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 wasn’t pissed at Quinn for being in such an all-fire rush to make sure I was dead, I’d have slugged this yoyo for his attitude toward him.


“Y’see, Quinn?” And who the fuck was this?


“I’m sorry, I can’t believe that’s Mark Vincent.”


“That’s because that isn’t me,” I snarled as I crossed the tiled floor to join them, Matheson trailing behind me. I let my eyes range over the man beside Quinn, then dismissed him as inconsequential. I’d have no problem taking him down. “Deputy Director Mann. Disappointed?”


Beside me, Matheson murmured, “That’s Mann? I’d have thought he’d be…bigger.”


He was big enough where it mattered, but that was no one else’s business.


A host of expressions chased across Quinn’s face, shock, disbelief, amazement, relief. And then anger so hot I almost expected it to scorch me. Was he going to take a swing at me?


In a flash they were all gone, and he was ice cool. “Glad to know it wasn’t you, Vincent. Let’s go, DB. Good evening, gentlemen.”


Chapter 111