Quinton Mann is CIA through and through. Mark Vincent is WBIS for life. There is no way they could end up as anything other than adversaries -- and yet, Quinn takes Mark out to dinner on his birthday -- the one no one is supposed to know about -- and gives him one hell of a present in the restaurant's restroom. Mark, not to be outdone, has decided to escalate this game, because it has to be a game, right? There's no way it can be anything else.<br><br>But as the game continues, as Quinn shows up to a WBIS funeral, as a friend of Mark’s penetrates the CIA computer network to get information on Quinn, as Mark breaks into Quinn's house and gives Quinn a very interesting encounter, both Quinn and Mark realize that this is becoming the most real thing in their lives.<br><br>Can they find a way to do their jobs and keep this surprising, intriguing connection?

Houseboat on the Nile

I was in a piss-poor mood, and I scowled at the calendar on my desk.


February 25. It hadn’t miraculously changed in the time I’d been down to the cafeteria on two.


Why did I hate birthdays? Let me count the ways.


To begin with, if my actual date of birth was known, I would have been retired from the field five years ago. The WBIS might have a lenient policy when it came to an agent’s sexual orientation, but not so much when it came to an agent’s age: hit thirty-five and you were consigned to a desk, no matter how good you were.


Sure, there were ways to get around minor inconveniences like that, at least there were if you were me. What was in my personal file was what I wanted in that file, that July 4, 1966, was my birthday. As a matter of fact, the fourth was my father’s birthday, and ‘66—well, it was the last good year we’d had as a family.


Chapter 9