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.
That flash of emotion that he saw in her gaze proved it, and he prepared himself to defend against whatever might come from it.
She was a DHS contract operative, she had come there with DHS backing, and he knew it. She wouldn't have come without orders. Orders that she hadn't told him about, and he hadn't pushed to find out.
Pushing meant possibly not liking the truth, and though Ian was the type of man who believed in facing reality at all times, he didn't wa
nt to face reality with Kira until he had no other choice.
"We have two SEAL teams off the coast, waiting," Reno reported as Ian held his hand out to Kira. "They'll move in when we give the word."
"Move Miss Talamosi to the Fuentes villa after dark," he told them as Kira took his hand and he pulled her to his side. "Diego knows you're here. I don't want to take the chance that anyone else does, and she'll be better protected if we don't have to split our forces."
"How did he find out?" Kira bit at her bottom lip as he stared down at her, her expression concerned.
"With Diego, only God knows." Ian shook his head. "He didn't say how he knew, but he knows. We'll pull together tonight and get things in place. Keep Durango team hidden at all costs until the meet; we don't want Sorrell warned ahead of the game."
He outlined the layout for the negotiations, watching as Macey frowned and made notes on a legal pad at his side and Reno nodded thoughtfully. Through it all, Tehya sat stoically on the bed, her head lowered, her hands clenched tightly together.
"He'll have men move into place after he arrives," Tehya said softly, once Ian had finished. "A large contingent of men, highly trained and heavily armed. Once he leaves, all hell will be laid on the villa."
"He won't be leaving alive," Ian reminded her.
Tehya inhaled roughly. "And all hell will be visited the moment they believe there are any problems. Sorrell times everything. He's fanatical about it. It's nearly as important as whatever ideal he fights for. If he doesn't call the attack off, then it will commence at a certain deadline, no matter where he is in the game. You must be prepared for that."
Ian nodded toward Macey. "I recorded our conversation," he said to Tehya. "You can go over it with the team, give him what details you may remember. At ten we'll meet at the villa and prepare for the meeting."
"I want that weapon, Mr. Richards," she told him again, her voice low but throbbing with determination. "I can't be taken alive by him."
Ian glanced at Reno. The other man's gaze was compassionate, and concerned.
"There's always the chance you could be rescued, Tehya. If something like that happened, we wouldn't stop searching for you."
Her lips twisted at his promise. "Perhaps you could, but not before he allows my half brother to breed me. You see, it's not love that drives Sorrell to find me. He chose the woman to breed his child with, hoping it would be a daughter. He chose her specifically for her bloodlines, her character, and her strength. He wanted a daughter, a half sister for the son he bred for the same qualities. I won't be raped by my brother, not even for a chance at escape."
* * *
Twenty-eight
IAN GAVE TEHYA A GUN. His backup weapon, small and compact, but it didn't take a large gun to commit suicide.
Ian filled Kira in on the confrontation between himself and Diego as well as the fact that Diego was aware of Durango team's involvement. She learned that Diego was also questioning Ian's plans once Sorrell was taken care of.
When they returned to the villa, Ian cleared the servants from the house, sent them back to Palm Beach, and placed a complete lockdown on any transmissions into or out of the villa that he didn't make or take himself.
Fuentes soldiers were positioned around the grounds, but none were inside the villa. Deke, Trevor, Cristo, and Mendez were busy securing the room to be used for the meeting, and Diego was sitting in the living room alone, a glass of whisky in his hand, the bottle at his side, though it didn't appear he was seriously drinking the liquor.
"Ian." He came to his feet as they entered the foyer, the bodyguards still surrounding them protectively. "Garcia was here moments ago. He asked to speak to you regarding the additional men sent to the warehouse. I was not certain how you wished to handle them."
She felt Ian's hand tense at her back as he sighed roughly.
"I need to take care of this," he told her, brushing her forehead with a light kiss as he stepped away. "I'll leave Deke and Mendez with you. I shouldn't be gone long."
She nodded, watching as he moved toward the back of the villa, his tall, leanly muscled body tense and prepared for battle.
When he disappeared into the back hall, she turned to Deke and Mendez. "Why don't the two of you go on to the kitchen and eat," she told them, aware that they had missed lunch while she met with Tehya.
Deke stared back at her, his gaze flat before glancing back at Diego. It was obvious he didn't trust Ian's father, and she couldn't blame him much.
"If you need us, just yell," he murmured.
"I'll be fine," she assured him.
Deke and Mendez didn't hide their reluctance to leave her, but they did anyway. As they headed into the kitchen Kira stepped slowly into the darkened room.
"Saul isn't with you?" She looked around the room as Diego watched her carefully.
"I sent Saul back to Colombia to oversee the estate there several days ago." He shrugged, his face shadowed as she moved to the chair across from him. "He is old. This is not the place for him."
As he resumed his seat she watched as he gripped the glass of liquor between his hands and stared into it as though he weren't certain if he should drink it or throw it.
"Saul was your father's advisor, wasn't he?" she asked.
She was taking advantage of this chance to talk to him, free of Ian's disapproving gaze or the bodyguards' obvious curiosity.
Diego smiled fondly at the question. "He and my father, they began the cartel. Saul was his most trusted friend. He returned to help me after Carmelita's death."
He hadn't mentioned his youngest son, but then she had heard that he didn't.
"Ian, he has completed this promise he made to me quickly, has he not?" Diego asked then. "I asked him to return to rid me of this problem that Sorrell represents. I did not expect him to do this so quickly."
Sadness filled the monster's voice.
"He's very competent," she agreed as she leaned forward, gripped the decanter of whisky and one of the extra glasses on the table.
As she poured, she was aware of Diego's eyes on her, his gaze thoughtful.
"You remind me much of his mother, Marika." Diego sighed. "She had spirit as well. But a spirit filled with grace. She was a lady. You too have this."
She looked up as she returned the decanter to the table and leaned back in her chair.
"His mother is a very strong woman, she's had to be. I take that as an incredible compliment."
"As well you should." He nodded. "It was meant as one."
He sipped at his drink then, his expression still though somber, his position relaxed. It wasn't a relaxation that bespoke confidence though, it was more wearied acceptance.
Kira sipped at the smooth, expensive whisky and continued to watch him, wondering what caused the small frown between his brows, and realizing that Ian had much that same look when something was bothering him.
"Ian frowns like that when he's thinking." She shared her thought, offering him a small smile as he lifted his head in surprise.
"He reminds me much of myself, sometimes." He nodded, a small, subdued smile tugging at his lips. "He is a good man. A man to be proud of."
Kira nodded rather than speaking.
"He has no pride in his father," he said, his voice almost a whisper now. "No pride in the world I have built for myself nor what I represent. He calls me 'pop,' thinking I am not aware of the condescending meaning behind it. He believes I do not know that he came to me, not for who I am, but for that which I can give him. Sorrell."
He tossed the drink back then reached for the decanter and poured another.
"What did you expect, Mr. Fuentes?" She was careful to keep her voice gentle, without judgment.
He nodded slowly. "I should be angry." He lifted his eyes to flash a quick look at her, mocking self-disgust lining his expression now. "I should be angry with my father, with Carmelita for the hell she caused him and Marika. I should be angry with my father for the deception that stole Ian's mother from my arms. Wh
y am I not angry, Miss Porter?"
He watched her as though genuinely confused by this.
"Perhaps I have grown weak?" he asked then. "I am growing old, my youth is gone. Perhaps this is what comes of a man realizing his chances are gone. When I was young, there was always next year to fix those things I thought I should fix. Next year to atone for the deaths of my brothers. Next year to rail at Carmelita for more children. Next year. Always next year, until one day I awoke to learn that next year could not fix those mistakes I had made."
Shock held her silent now. This was the monster? This man, not broken, not weak, but realizing the choices and the consequences of his life.
"You killed your brothers," she said quietly. "Their wives, their children, because they wanted out of the cartel."
"Is that what you think? That I took those lives simply because they would betray me to your American government?" He laughed at that, though the sound was bitter. "How I wish it had been so simple. That my treachery and blood thirst was so blackened by evil." He shook his head. "No, Miss Porter, I killed in an act of rage. The explosion that destroyed the home I had given Marika, I learned had been set because my brothers had betrayed her location to my enemies. This I was told, and in my grief, I took all they held dear as well, before killing them." He shook his head then. "I should have known better. I should have seen that the madness that was affecting my father at that time couldn't be trusted."
"Your father told you they were the reason Marika was dead?"
"He told me that my brothers were aligning themselves with our enemies, and it was true that they were. It was only later that I learned that it had not been my brothers who betrayed Marika's home, but Carmelita. She did so after my father went to Ian's mother, told her of the business of the cartel, told her that I was vile, deceitful, and all but wed to another. He told her I would kill her once our child was born."