CHAPTER 71

PART 1

When Lee Stetson arrived at the hospital, a man who, judging by his uniform, had to be one of Colonel McJohn's, greeted him. Wordlessly, the man led him down the corridors until they reached a small private room.

Without any emotion, the man instructed Lee to wait, that someone would be with him soon.

Lee sat down in the chair, impatient for answers, eager to see his stepson and filled with the need to know that everything was going to be fine. He gazed around the room, taking in the few chairs and one lone couch. He wondered how many individuals had sat there, awaiting news on their loved one and how many of them had heard the words that nobody ever wants to hear.

He barely registered the paintings that depicted serene country settings or the cross that hung on the one wall. Likewise, his surveying eyes scarcely registered the fact that there were frayed tears in the carpet in the one corner and what looked like a baby's pacifier peeking out from behind the television that wasn't turned on.

Finally, his gaze settled on the clock and his eyes watched the slow ticking of the second hand as it worked round the clock, time and time again.

An eternity seemed to crawl by until the Colonel joined him and Lee stood up quickly, the questions beginning to rush from him.

"Whoa, Lee, hold on," McJohn said as he held up his hands to stop the barrage. "Why don't we sit down for a minute?"

McJohn indicated the chair that Lee had just sprang from and, judging from the look on the Colonel's face, Lee could only assume that he wasn't going to get any answers until he did what the man requested.

So, he did the only thing that he could do. Lee Stetson sat back down.

PART 2

Amanda sat up in the bed, sipping at glass of very cold and very refreshing iced tea. She was trying to keep her mind from thinking too much, but all of the thoughts and all of the worries didn't seem to want to go away.

She only knew that Lee had gone to be there when the boys and Joe returned. If anyone knew anything else, they certainly weren't telling. Francine had quickly made herself scarce once she knew that Amanda was awake and going to stay that way for awhile. Doctor Kelford had been in several times to check on her and seemed immensely happy to tell Amanda that her fever had, once again, gone back down.

Amanda subconsciously rubbed her arm where yet another injection of potent antibiotics had been administered. Her arm was already bruised, the dark area an interesting shade of purple and blue against her lightly tanned flesh.

She wondered till it was all said and done just how bruised her arm would be.

Jeannie had awakened and, after ensuring that Amanda would be fine if left on her own for awhile, had gone in search of her husband.

That left Amanda by herself, with a head full of worry in regards to her children and her ex-husband. If she would have felt any better, she would have crawled out of the bed and gone in search of the answers.

Of course, she had tried that once, right after Jeannie had left. That attempt had left her seeing stars and crashing back down on the bed with a thud that clearly told her that she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

There was nothing that she could do, for the moment, except drink her tea and hope that everything was going to be okay.

PART 3

Leatherneck glanced over at the sleeping boy in the passenger seat. Jamie hadn't stirred once, a testament to the fact that he had to be exhausted.

To take away the boredom, Leatherneck and Beaman had chatted quietly, comparing notes about what they had done on their vacations prior to being called back to duty.

Truthfully, Leatherneck had always assumed that Beaman was little more than one of those nerdy geeks who had kept his head in a book the entire way through his educational years. In fact, Dwayne could never understand why the brainiac that he had dubbed "squirrel" was even in the intelligence community at all.

What he learned on the trip back from Pennsylvania, during that hushed conversation, surprised him just a little. Maybe there was more to Beaman than just spouting facts and figures and the once a year pursuit of Francine Desmond during the holidays.

Of course, Agency regulations applied, even here in the black Bronco that wove its way through the lunch time traffic. Some things were just meant to remain classified, even if it did concern the "squirrel".