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

There were too many fucking “ifs.” I began to gather myself together to make my move.


“Yes, I’m quite aware that on your next birthday, you will turn thirty-six.”


Unobtrusively, I relaxed my muscles. He didn’t know I was actually forty. I still faced being a pencil-pusher, riding a desk. But maybe—


I decided to see how this hand played out. “May I ask what my options are, sir?”


“Option, singular, Mr. Vincent. I’m assigning you to work in Interior Affairs as Mr. Sperling’s deputy director. Bob needs someone to take up some of his workload. He has become—” The Boss didn’t look happy.


Yeah, I knew what Sperling had become—the same thing he’d always been: a fucking waste of space.


Interior Affairs was the worst-run department in the WBIS. It dealt with anything going on within the forty-eight contiguous states and had the highest attrition rate of any in the WBIS, mostly because agents who had any experience managed to find ways not to work for him.


Chapter 72