. Still, Zach was sure, Cammie was exaggerating.

What was he supposed to do, leave her fighting for her life in that alley and run toward safety with the drive? It was utterly ridiculous. Zach would never abandon a partner in that fashion. Not Bex, not Grant, and certainly not Cammie.

Zach took a deep breath and focused on keeping his hands from shaking. He'd seen Cammie angry a number of times over the years, but even he had never seen her quite like this. Not even the time she somehow got it into her head that he was dating Bex.

Zach couldn't sleep. As he lay on the couch, studying the cracks in their early 1850's plaster ceiling, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had to move. To run, to leave, and push this moment away so that he wouldn't see the foundation of their relationship shaking. So that he wouldn't have to bear witness as another great castle crumbled to the ground.

Cammie's words echoed in his head, sharp and biting. Tell me, Zach. What makes Bex more qualified to be in the field than me?

Zach had stood there like an idiot, but not because he didn't know the answer. No, that wasn't it at all. The answer was too easy, too obvious, but it never made it past Zach's lips.

He should have just told her. He should have looked Cammie dead in the eyes and said calmly, "Bex isn't the love of my life."

But he hadn't. And he wasn't even sure it would have mattered if he had.

Zach had to go, so he called his father. If there was anyone in the world who would understand his need to dive into work and hide from his personal life for a while, it would be Edward Townsend.

Townsend answered the burner phone on the first ring, clearly expecting Zach to advise him of some emergency.

"I need an assignment," Zach said calmly. He didn't offer an explanation, and Townsend didn't ask any questions.

There was silence for a moment, followed by one of Townsend's characteristic huffs.

The phone clicked off.

It was a deep cover operation in Columbia. A pharmaceutical drug ring where Grant was working undercover as the crew's muscle. Townsend needed an inside man to market the operation, and to better control which people ended up in Grant's way.

There wasn't a clock. Zach could be gone for weeks or years, and there was just no way of knowing. In short, it was perfect.

Zach hadn't been on a deep-cover operation before, unless you counted the decade he'd feigned allegiance to the Circle. But this was exactly the mission he needed. Maybe Townsend had read their mission report and extrapolated. Maybe he'd had some kind of fatherly instinct when Zach called him in the middle of the night. Maybe it was just coincidence, but Zach was grateful nonetheless.

Zach peaked into the bedroom, where Cammie lay, asleep. Her rest was unusually peaceful, without any of the tossing and turning and nightmares Zach had grown to expect. She must have been truly exhausted.

Zach felt a pang of guilt as he studied her. He knew she would take his leaving hard. They'd fought, and he knew it wasn't fair for him to leave this way. So he packed quickly and quietly, a skill he'd perfected long ago, careful not to wake Cammie.

He knew should say goodbye. With no way of knowing when or if he'd return, it wasn't right for him to simply walk off into the night. He could wake her, but Zach knew their unresolved fight would hover between them, complicating everything. And Zach had nothing to say about that.

How could Cammie expect him not to care? To just turn off his feelings for her the moment he stepped into the field. It was absurd. They were a team. They had always been a team. And he loved her. He loved her with every cell in his body, as if she'd been wound into his DNA, a simple fact of his existence.

How could she expect Zach to send her off into the world alone? Or worse yet, with another partner. No one would look out for her the way he did. No one else would understand how important it was that she live. Anything could happen to her.

Didn't she know? Didn't she know how he'd almost gone mad the last time she'd disappeared on her own? Didn't she know how he held himself responsible for everything she'd endured when she wasn't by his side?

There was nothing to say. He had to go.

Besides, wasn't this what Cammie wanted? The freedom to put herself in unspeakable danger without his input? He could be gone for months or years, and Zach knew his absence wouldn't stop Cammie from working. He was doing the right thing. He was stepping aside, and offering Cammie the freedom she wanted.

But he couldn't stay and watch her get hurt again. Cammie was an adult, and a talented, capable spy. Despite her allegations, Zach knew she was as qualified as anyone else out there. Cammie was free to make her own choices. But she couldn't force him to witness the consequences.

Not like this, a voice inside him shouted, but he silenced it. He'd made up his mind. It was the only way.

"Have a deep-cover op. Don't know when I'll be back. –Z"

He scrawled the words onto a post-it note and placed it on the counter. He didn't want her to panic. The rest of his actions may have been underhanded, but he wasn't leaving her, not really, and she should know that.

Zach collected his bag, and folded the blanket on the couch with precise deliberate movements. He paused at the door. He hesitated for a moment. He pushed open the door and placed his bags in the hallway. But at the last moment something called him back.

So he walked to the counter and scrawled two additional words on the note.

Love you.

Then he picked up his bags, locked the door behind him, and set off into the night.