Lee picked up the phone from the bedside table and carried it into the bathroom. He closed the door, slipping the cord underneath, and turned on the exhaust fan. This phone call couldn't wait for a more decent hour and he couldn't risk being heard.

"Semper Fidelis, Leatherneck." Using the full motto, rather than the more casual "Semper Fi," was their private code to indicate a matter of utmost urgency.

"What do you need, Ace?" The phone call had pulled the marine from a deep sleep, but he was instantly attentive. Swinging his feet to the floor, Leatherneck turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed a pen and pad of paper.

"Can you get a dead man's watch in the next several hours?" Lee's voice was soft, but intense. Seeing himself in the mirror reminded him to shave one last time before leaving the apartment.

The surprising request sparked a dozen questions, but Leatherneck could tell by Lee's voice that this was not the time for explanations. "Yeah, we have a suicide watch at the Agency. When I get it, what do you want me to do?" He scrubbed his face with one hand to banish the lingering sleep. He could picture the location of the box in the locked cabinet. All of the necessary equipment was included in one sealed package.

"Will it raise anyone's eyebrows for you to get it now and bring it back to your place?"

"No, I occasionally need to visit my work bench in the middle of the night, so going to the office now shouldn't cause any problems." As supply sergeant, he had learned the value of being a little unpredictable.

"Good. Go get it. Do not talk to anyone and don't read anything. The less you know the better, if you know what I mean. I'm on a tight deadline and the plan is still forming. Stay home until I call." Lee struggled to stay focused until this call was finished. Having covered the bulk of the business, his mind was racing to solve other problems. He rubbed his forehead, concentrating. His thoughts were a churning cauldron of unanswered questions.

"Sure. I'll go get the watch, keep my head low, come home, and wait for your call. Anything else?"

"Yes." Lee almost shouted as another detail surged to the surface. "Yes, I just thought of one more thing you could do for me. Get us a car from the motor pool – something low profile."

"I can manage that." Picking up a car from the motor pool at this hour might be tricky, but he'd figure it out. From all he could gather, Lee had more than enough to think about.

"Thanks." The gratitude was genuine, but the agent was obviously moving to his next task.

"Semper Fi, Ace."

Lee hung up the phone and turned off the exhaust fan and the light. He opened the door and quietly returned the phone to the table. He glanced around his bedroom not really seeing it as he reviewed his preparations so far.

After a checkered college career, Lee had turned to the military like a homing pigeon returning to its roost. He had rejected the Air Force automatically due to lingering teenage rebellion towards his uncle. He had strongly considered the Army as a way of following in his father's steps, and for the same reason, rejected it. He wanted to forge his own path. The war in Vietnam had dominated the news for most of his life. The long coastline and rugged terrain demanded the amphibious expertise of the Marines. The core values of the Marines – honor, courage and commitment – had been instilled in him from childhood, so it was a natural fit.

Those were the public reasons he chose the Marines. But the most important and private reason for choosing the Marines was represented by that phone call. Lonely, rootless Lee Stetson had joined the Marines so that he would never be completely alone again. The loyalty of Marines to one another was legendary and provided a safety net that allowed Lee to live on a tightrope. Semper Fidelis – Always Faithful – to their country, to the Corps, to the mission, and to each other. Even in the Marines, he had mostly worked alone on Intelligence assignments, but the solid backing of the entire Corps was a primary feature of every mission. He rarely had the need to depend on that loyalty so strongly, but today's circumstances required extraordinary measures.

As his hand gripped the door knob to go into the living room, a wave of emotion stopped him in his tracks. He leaned his forehead against the door jamb and closed his eyes breathing deeply. Amanda. His love for her made him vulnerable. It made him care about his future like never before. The thought that his future would only last another few hours was piercing and shattering. He could not afford to let his emotions overwhelm him. It was vital that his mind function without being crippled by feelings. Ruthlessly, he suppressed the grief and horror, and firmly locked them down, out of the way. He had a lifetime of experience in suppressing his emotion.

He was an Omega-class prisoner, through no fault of his own. His file held dozens of reprimands and disciplinary actions, but none of them were serious enough to justify imprisonment. The bacteria multiplying in his body would make him a danger to the public, and demanded that he be locked away to protect the innocent. Billy had graciously said that "escorts" would take him to "Mrs. McMurty's." That was a nice way of saying that Military Police would take him to a luxury prison – fellow Marines doing their job.

Amanda had prepared coffee and omelets for them and for his two guards. There was probably a surveillance team watching his fire escape, just to be sure he didn't sneak out. Once inside that secure facility, everyone expected him to sit around waiting to die. They were wrong.

They were settled at Mrs. McMurty's by 5:30 – at least an hour before dawn. Like all government facilities, there was a mountain of paperwork and an endless list of protocols to review and sign. The staff was courteous and helpful, but evidence of guards and security systems provided a grim backdrop. Billy had arranged for Lee to be held in one of the cabins without inside surveillance. Knowing that Lee and Amanda were more than professional partners, he had tried to provide privacy for their last hours together. Amanda's stomach clenched as she realized that the cabin door had no knobs or latches on the inside – a prison indeed. The guards locked them in and drove away. A car would be sent for Amanda at 11:45 – minutes before midnight when Lee would become contagious. Medical staff with biohazard gear would arrive at that time to ease Lee's passing as much as possible – another three or four days.

The heat had been turned on, but the chill February had permeated the tiny building, and Lee busied himself lighting a fire to help warm the cabin. The cabin was homey – a log cabin with smooth walls, a stone fireplace and book shelves. The couch had a quilt along its back with squares of bright colors. The kitchen was furnished and there were adequate supplies for coffee, popcorn, and several simple meals. The agents had searched carefully for hidden microphones or cameras and found none. Finally, it was time for them.

For the first time since hearing the report from Dr. McJohn, they were able to shut out the world and focus on the circumstances together. Lee opened his arms in invitation, and Amanda melted into the shelter of his embrace. Wordlessly, she clung to him daring at last to let down the iron control over her emotions. Lee's arms were like bands of steel around her, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that he briefly wondered if his teeth might crack. Together, they started trembling, and then the tidal wave of tears began flowing from Amanda's eyes. The storm of her sobs broke against him time after time after time. Her grief pierced his heart and he held his breath to contain his own tears.

In all of his planning, he had determined that allowing time for Amanda to vent her emotions would be productive in the long run. And he had judged that the best time for emotions would be during these early hours when he was still waiting for information. He had allotted 30 minutes for tears and recovery. The rigidity of Amanda's body began to relax after 10 minutes, and within 20 minutes, she was wiping her face and sniffing back the last of her tears. She moaned, "Oh, Lee" in a quiet voice filled with sorrow.

He moved them both to the couch and covered their entwined forms with the quilt. Within minutes, the emotional storm had subsided enough for Amanda to sink into an exhausted sleep. Lee held her securely, studying her face and evaluating the case. Waiting here to die was not an option.

There was another personal matter to be decided, and these hours of waiting might be the only time available to act on it. PD2 was a new bacterium. It was spread by air or eating food contaminated with it. Lee doubted that the possibility of passing it in bodily fluids had even been tested. He wasn't contagious yet, but could the immature bacterium be passed to her body only to mature in its new host? As much as he desired intimacy with his fiancee, he couldn't risk infecting her. No, he reluctantly concluded, he would limit himself to kisses, cuddles and words of love.

She woke gently about an hour later to the fresh grief of remembered loss. There were no tears this time, as she gazed deeply into his eyes, and gathered her strength to match his. "What are you going to do?"

"When I was changing clothes, I made a call to Leatherneck, asking him for a few things that might change the game. Depending on what information Francine and Billy can find in the next few hours, I think there's a way for me to still fight." Lee had spent his life fighting external enemies. Having the enemy inside his own body was a new experience. He couldn't run away from it; he couldn't subdue it with fists or bullets. But he could not be passive.

"I examined the phone, and I don't think there's a listening device on it, although I suppose the lines could be tapped from outside. Do you think you could get a computer in here? Maybe, help with the research in some way?" Amanda was grateful for the chance to focus on professional details. Still covered in the quilt and wrapped in his arms, she could maintain the illusion of security.

"That's one option, but I'm hoping I can persuade Billy to let me do some legwork on the streets. I need time to contact my family, shake some bushes to get some leads."

"How do you expect to persuade Mr. Melrose to let you out of here?"

This would be the hard part, and Lee paused, trying to find some way to not tell her about the watch. He expected a stiff argument from her about the device and he would rather avoid it, if possible. On the other hand, it would be good to get the argument behind him and move forward with her cooperation. Taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly with an audible sigh, he decided to tell her now. His eyes searched her face willing her to understand. His arms tightened around her as if to brace her for bad news.

"It's called a "dead man's watch" and it's rigged to deliver a lethal dose of cyanide at a programmed time. Leatherneck will get it for me. Wearing it will assure Billy that I can be on the streets without any danger of spreading this disease, and he can cancel the D-1 against me."

"Lee, you can't plan to kill yourself!" This new threat to his life caused Amanda's "fight or flight" instincts to be fully alert. Her body stiffened in his arms, ready to fight. She pushed against his chest to raise her face even with his. She challenged, "What if there's a sudden leap in developing the antidote, or what if medical treatment can keep the disease from killing you? At least they know what they are dealing with; maybe it won't be fatal. You have to allow time for every opportunity to beat this thing."

"Amanda, it's my life!" His voice was quiet but implacable. "I can't sit here and let other people fight for me. No one wants me to live more than I do, unless it's you. And you're here with me – sidelined, out of the action. I can't live that way, and I won't die that way either." His iron will was embedded in every word. Amanda could feel his heart thundering against her palm and the muscles of his face could not be any tighter.

"Do you think Mr. Melrose will authorize Leatherneck to come here with that... that, thing... and then give the order to let you leave?" She was still fighting. She had barely steeled her resolve to face one threat and another had overtaken the first.

"No. No, that won't work. I'll have to get out of here first. In this case, it's better to ask forgiveness rather than ask for permission that might not be granted." Lee had a sudden thought and instantly decided to go with it. "The same might be true a dozen times in the next several hours and I might not have time to explain every action to you either. I can't wait for permission or even for your understanding. If you're coming with me, you'll have to commit to helping, no questions asked."

Amanda was stunned by his words. Without a doubt, she trusted Lee with her life, but she had a deep-seated distrust of how well he protected his own life. "No questions asked" was a staggering commitment. Like a scratch on a record, the phrase repeated in her head ten times or more. He had baited the trap well. She was incapable of choosing to not go with him; therefore, she must agree to his stipulations. She kept silent while she tried to find a way out of his design. Face-to-face now, strong wills challenging and answering, hazel eyes to brown, a pivotal moment frozen in time. She lowered her eyes in defeat and dropped her head to his chest. "Fine, no questions, Lee." Her body relaxed against his again, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she absorbed the blow of this latest hazard.

He rested his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes in relief. That was brilliant! He was sure that events would begin moving at break-neck speed and being able to dispense with explanations would save valuable time. He knew better than to push it too hard, because her insights could be invaluable, but it would be good to have leverage when timing was crucial.

During check-in, he had gathered enough clues to figure out that guards were posted for 12-hour shifts starting and ending at 11:00. Breaking out would be best timed at the end of the shift when the guards might be tired from a night of diligence. He would make his move at 10:00. That would be two hours from now. He would check-in with Billy in another hour. Maybe they could find Donneck. In the meantime, he would allow himself 30 minutes to be a man in love. There was still so much he wanted to say about his love for her. He shifted and raised her face so that he could gaze into her eyes. His eyes begged forgiveness for the nearly impossible demands upon her. Her courage blazed like a beacon amid these dark dangers. He bent his head to her lips and felt his heart break a little more.