Killer Secrets (28 page)

"We are here to discuss weapons, my friend."
Josef smiled easily once again. "I am willing to make you a

onetime deal at a wholesale price in apology for the
assassin that showed up at our meeting, as well as

the strike Martin would have taken at our fair Miss Porter.
His games are sometimes not always

understood by those who do not know him."

"And the assassin? Was he a game as well?" Ian
asked coldly.

"He was an unknown variable." Josef sighed as
though in regret. "We did not know he was there."

"Let's cut the shit, Missern," Ian snapped.
"You knew, because you told Sorrell about the meeting. Just

as Martin's attempt to strike Kira was a move designed to
draw our relationship out into the open."

Josef's sensual lips pursed in amusement. "The
information came to us by an anonymous source that told

of your connection in Atlanta, and here as well. It seems
you have other eyes watching you, my friend."

"And you report your tips concerning me to your good
friend Sorrell," Ian suggested. "It's a very

dangerous way to live, Josef."

"I did not relay this tip, Ian." Josef shook his
head firmly. "Rather, I received it from a source that paid a

hefty amount to have the connection proven." He spread
his palms upward. "It was a business

transaction. Yes?"

"Or your death warrant." Ian dropped his voice to
a guttural suggestion, aware of Kira's subtle tension

beside him and Missern's flash of fear before he covered
it.

"We are men of business, Ian." Josef shifted
uncomfortably in his seat. "This is what I have enjoyed in

our dealings together. You understand the value of the
dollar over the stains of blood. I am here to make

amends for these things. I do not wish to war with the
Fuentes cartel."

Ian tilted his head and stared back at Josef mockingly
before he turned and stared out the window of the

car instead. There, Trevor was landing the specially
modified helicopter just as planned.

"Ian?" Josef questioned him curiously. "Is
there a problem?"

"Order your men down, Josef," he ordered as the
Missern bodyguards turned their weapons on the

helicopter. "You're in no danger. You have my word on
it."

Josef watched him closely but pulled his cell phone from
the pocket of his jacket and hit the keypad.

"Pull back," he said into the receiver as his
gaze clashed with Ian's. "We have his word no harm will

come."

Ian let a smile tug at his lips at the unspoken trust. He
had learned that even here, in this world, a man

was judged by his word.

"I've exacted my payment for Martin's attempt to touch
what belongs to me," he told Josef as he held

Josef's gaze. "I'll also accept a hundred M-16s at
wholesale price, three grenade launchers, and an

amount of ammo to be determined once I return to the villa
and discuss our needs with Diego."

Josef blinked back at him. "Quite a bit of apology,
wouldn't you say?"

"Consider yourself lucky." Ian lowered the window
beside him and nodded toward the helicopter. A

door slid open, and the instantly recognizable form of
Martin Missern tumbled from the side. He

struggled to his feet, his swollen, bloodied face staring
in weak bemusement at the limo as several of the

bodyguards rushed for him.

"What the hell is this?
Mon Dieu
, what have you done to him?" Josef's hand went to the
door only to

have his wrist caught by Ian's, twisted, and his body
jerked around until his face was pressed into the

leather seat as he bellowed in pain.

"He's alive," Ian snarled, tamping down his
regret that Kira was here. That she was seeing him as he

was. "I should have killed him, Josef. Next time, I'll
kill both of you."

He leaned over the arms dealer's body, his head next to
Missern's, his eyes glaring into the light blue

pain-ridden gaze of the other man.

"The next time Sorrell wants information, the next
time he wants you to strike out at what's mine,

remember this. And remember, next time I'll beat the life
out of you myself. I don't think you want that,

do you?"

Josef shook his head desperately, sweat beading his brow as
broken gasps left his lips.

"I learned a lot of ways to hurt a man in the American
military." He twisted Missern's wrist easily,

dragging another cry from his lips. "Ways that make a
man pray for death. Don't make me watch you

pray, Josef. It would just piss me off and bite into my
schedule. When you do that, I get mean." Ian

pressed his thumb deeper into the other man's wrist, gave
it a hard twist, and heard it crack. It didn't

break. It didn't dislocate, but the distinctions in pain
were so slight as to be negligible.

He released the shuddering man, moved back to his seat, and
pushed the door open.

"While you're contemplating betraying me and talking
to Sorrell on the phone, inform him that if he wants

to end this, then he'll meet with me. The next time he
sends one of his fuck buddies to strike out at me, I'll

start killing them. That's a promise, Josef, you hear
me?"

Josef struggled back to the seat, staring back at Ian
fearfully, his once perfectly combed white-blond hair

lying mussed around his face now.

"You are letting us leave alive?" he asked
hesitantly.

Ian shook his head and tsked mockingly. "I keep my
word, Josef. Unlike Sorrell. I'll give you one last

piece of advice. Get the hell out of Aruba until Sorrell
and I come to an understanding, because I'd hate

to have to kill you. Now get out of my limo. I've had
enough of you."

He grabbed the lapels of the arms dealer's jacket, jerked
him from the seat, and threw him from the car.

Josef struggled to his feet, lurched toward his bodyguards,
and cast one last wary look back at the limo

as Ian slammed the door closed.

The helicopter lifted from the ground as the limo pulled
from the meeting area and began to pick up

speed along the eastern coast of the island.

"Why did we drive out here rather than flying?"

The question wasn't the one he had expected, nor was her
calm demeanor. Though he knew he

shouldn't have expected anything less.

"Because I like the drive," he growled.

"Liar."

He breathed out roughly. "The first two months I was
here I had two copters brought down and three

bodyguards taken out. They have a harder time attacking the
limo."

"They?"

He grunted a sharp laugh. "Who the fuck knows.
Pissed-off SEALs and SFs, Sorrell's men, DEA, CIA,

FBI. Hell, there are agents from a dozen alphabet-soup
agencies in the world staked out on this damned

island since I came here."

And he didn't blame a damned one of them for trying to take
him out. Now, it wasn't just him though. It

was Kira as well. Son of a bitch. Suddenly, this mission
was beginning to seriously tax his patience. In

ways he had never imagined possible.

He pushed his fingers through his hair and checked their
location. He pulled the Glock free of his side

holster, checked the clip then pulled the extra clips from
the pockets of his pants and checked them.

Turning, he stared through the back window at the SUV
following them. Mendez and Cristo had the

heavier weapons with them, Trevor was watching overhead
with the copter.

Hell, he wished he was in that damned copter. Unfortunately
they were too easy to track and too easy

to take out of the sky. And he had too many enemies now.

"What's happening with this meet we're driving to,
Ian?"

He returned his gaze to her as he shoved the Glock back in
its holster.

He shook his head firmly. "I told you what the meeting
involved."

Her expression was scoffing. "Come on, Ian, don't pull
that on me. Tell me what's really going on."

"There's nothing to pull." He shrugged. "I
need to meet with some of the men that are transporting loads

between Colombia and American waters. I give them their GPS
coordinates for the first phase of

delivery. After that, they receive transportation routes in
phases."

What he wasn't telling her was the fact he suspected at
least one of the transporters was going to be

mildly upset when they learned that their loads had been
shifted to other parties.

The men he was dealing with here weren't regular Fuentes
soldiers or cartel members. Diego had been

using independent contract workers for the most part until
Ian arrived. Ian had slowly been replacing

those contractors with cartel members. Efficiency, he had
explained to Diego. Efficiency be damned; it

would make the cartel that much easier to take down when
Diego fell.

In this particular instance though, the men he was getting
ready to replace wouldn't exactly take it with a

shrug and smile. He wasn't firing a union member, he was
firing a cutthroat, murderous drug dealer with

delusions of status.

Rodrigo Cruz was on the DEA's and FBI's most wanted lists.
When this was over, Ian hoped he would

be either dead or maneuvered into a position that would
allow capture within a matter of days.

At times like this, he was forcefully reminded that perhaps
genetics and DNA were indeed stronger than

hatred. Because he had learned he could be just as
deceptive, controlling, and manipulating as the man

who had donated the sperm in his conception.

"How dangerous do you anticipate this little meeting
turning?"

He stared at her, proud of her, terrified of losing her,
though a part of him knew she was his greatest

strength now.

"Oh, I don't know, Kira," he drawled. "I'm
meeting with half a dozen cocaine transporters whose

fortunes depend upon securing each successive shipment.
What do you think?"

"I think that if you weren't planning something to
piss them off then there would be little danger involved.

Unless you suspected one of them of conspiring with
Sorrell."

"Right now, I suspect everyone in the Fuentes camp of
conspiring with Sorrell." He snorted. "I've

learned to be careful, that's all."

"If that's all, then I can go in with you," she
stated.

"Do you want me to tie you to the bed the next time I
have a meeting that I refuse to allow you to

attend?" He stared back at her, knowing the look on
his face was just short of savage. Hell, he felt

savage. He knew each time he walked into one of these
meetings that it could be his last. And now it

could endanger her as well.

"Chauvinism doesn't become you, Ian." She sighed.
"Very well, I'll wait in the limo like a good little girl."

Ian nodded sharply. "This shouldn't take long,"
he told her as the limo neared the port town Oranjestad.

"It's just a meeting. The business Fuentes does here
in Aruba is simple. Orders go out from here. Dealers

pick up their cargo in Colombia. I don't risk actual
shipments onto the island."

"What I'd like to know is how you've managed to keep
your head on your shoulders here. Aruba isn't

exactly a good hiding place."

"I'm not hiding." He shrugged. "I've not
been arrested because I've managed to escape every operation

sent out against me. I don't have predictable travel routes
and I don't let myself become comfortable.

And that's besides the fact that money does talk. Aruba
hasn't yet given the U.S. permission to conduct

an operation against me on their turf."

"I was under the impression Aruba had a very close
relationship with America," Kira pointed out.

"You're a deserter . . ."

"You didn't do your homework." That word had the
power to clench his guts. "The truth is, I resigned

my commission. The papers were logged in to the system
during the Atlanta mission; I was due to step