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

It hadn’t taken me long to find out why: he’d thought we were abandoning him to the Archbishop’s mercies. Because Sperling panicked.


The Boss had refused my request to come home, knowing I’d head directly for the man involved and would kill him in spite of his position in the WBIS.


“You need some time to regroup, Vincent. Take it.”


You didn’t say “no” to The Boss, not if you had half a brain. I’d taken the time.


When I’d gotten back, I learned that Sperling was out of town, ostensibly to firm up a Huntingdon contract with a certain senator from the Midwest. I settled in to wait—the cold revenge thing.


Claude. Seaver. Turner. Gone. Countless others as well, because the Archbishop—stupid fucking name for a man to decide to call himself—had continued on his merry fucking way. It had taken me another two years before I cornered the sick son of a bitch and took him out with extreme prejudice.


Chapter 75