by Tinnean
“Hardly, Mother.” Unlike me and Father, she had no problem dozing on transoceanic flights.
“Just a second, sweetheart. Gregor has something.”
“It’s from a florist, Portia,” I heard over the phone. “Who’s sending you flowers?”
“If it’s not you, dear one, then I have no idea. Hold on, please, Quinton.”
“Of course, Mother.”
I could hear the rustling of paper and then, “Oh! How lovely! Coral roses and an embossed silver vase! Here’s wishing you both many years of happiness. All my best… Oh, how thoughtful. They’re from Mark. I must send him a thank you note.”
It was thoughtful, and while I was touched that my lover would do something like that, I wasn’t surprised.
“It’s a damned good thing they aren’t red roses.” Gregor didn’t sound too happy. “I’ll go put the flowers in the vase.”
“Thank you, Gregor.”
“And then we have to go!”
“Sweetheart—”
“I heard him. I’ll have to go too. I want Janet to schedule an appointment with Bram, and then I’ll need to make sure I leave everything in order for her. Is there anything you want me to pick up for you?”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
“Then I’ll see you at three thirty.”
“Excellent. Good-bye, sweetheart.”
“Good-bye, Mother.”
I hung up and pressed my assistant’s number on the intercom. “Janet, would you call Rayner’s office? I have to see him when he has a moment.”
“I’ll get right on it, Quinn.”
I was surprised when a short time later she buzzed me to let me know Rayner had a few minutes right then.
“Thank you, Janet.” I rose, put on my suit jacket, and left to see my director.
As I’d assured Mother, Rayner was anxious to make up for what Holmes had done: he had no objection to my request.
“At any rate, things are quiet enough here just now. Enjoy your vacation, and please give your mother my best.”
“I will. Thank you, Bram.” We shook hands, and I returned to my office. “Janet, reschedule any meetings I have for the rest of the week. I’ll be out of the office for about seven days, starting tomorrow.”
“I’ll get right on it. Quinn, you have a visitor.”
For a second my heart thudded heavily, but then I had to laugh at myself. Mark would never come to Langley. Not to say he wouldn’t encroach on Company grounds, but not for coming to take me to lunch.
As it turned out, it was my friend DB, lounging casually against my desk, studying a framed photo of my mother taking a water jump, back when she used to compete.
“DB.”
“Hi, Quinn. She’s one classy lady.”
“I think so. Why don’t you take a seat?” I sat down myself, but DB just stood there fidgeting.
“She kind of reminds me of my own mom.”
“Oh? How so?”
“The shape of her nose. The curve of her cheekbones.”
I hadn’t thought he was going to mention physical qualities, and that surprised me. While I’d seen a photo of his family that DB carried, it wasn’t clear enough for me to make out specific qualities. “Well, we’re all supposed to have a double, aren’t we?”
He shrugged and set the picture down. “Next time you see Portia, tell her I said hi.”
“I will. Actually, I’ll see her tomorrow morning. We’re flying to London.”
“Does Rayner know?”
“I just got back from informing him.”
“How come?” He covered his face with his palm. “I meant how come you’re accompanying your mother to London?”
I looked at my watch. “Why don’t you have lunch with me? I’ll fill you in then.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
I pushed my chair back and rose. “Was there something I could help you with?”
“No.”
“David, do you expect me to believe you came into my office to express your admiration of my mother and wrangle a lunch invitation from me?”
“Yes?” He saw I wasn’t accepting it. He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I do need to talk to you.”
“All right, then. How does Harry’s Hat sound?” The restaurant, built to resemble an antebellum plantation house, was only about a five minute drive from Langley. No one quite knew how it had come to get that name—or if they did, they weren’t saying. The ground floor front contained a very elegant mahogany bar, with a brass foot rail and full length mirror behind the bar, while at the rear of the ground floor was a small restaurant that offered excellent food. My uncle Bryan had mentioned it once, years ago, and I’d been impressed when I’d eventually tried it.
I’d also been intrigued to learn the upper floors provided suites of rooms for interested guests.
“Great idea. It’s close enough so that we don’t have to worry about having a couple of drinks.”
“No.” That was the reason why I’d never invited Mark to spend the night with me there or even taken him to dinner there.
I got my overcoat and slid my arms into the sleeves. “Janet,” I said as we walked through her office, “DB and I will be having lunch at Harry’s Hat if you need to contact me. Why don’t you take lunch yourself?”
“Thanks, Quinn. I will.”
Chapter 6
The host smiled as we approached his station. “Ah, Mr. Cooper. How nice to see you again. Will your colleagues be joining you today?”
Scarlet ran from his throat to the tips of his ears. “Uh, not today.”
I didn’t call him on it by saying I was a colleague.
“Such a shame,” the host said. “If you’ll follow me?”
I could see how relieved DB was that he’d dropped it.
The host led us to a small table set with a lovely tablecloth, crystal glasses, and elegant plates and silverware. A small vase of daffodils with dark yellow cups and pale perianths sat in the center of the table. “Your menus.” He handed them to us and left.
Before we could begin to peruse them, a waiter came to our table, and he seemed very pleased to see DB. “Hi, Mr. Cooper! Will you have your usual beer?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“And for you, sir?”
“Bring me whatever Mr. Cooper is having.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you. So tell me, DB—”
He had his head buried in the menu. “Y’know, I think I’ll have the French dip with fries.”
I’d had the shaved prime rib on a baguette here before, and it was tasty. “Sounds like a good idea. Now—”
Our waiter arrived with our beers, and set one before each of us. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yes.” We gave him our selections, and he hurried off to put them in.
“What’s going on, Quinn? How come you’re going to London?”
I decided I might as well let him steer the conversation in this direction. “Mother is involved with someone.”
“Really?” He smiled. “Gregor?”
I stared at him open-mouthed. “How did you know? Not even M—” I cleared my throat and changed what I’d been about to say to, “Not even my uncles were aware of that!”
“Seriously, Quinn?” Fortunately he was laughing too hard to pick up on the slip I’d almost made. No one other than my family knew I was in a relationship with Mark. “I’d had a feeling since the Christmas I spent with you a couple of years ago. You never said anything about it, so I figured it was either a family secret or it just hadn’t gone anywhere.”
“Well, I had no idea. I should have been aware. I am disappointed in myself.”
“Nah, you shouldn’t be. You know how it is. When you’re that close, there’s a good possibility you can miss stuff.” He reached across the table and patted my arm. “I’m glad it worked out for them. Your mother is a wonderful woman, and Gregor is a nice man. So what does that have to do with the trip to London?”
&nbs
p; “We’re going to see Jack Abberley—”
“Who?”
“He’s Mother’s godmother’s son.” I swallowed a smile, having little doubt that Mark would know who Jack Abberley was without having to ask.
“Okay. Why?”
“Mother feels it’s only right to inform him in person that she and Gregor are in a relationship.”
“What’s it to him?”
“He’s been in love with her for years, and as a matter of fact, at one point asked her to consider marrying him.”
“Wrong move. If he was serious, he just should have laid his cards on the table.”
“May I assume—Oh, thank you.”
The waiter placed our lunch before us. “Anything else, gentlemen?”
“No, we’re good.” I waited until he left. “May I assume that’s what you plan to do?”
The laughter in his eyes dimmed and went out. “I did. They said no.”
“You asked them to marry you?”
“Not exactly. I’m going out to San Fran for Mother’s Day, and I asked them to come along. I was going to introduce them to Mom. They refused. They said she wouldn’t be able to accept what we have—that she’d probably give us three separate bedrooms or put one or the other of them in with me. I told L- her we could get a hotel room, but she wouldn’t change her mind. She and my other lady were together before they asked me to join them. I... I guess I was rushing things.”
“But you’ve been with them for almost a year. That’s hardly rushing things.”
“Maybe if it’s just you and one woman it’s not, but when it’s more than one....”
“Ah, DB, I’m sorry. Have you broken up with your ladies?”
“No. At least I hope not. They said what we have is fine the way it is, that it’s not broken, so why fix it? But if I... if I didn’t feel that way, then maybe we should take some time apart.”
“Oh, hell.”
“I want them tied to me, Quinn. I wanted kids with them, but if that’s not what they want, then screw it. I can live without kids.”
“Can you?” I asked softly. Lately the desire for a family of my own was starting to niggle at the edges of my mind. Once DB felt the urge to become a father, would he ever be able to ignore it?
But he didn’t seem to hear me and just continued. “I’m not walking away from them, Quinn. I may not be able to have a piece of paper that states legally we’re a family, but as far as I’m concerned, we are. Stupid laws.” Abruptly he stared at me. “What about you? At least there’s nothing standing in your way. Are you and your lady going to tie the knot?”
I looked away. “No.” If same-sex marriages were legal.... But they weren’t. DB was right. They were stupid laws. Although I didn’t even know if Mark would be willing to marry me, or if, like DB’s ladies, he’d feel why fix what wasn’t broken.
“That sucks. Y’know something, buddy? Both our love lives suck. Let’s get drunk.”
“Not something I can do, DB. This beer won’t even give me a buzz.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Okay, then. Let’s get back to Portia and Gregor. At least they’re happy together.”
“Yes, it seems they are.”
“So why are you flying to London and not Gregor?”
“Mother feels it would be rubbing Lord Creighton’s face in the fact that she doesn’t care for him in that way.”
“She’s a good woman. I wouldn’t have minded having her for a mom. Oh, not that my mother isn’t a great mom, but she does tend to be overprotective. The guys my older sisters dated in high school practically had to go through a background check almost as thorough as when we applied to the CIA. My youngest sister has it a bit easier now.” He grinned across the table at me. “Had I told you she’s engaged?”
“No.”
“The wedding is for this Christmas.” The mention of weddings seemed to sadden him
“I always regretted never having siblings.”
“Hey, consider me your brother.”
I grinned across the table at him, pleased my words had cheered him. “Thank you, DB.”
“And as your brother, I think it’s only right that you tell me who this lady is that you’ve been seeing.”
“Nice try. Are you going to tell me?”
He dunked his sandwich into the jus, took a huge bite, and shook his head.
“In that case, let’s finish lunch. I need to get back and clear off my desk before I leave for the day.”
I glanced at my watch. Although it was midafternoon, my day was over—well, the work aspect of it. I relaxed back in my chair and made a mental list of what I had to do before I went to bed that night: notify the post office to hold my mail, stop my newspaper, call Mark. I thought of the night before and smiled. And perhaps have another round of phone sex.
My trousers had grown snug, and I adjusted them. It was time to go home. I was about to rise to retrieve my overcoat and umbrella when my intercom buzzed. “Yes, Janet?”
“I have Rayner on the line for you. He says it’s important.”
“All right, put him through.” In a matter of seconds, I was speaking to him. “What can I do for you, Bram?”
“Jenner just contacted me.”
Neil Jenner was acting Director of Threat Analysis, having replaced Holmes after Holmes’s resignation.
“I need you to meet me in his office. This is... it’s unbelievable. What do you know of Anson Davies?”
“I’ve heard the name.” I also knew he was one of the WBIS directors who had a hard-on for my lover, as Mark liked to describe it, but since that wasn’t something I should know, I wasn’t likely to mention it.
“He runs the Public Relations department of the WBIS. Or perhaps I should say he ran it. He’s been given a compulsory retirement, and he’s not happy about it.”
“I would imagine not.” WBIS directors seemed to die behind their desks, while their agents died out in the field.
“Yes. Apparently he wants to make a deal with us.”
“Do we know why?”
“We’re about to find out. He’s in Jenner’s office, and that’s why I want you to meet me there.”
“I’m on my way.” I left my overcoat and umbrella, told Janet she could leave for the day, and strode through the corridors to Jenner’s office.
The door was open, but I tapped on it anyway. Jenner sat behind his desk, and at his shoulder stood a young man with whom I was unfamiliar, but who I assumed was his personal assistant, just as Janet was mine.
Bram was already there, and he looked around. “Come in, Quinn.”
Jenner cleared his throat pointedly, and Bram sighed.
“Sorry, Jenner.”
Jenner nodded. That made him happy. “Come in, Mann.”
I walked in, refraining from revealing any sort of surprise when I saw the other occupants in the office.
Seated across from Jenner was a man whose age was hinted at by the streaks of gray in his hair and the lines that etched his face. I’d never met Anson Davies, but this had to be him.
They weren’t alone. Also there was General Kirkpatrick and Major Drum.
Why was the OIG being represented?
“All right, everyone’s here.” Jenner raked his gaze over me, then turned to Davies. “Director Davies, this is Deputy Director Mann. Bram, Mann, you know General Kirkpatrick and Major Drum.” He gestured toward the man beside him. “Taylor, my assistant.”
“Director Davies.” I extended my hand, and when he took it, his palm felt dry and cracked. I released it and turned to the others. “General. Major. Taylor.” We shook hands, and with the introductions out of the way, the meeting got underway, but not before Drum gave me a meaningful stare.
He couldn’t possibly think I worked that fast. I kept my expression cool.
“I’ll get right to the point, gentlemen,” Davies said. “I want Mark Vincent gone. I think we’re all working on the same page with regard to that. If you get rid of him, I’ll give you information about
every operation run by Vincent for the past ten years and the ones in the planning stage for the next three years.”
“Why should we care about what went on ten years ago?” Drum asked.
Davies sneered at him. “I think you’ll want to know what happened in South America at that time.”
“With Vincent? Something to do with taking revenge for what was done to his partner, wasn’t it?” For the first time, Kirkpatrick seemed interested. Or perhaps it was just that he allowed his interest to show.
“Among other things.”
“What other things?” Drum was practically vibrating with excitement, and Kirkpatrick frowned at him.
“Prague. Belarus. Ho Chi Minh City.”
“Ho Chi Minh City?” Drum didn’t seem to know whether to be impressed or dismayed. An SRV operative—formerly KGB—had been given the assignment of accompanying a North Korean to Moscow, only the North Korean had wound up floating in the Mekong River. Rumor had it Mark Vincent had been involved.
As for the SRV agent, once he’d learned Mark was most likely behind it, rumor also had it he’d burst into tears and defected.
“Is there an echo in here?” Davies snapped.
Kirkpatrick gave Drum a discreet signal to shut his mouth.
“If I might continue?” Satisfied he had everyone’s attention, Davies jabbed his finger in the air, emphasizing his point. “Wallace made sure to have complete records of everything Vincent was involved in,” he said smugly. “I have copies on my hard drive.”
“The WBIS is more than Mark Vincent,” I said. I had to tread warily here.
“Do you really think so? Trevor Wallace has plans for him.” Davies tried to hide how that made him feel, but some of his disgruntlement slipped through.
“What—” Jenner and Kirkpatrick both leaned forward, very interested now. Even Bram was intrigued.
“No.” Davies smirked. “We come to an agreement, and then you’ll get the information you want. You’ll have the files of every agent, director, and deputy director. You’ll take down the WBIS.” His gaze went from Jenner to Kirkpatrick. Apparently he felt the rest of us were immaterial.
“You know we’ll need to verify the information you have given us.” Jenner tapped a couple of floppy discs on his desk, good faith tokens, no doubt.
