Authors: Lora Leigh
chair, crossed an ankle over the opposite knee, and lifted
the cup of coffee from the side table that he
had set there earlier.
Ian stared back at him silently as Diego sipped at the
still warm brew.
"What friends?" he finally asked.
Diego shook his head. "Durango team. I am aware that
they have been staying in the villa with Kira's
bodyguard, Daniel. You could have told me, Ian. I would not
have turned down their help. I would be
curious though, what price do you pay for this help?"
Ian reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Patience
wasn't his strong suit, and the longer this
operation played out, the less patience he had.
"There was no price," he finally answered
honestly, looking back at Diego. "They had information and
the woman and came to me with it. They asked nothing in
return."
"And when this is over?" Diego's voice tightened.
"Will they return to their lives alone, or do you follow
with them?"
He could never return. Ian was smart enough to know that.
He shook his head slowly. "I think you know
as well as I do that there's no going back for me."
He should regret it. Ian knew he should be furious over the
fact that his SEAL career, no matter how this
played out, was over. There was no regret though. A sense
of sadness, yes, but he had been ready for
something else even before coming to Diego.
Diego was nodding slowly, his gaze intent, locked with
Ian's, searching. What the hell was he searching
for? Ian wondered.
"Perhaps I made a mistake in the way I brought you
into my world, into my life," Diego said slowly then.
"But I would have you to know, Ian, that plans were
already in place to help your friends. I would have
let none of them suffer unduly because of our games."
"Except Nathan?" Ian asked softly.
Guilt flickered in Diego's eyes. "I know you are aware
of the things I did to your young friend, but I also
kept him alive. He was not an innocent bystander, Ian. You
know this. He allowed himself to be
captured. He made the choice to attempt to deceive not just
me but Sorrell and Jansen Clay. Had it been
me alone that he attempted to gain his information from, he
would have fared much better."
Ian leaned forward, his arms braced on the desk, murder in
his soul.
"You tortured him for a year after Sorrell finished
with him. You could have made certain he was
rescued; instead, you continued to torture him, to drug him,
to make him break his vows to his wife."
Diego sighed, but there was no regret, only knowledge and
acceptance. "I will say again, Nathan
Malone was no innocent bystander. You know this as well as
I. He had information I could have used,
and he placed himself at my disposal. It is the way of this
world, Ian. It is the way of the world, period.
He made his choices, and still, I made certain he lived,
even knowing this was one thing you may never
forgive me for."
"And the senator's daughters you kidnapped and had
drugged?" Ian asked him. "Did you know one of
them died, Diego, and one of your soldiers raped another? A
sixteen-year-old child, a virgin, and that
bastard raped her in front of her father."
"At her father's orders," Diego snapped.
"The kidnapping of those girls was not my decision, I will take
no responsibility for it. This was the doing of Clay and
Sorrell. To retain the power I needed to fight the
bastards I had no choice but to allow the girls to be
brought to my estate to be held. I am guilty of many
crimes, but those I will not claim."
It took a special kind of monster to compartmentalize
people and torture, Ian figured. The type of man
that deserved to die by whatever means possible.
"You have never understood." Diego shook his head
then. "You are like the religious fanatics. You have
your view, your perception, and you never waver. Those who
do not share this view and perception are
worthy of nothing, no mercy, no chance at life. Is this not
true?"
"You should have been shot like a rabid dog at
birth," Ian growled.
Rather than taking offense, Diego smiled in pride. "My
word is my bond. I do not break it unless others
break theirs. I confine my games to opponents who understand
the rules. Both sides know death could
result. Tell me, Ian, should your new Department of
Homeland Security acquire me, do you believe they
would merely put me on trial? Would I not be beaten,
tortured for the information I have on rival cartels,
on suspects they wish to convict? Do you tell me that these
agents do not kill senselessly when they are
finished with those they abduct for information?"
"I haven't." It happened though, Ian knew it
happened.
Diego leaned forward. "No, but you capture those they
torture. You go in the dead of the night with
your Durango team, you jerk them from their beds and you
give them into the custody of those who do."
"Murders. Rapists. Terrorists. Fucking animals that
would turn the world into a sewer where nothing but
death reigns. For God's sake, Diego, it's hardly the
same."
Ian came out of his chair and paced around the table, the
anger surging through him demanding action of
some kind, of any kind.
"You sit there and argue for your side like Satan
himself, laying out your logic, so certain of your right to
torture, maim, and kill. Because it's a fucking game to
you."
"Because I know this world," Diego yelled, coming
to his feet as his own anger rose to the surface. "Do
you think I do not see what you are doing to the cartel?
Pulling back on the drug shipments, attempting to
legalize our diversified holdings." He snorted in
disgust. "You would bleach me like dirty laundry. Why
would you do this? What is in your mind?"
What was in his mind?
"Maybe I wanted something to leave to my children that
wouldn't get them murdered in their sleep," Ian
snarled.
Diego opened his mouth, snapped it closed, then stared at
Ian in surprise. "You are considering having
children?"
Son of a bitch. Damn the fucking bastard to hell. There was
hope in his voice. Hope, fear, and a hunger
that sickened Ian to his gut.
"I was being rhetorical," Ian snapped, pushing
his fingers through his hair as he glowered at Diego.
"Look, I don't have time for this fight. We'll fight
over this after I deal with Sorrell. Since you know so
fucking much about my business, I'll take this recording
next door and see about neutralizing this bastard
for you. We'll fight about the rest of it later."
He stalked back to his desk, hit the eject button for the
recorder, and collected the tape.
"Ian." Diego stepped in front of him as he turned
to leave, his expression tortured. Tortured, as though
he had a heart, a fucking soul. "I would be a father
if you allowed it. The Fuentes cartel would be as you
want it, should you decide this is your way. The name
Fuentes will live on, and there would be no need
for strife between us. You know business. You have profited
these months you have been here. I would
give this all to you, if you stayed once Sorrell is taken
out of the equation. We could do this, Ian."
No they couldn't, because one of them would be dead.
"We'll talk about this later, Diego." He shook
his head as he pushed past him and headed for the door.
He couldn't talk about it now, there were too many plans to
make, too much to do. And he couldn't
make plans like this, couldn't be a part of this even as he
was plotting Diego's death.
As he walked through the foyer, Cristo behind him while
Trevor preceded him, he suddenly saw himself,
not as he had thought he was, but how he might look through
another's eyes. A man cold-bloodedly
plotting the death of his father.
Did it matter that the father was a monster? Did it matter
that once the Fuentes cartel fell, he intended to
leave it and the various businesses resulting from it in
the dust for the vultures to pick over?
As he stepped into the Rover, Trevor taking the driver's
seat and Cristo moving into the front passenger
seat as protection, Ian stared through the tinted glass of
the door's window and rubbed his hand over his
face in frustration.
He had cold-bloodedly planned this before he ever came to
the cartel. Two years of planning, plotting,
inspiring just the right amount of curiosity in the right
places to draw Diego in.
A man alone, grieving for the loss of his youngest son,
without an heir or a family with the exception of a
few cousins. A man rumored to have cherished his wife and
son. Diego had cherished his son to the point
that he had infected the young man with the same evil that
filled himself.
An evil Ian couldn't afford to allow to survive.
As Trevor pulled from the gated villa estate and turned
into the driveway to Kira's villa beside it, Ian
couldn't help but worry about this thing with Sorrell.
He wasn't known for his predictability, or keeping his
word. Not that Ian could expect a terrorist to be
known for his word; still, it would have been nice if he
were the game player Diego was. With a man like
Diego, you knew the rules. Adhere to them, or the game is
off and there are no holds barred. In Sorrell's
case, it was no holds barred from the beginning. He dealt
in terror, in death. It wasn't a business to him, it
was a religion.
Stepping from the Rover, he had Trevor and Mendez wait
outside the house where Kira had obviously
left Deke. Stepping up to the wide sheltered doorway, Ian
knocked firmly and waited as Daniel opened
the door.
"Come on in." Daniel was back in bodyguard mode
as he opened the door and stepped back. The
minute Ian entered the house, the door closed and locked
solidly behind him, and Daniel's demeanor
changed.
"We have them in a small servant's room under the
stairs, it seemed the most unlikely place to hide the
daughter of an international terrorist." Daniel shook
his head at the thought. "That was a good idea
sending the Fuentes soldiers to guard the warehouse in
town. Kell is reporting some interest there by a
few unidentified subjects, but so far, nothing on this
end."
They stepped beneath the curving staircase where Daniel
pushed open a swinging door. It wasn't exactly
hidden, but anyone swarming the house would bypass it on
first look and continue on to the back of the
villa or upstairs.
They stepped into a long narrow room. Ian pulled the
recording from his pocket and tossed it to Macey
as he stared around the room.
Reno leaned against the wall watching as Kira and Tehya sat
on the half bed and talked. Macey had his
laptop set up on a small wooden table and nearby dresser.
Jamming equipment and satellite link antennae
shared space with additional external hard drives and other
paraphernalia that Macey considered his
base setup.
Kira watched him silently. He knew the question running
through all their minds.
"Sorrell made contact. It's happening at midnight at the
villa. What kind of support are we going to
have?" He directed that question to Reno, whom he knew
always had backup.
Reno's lips quirked into a grin as he leaned lazily against
the far wall, his M-16 cradled in his arms.
Macey nodded and Tehya paled. The resignation that shadowed
Kira's eyes had him watching her
harder, more intently. He'd had a feeling she was in Aruba
for more than sex or love when she first
arrived. He hadn't altered that opinion, though he knew sex
and love had definitely added in to the factors
that had pulled her here.