He had to hold on, just a little bit longer, then he could blow those fucking warehouses to hell and back himself.
“I’m heading that way soon, boss.” Deke stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “I was checking a few things. I don’t like it when people slip in that we don’t know about. These came in after I made contact with some other informants.”
Deke handed him the reports as well as several grainy color photographs. He laid the report aside and looked at the photos first.
Two known Sorrell agents had come in by way of New York. Ian recognized the French nationals with a little sneer of his lips. The other was the assassin they had taken out in the warehouse the night before. The assassin’s dossier was thick, his kill rate nearly one hundred percent.
“They paid good money for him,” Ian murmured. “Sorrell isn’t going to be happy that he failed.”
“We got lucky last night, boss,” Deke said. “I can’t see the Missern brothers fucking up like that, even if they are in bed with Sorrell. It’s all about the profit to them. I’m suspecting a leak in-house.”
Ian suspected that as well. It wasn’t the first time Sorrell’s men had been where they shouldn’t have.
“Look into it.” Ian flipped the pictures to the desk and ran his hands over his face before leaning back in the chair and staring back at Deke thoughtfully.
He waved at the bodyguard to take a seat, his eyes narrowed as Deke stared back at him expectantly.
“Sorrell’s gearing up,” he murmured. “He wants the cartel bad enough to try to take me out now. What would his next move be?” He knew what he suspected, but he needed confirmation of it.
“He’ll keep trying. Odds are, he’ll get lucky,” Deke told him. “Until we find a way to neutralize it. We need a position of strength, Ian. Something that will make him crawl out from his hole.”
“What about this rumor of a daughter that we keep hearing about? Have you managed to learn anything there?”
Deke shook his head. “Nothing substantial. Just that she exists and Sorrell is searching for her. We know he has a son, but only because he’s slowly shifting some of the smaller responsibilities to that son’s shoulders. He goes by the name Raven.”
Ian rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Pull in a few of our contacts in France and see if you can’t learn more. If we get to her first, we could use her.”
His gut clenched at the thought of that. If Sorrell had a missing daughter as they had heard for years, then no doubt she was better off staying anonymous. Unfortunately, if she did exist, he couldn’t allow that anonymity. He needed her too damned bad.
A second, a moment’s thought went to the fact that he was willing to use such an innocent before he hardened his resolve. There was no time to worry about the innocence of Sorrell’s daughter. The game he was playing here was too deadly, too imperative.
“There was a call that came in this morning as well.” Deke nodded to the report. “Joseph Fitzhugh and his son. Some kind of English aristocrats that say they know you. They wanted to meet and talk.”
Ian grimaced at the names and shook his head. Fitzhugh and his son had flown to Colombia when Ian first left the SEALs and arrived at Diego’s estate. He had met the diplomat in the line of duty years before, and Fitzhugh felt it was his place to try to convince Ian of the error of his ways. He wasn’t the first, he wouldn’t be the last.
He shook his head. “No meet.”
“I assumed you would say that.” Deke nodded somberly. “Must be hard as hell, boss, having all these so-called friends coming out of the woodwork. I haven’t seen Durango team yet though.”
“You won’t see Durango team,” he said. “But they’re on the island. I can feel Macey’s sniper scope like you feel a mosquito biting into your flesh.”
He’d been feeling it for more than a week now. That itch at the back of his neck, the curl of anger in his gut. For some reason, he had expected them to know better, despite how well he had laid in the evidence that he was indeed a traitor. It was contradictory and illogical, but feeling that scope’s bull’s-eye on his head was pissing him off.
Deke frowned at Ian’s admission. “We can’t afford to have you taken out, Ian. Not at this stage of the game. They have to be pulled back.”
Ian shook his head.
“We continue on,” he told him. “He hasn’t taken the shot yet, he’s not going to. He’s waiting. He knows I’m aware of him. Let’s see what plays out.”
Deke breathed out roughly at the order. “I don’t like this. They shouldn’t be here.”
Ian shrugged. “Kira is the bigger worry,” he told the bodyguard. “She’s unpredictable and she’s trouble. I don’t want her involved in this, and I know her. She’s here because of me, not because of her uncle’s business.”
Deke’s eyes sharpened at that information. “Enemy or friendly?”
Ian snorted. “What’s her present mood? Your guess is as good as mine. One thing is for damned sure, it’s not going to be anything you expect. Count on that and wear a protective cup in the process. Because that woman will end up busting all our balls if we give her so much as half a chance.”
Deke had no idea the trouble Kira Porter could cause. But Ian did; he knew and he didn’t like the anticipation throbbing in his cock at the thought of it.
“So where do you go with her from here?” Deke asked.
Ian shook his head. “I’ll catch up with her tomorrow night. Let her play for now. Let her think she’s safe.”
His jaw clenched at the suspicious look Deke shot him. He knew the other man wondered just how deeply Ian was letting this life affect him. And Ian admitted, it was damned deep. Sometimes, he didn’t recognize himself or what he had become.
“Your mother called again,” Deke finally told him. “You have several messages on your personal machine.”
Ian stilled. Marika Richards had no idea of the game her son was playing, and the pain he knew she was feeling cut at his soul.
She had nearly given up her life for him countless times when he was a child, fighting to keep him away from Carmelita Fuentes’s murderous hands. Diego’s now deceased wife had hunted them like animals for ten years, before Ian’s stepfather, John Richards, had found them.