Page 15 of Killer Secrets (Tempting SEALs 5)

Sorrell was the reason Ian was there. The elusive terrorist, as yet unidentified, had managed to slip through every net that several countries and more than a dozen law enforcement agencies had attempted to use to catch him.

"That's what I suspect." Ian shrugged as he dug into his breakfast. "Valence Radacchio claims otherwise, but the strike was well prepared and centered where security should have been the tightest. They dropped the ball, and rather than getting embroiled in a blood feud with them, I'd rather sever ties instead."

"Valence has worked with me for many years," Diego mused. "He has always moved our product through Colombia and onto the ships. If we sever this relationship, we will be forced to forge a new one."

Ian shook his head. "We move our own product. Why use a middleman when we have the necessary manpower and the network to do it efficiently? It saves time, money, and risks."

The product, of course, was drugs. Radacchio collected the bales of cocaine from the processing warehouses and transported it across the mountains to waiting ships. From there, he delivered it to various points to another drop-off where others then collected it, broke it down, and shipped it to other points.

Until Sorrell had begun hitting the processing warehouses. The first thing Ian had done when he took over the Fuentes business was to relocate the warehouses and have his men deliver the goods to Radacchio instead.

"Is Valence aligned with Sorrell, do you think? Or has the bastard merely managed to obtain information about our supply lines?"

Ian shook his head. "I don't know and I don't care. But Radacchio knew the location of the former warehouses. We changed our locations and began delivering to them rather than having them pick up the bales from us and the hijackings stopped. Now this strike? I'm inclined to once again cut them out of the loop. We'll see what happens then."

"He will not be pleased over this," Diego warned him. "We pay him well for his consortium's work."

"Then he can find another client, one with a bit less paranoia than it seems I possess." Ian's smile was tight. "I don't have time for a drug war, Diego. We'll do it my way first."

Diego's black eyes gleamed with excitement.

"The wars spice up life, Ian." Diego grinned with all apparent anticipation. "They keep you on your toes."

"I'd been a ballet dancer if I wanted to dance on my toes, pop," he said.

Diego sighed in regret. "Radacchio will demand a meeting to discuss this."

"Then tell him he can talk to me. And that's another thing; either I run this shit or I don't. Stay out of it. Don't try to negotiate with Radacchio like you did the Misserns last month. I won't be happy."

The announcement had an angry frown creasing Diego's face. "What do you mean by this?" he burst out. "Stay out of what business? Fuentes business? I remind you, I am the Fuentes. It is my business."

Ian lifted his head and stared back at Diego silently.

Diego flinched as Ian stared back at him unblinkingly.

"I do not like this," he muttered. "I am not so old that I cannot be a part of my own business any longer."

"You have your job."

"Bah. My job. It is no job to oversee the farms and production of the coca. A child could do this."

"We have a deal," Ian reminded him, his voice hard. "Don't fuck me over on it, old man, or I'll be gone even faster than I made it here."

It wasn't an idle threat. If he couldn't control the cartel, then Ian didn't have a hope in hell of drawing Sorrell in. He knew it, and Diego knew it. To safeguard the business from being forcibly taken by the terrorist, Diego needed Ian. Ian needed control.

"You are hard, Ian." Diego sighed. "Harder than even I believed. More so than my investigations into you revealed."

"I'm a product of my childhood, pop," he bit out. "Remember?"

Diego grimaced. His black eyes were, for the barest moment, bleak with sorrow. It was a sorrow Ian refused to acknowledge, even to himself. He didn't care about Diego's past regrets, his hopes or his dreams, no matter the illusion Ian allowed him that he did. All he cared about was catching Sorrell and delivering him and Diego Fuentes into the hands of justice. Or, their heads on a platter. The latter if he could get away with it.

"If I could go back, I would give my life to have spared you that pain," Diego said softly, with apparent sincerity.

"There's no going back." Ian shrugged. "Just think, it made me hard enough to straighten your little world out, pop. We haven't had a successful hijacking or a missed load since I arrived."

"For a man who does not enjoy war, you shed enough blood," Diego griped. "And refuse to allow me in on the fun. I was pleased though. The agents of the U.S. that you uncovered last month will steal no more information from us, yes?"

The men he had killed had been perverted monsters posing as American agents. They had worked for the DEA, drawn their pay, and given just enough information to make them viable. Until they tried to kill Ian in the name of that bastard Sorrell.

---