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phone until the front door bell rang with his General Tao’s chicken and pork fried rice with two spring rolls.

    He dashed upstairs, stripped off all his clothes, and jumped into the shower to wash off the day’s sweat. Minutes later, he stepped out of the two-man shower he had built into the house when there were two men to share it. He dried off as Max watched from the bed.

    After slipping on some gym shorts and an FBI T-shirt, he headed downstairs in his bare feet. He put a dinner plate and silverware on the table, poured himself some Diet Seven Up, and waited for the doorbell.

    As usual, when it rang, Max was at the front door growling before John could make a move. When he opened the door, he found the same smiling face he always did on the deliveryman holding the brown paper bag. John took the bag and handed the deliveryman a five for his trouble. Since he had an account at the restaurant that he settled at the end of the month, he didn’t have to pay anything else then and there.

    He took the bag to the table and sat down with Max sitting nearby, hoping for a piece of chicken and some rice. Max was not to be disappointed, for at the end of the meal, he was treated to two pieces of chicken, some rice, and a piece of broccoli, much to his delight. After cleanup, John and Max went into the living room, where the evening news was on the television and a comfortable seat on the sofa was waiting for both man and dog.

    The story that captured John’s attention was a report on the increase in bank robberies in Tampa. They seemed to have been committed by the same men, according to details he picked up from the report. John made a mental note to request a briefing from the Tampa SAC in the morning in case this criminal outfit moved into his territory.

    After the news, Max got a bowl of dry dog food and a large Milk-Bone to finish off his repast, and then he went with John out into the yard to inspect the current tomato crop. Pleased with what he saw, John picked some of the lower-hanging bright red tomatoes that he enjoyed growing each summer.

    He stored them in the refrigerator and went back into the living room, where Max knew it was now time for his master to once again sit on the sofa and watch the thing that the voices came from for at least a couple of more hours.

    John found a movie on HBO he hadn’t seen, and that finished out the night. Max was let out once more, and after the house was checked to be sure all was secure, up to the bedroom they went. John always brought up his service weapon and put it on the nightstand next to the bed. He got settled on the bed with the ceiling fan set on medium, and he and Max drifted off to sleep while John was thinking about his new agent.

    As the night wore on, John dreamed about a torrid love affair with Agent Robert Capparell that involved heavy man-on-man sex that seemed to satisfy every bit of John. Much to his embarrassment, John woke during his first nocturnal emission since his teen years and was forced to get out of bed and clean himself up before going back to sleep.

    The next morning while showering, he thought about his wet dream and why it had occurred. What was it about this new guy that got so far under John’s skin? Sure, Capparell was a hot, well-built young guy with the looks of a GQ model, but besides those things, what was so special about him?

    John forced himself to stop thinking about the new man and willed his dick to go down. He got dressed, let Max back into the house, put on his shield and weapon, and patted Max on the head one final time that morning.

    “You be a good boy, and the neighbor will be by in a few hours to let you out. Please don’t try and eat her, okay, boy?”

    Max looked as if grinning at the joke about eating the fat lady who gave him treats when she came to let him out. He watched sadly as his daddy left the house and he heard the familiar sound of the lock being turned.

    Coffee obtained, John was back in his office for the start of another day. As per the routine, he was reading the reports that he read every morning. At nine o’clock, he dialed the number for his counterpart in Tampa and asked to speak with him.

    “Hi. John, what brings your attention to me this fine, hot, muggy morning?” Agent Kentwell asked.

    “Hi, Gary. Look, I saw a news report last night on your bank robberies. You got any solid leads on who they are or where they might be headed?”

    “Ahh, you’re worried they might enter