Quinton Mann, a highly ranked CIA officer, is used to being called the Ice Man. He’s astounded to discover himself in a relationship with Mark Vincent, not because Vincent is a man, but because he’s a top-rated WBIS agent. There they are though, for a total of five glorious days. But when Mark uses the excuse of going to Massachusetts for his mother’s funeral to end their relationship, Quinn’s not buying it.<br><br>No one screws with Mark Vincent. Even Mark doesn't screw with himself. Once he realizes how close he's allowed Quinton Mann to get to him, he does what any self-respecting spy would do -- he makes tracks out of there. But Quinn does something no one else ever has -- he comes after Mark. Maybe this relationship thing with a spook isn’t such a bad idea.<br><br>Meanwhile, something strange is going on in the intelligence community worldwide. It takes Quinn’s disappearance while investigating a rogue antiterrorism organization that results in Mark making up his mind. Quinn may be a spook, but he’s Mark’s spook, dammit -- and once he gets Quinn home, he intends to keep him. He knows without a doubt he’ll find Quinn. The question is, will he find Quinn in time?

Not My Spook

It was almost eight by the time I parked my car and let myself into my building.


I wasn’t exactly looking forward to staring at four walls or even seeing what RobertOsborne had to say about the classic movie that was about to air, so on the spur of the moment, I decided to talk to Theo, my landlord.


I’d been raised on coffee that came already ground and in a can—Maxwell House, Chock full o’Nuts, A&P. If my old lady wasn’t hungover, and if she was feeling ambitious, she’d brew a pot. Otherwise it was instant from a jar. It didn’t matter to me, as long as it had caffeine.


Quinn, on the other hand, preferred fresh-ground coffee, so I’d read up on it and bought an electric grinder. I’d given some thought to picking up a French press, butit sat there on the shelf trying to look innocent. Innocent, my ass. What it was really trying to do was intimidate me. Fucking French gadget. Well, that would be thefucking day.


Chapter 101