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

“If I shoot, Mann, I shoot to kill.”


“Then who—” What was I doing, asking that of Mark Vincent? Did I actually expect a WBIS agent to be honest with me?


“Can’t imagine.” He grinned, cocky and a little manic. “I take it you’ll survive?”


“Yes, it’s just a flesh wound.” I dismissed it with a negligent shrug. I wasn’t about to let him know I could feel the blood oozing through the makeshift bandage.


“Then I’ll just take this and be on my way.” He reached for the case holding the formula and all of Bruchner’s notes, but I refused to let it go. “Don’t be a dope, Mann. It’s not worth dying for.”


“According to whom?” I didn’t release my grip.


“Look,” he said patiently. “This belongs to Huntingdon.”


Chapter 15