Killer Secrets (56 page)

she peeked around again before sliding around to the front
of it. If she remembered correctly there was a

doorway leading to the pantry right beside it. She needed
to check.

She was going to check when a shadow flashed and agony
snapped her wrist.

IAN HAD SUSPECTED SORRELL WOULDpull something but he hadn't
expected the extent of the

chaos he could cause. Staying on Sorrell's ass after
Kenneth fell and tracking him through the villa wasn't

easy.

He wouldn't leave the house, Ian thought as he made his way
along the back hall that led to the servants'

stairs. He would stay in place, wait for his forces to
overtake the villa then collect his daughter. He hadn't

expected the trained Navy SEALs that converged on his
soldiers and he sure as hell wouldn't be

expecting the fact that Macey's listening device had
recorded every second of the meeting. The SEALs

knew who they were looking for and what his capture would
mean.

"Ian report," Reno's voice snapped into the
receiver at his ear.

Ian paused on the upper landing, looking into the long
hallway with narrowed eyes through the

night-vision goggles he had grabbed from a drawer in his
desk after the lights had gone out.

"He's still in the house. I saw him hit the servants'
stairs but I haven't found him yet," Ian reported.

"Teams two and four have taken a few hits," Reno
said. "We're still clearing out Fitzhugh's forces with

your soldiers' help. We're making progress. What about the
girl?"

"Get me some help in here if you want her," Ian
snapped. "Antoli was down last time I checked and he

was her protection. Deke is at my back and the others are
checking the house."

He glanced back at Deke before giving him a signal to
proceed.

Ian ducked across the hallway, flattening himself in the
doorway of the linen closet there as Deke

crouched and aimed his weapon into the hallway.

Nothing stirred.

Sorrell was hiding, waiting.

As Ian prepared to move again a shattered feminine cry
drifted up the stairs. Kira's cry, rife with pain,

fear. Ian knew that Sorrell had her.

Thirty-one

HER WRIST WAS BROKEN, KIRAknew that the moment the gun
dropped from her hand and

Joseph Fitzhugh jerked her back into his barrel chest.

"You fucking bitch," he snarled in her ear.
"I should have killed you along with your parents. This is what

I get for having mercy on you."

"You were going to kidnap me." She knew that the
moment his identity was revealed. "That's why Jase

hid me all those years. Why he surrounded me with bodyguards."

She fought to breathe through the pain.

"Jason was an idiot. A very lucky idiot," he
snarled at her ear. "He was supposed to be with them.

Everyone but poor little Kira, who would have made me so
much money."

His hand tightened on her wrist, bringing a ragged cry from
her throat as the pain threatened to steal her

consciousness. Bastard. Son of a bitch. Did he think a
broken wrist was going to disable her?

"Poor little Kira is going to kick your ass," she
hissed, then screamed again as he applied pressure to her

wrist once more.

"Where is my daughter?" His voice was low, evil,
the smooth French accent almost natural, definitely

worthy of an Academy Award.

"We were separated." She breathed through the
pain, fighting to keep her head clear. God, she was

going to fucking kill him.

"You're lying to me."

She shook her head desperately, praying Tehya stayed
hidden.

"It was too dark. I couldn't find her. I was looking .
. ."

He twisted her wrist and she lost it. Her stomach roiled,
pitching with the pain as darkness threatened

her vision.

Gagging, she leaned over, fighting to hold on to
consciousness.

"Don't you puke on me, you stupid whore." He
jerked her back from him, using his hold on her wrist.

Agony blazed through her mind, exploded in her head as she
went to her knees. And it kept exploding.

He jerked her again, nearly ripping her wrist off as he
fell. Kira's free hand clawed at his, breaking his

hold, only distantly aware of the explosions that didn't
seem to stop as she pitched to the floor, rolled,

and cradled her wrist to her chest while the pain continued
to resound in her head.

She heard someone screaming her name. Screaming hoarsely.
Ian. That was Ian's voice. Ian's hands

lifting her as she fought to hold on to consciousness
through the agony resounding through her arm.

Oh hell, she was a pussy, she thought, just as Tehya had
accused.

IAN HELD KIRA AS SHEpassed out. Mercifully. He cradled her
in his arms as Daniel rushed to her,

his hands moving to the broken wrist, hurriedly splinting
it as Ian stared at Sorrell, otherwise known as

Joseph Fitzhugh.

Lights had swept into the kitchen the minute Kira's screams
had sounded. And Tehya had rushed in,

firing every round the Glock held straight into her
father's chest.

She stood over him, staring down at his body, her face
bloodless, her green eyes wilder than before as

Antoli stood behind her, watching her like a man tormented,
the gash in his head bleeding profusely.

Deke, Trevor, Mendez, and Cristo were all in good shape,
all armed and standing around Ian and the

two women protectively as the gunfire outside finally
leveled off.

"Where's Diego?" He finally realized the other
man hadn't been seen since the lights went off.

Deke looked around the room then back at Ian in confusion.

"Reno, Diego's missing, do you have a fix?" Ian
snapped. He had attached a transmitter to Diego as well

as the two women without their knowledge well before
Sorrell had shown up.

"Tracker shows he's with the women." Macey's
voice came through the line.

"He's not here."

"His signal is right there beside the two women,"
Macey repeated patiently.

Ian looked around. Kira was in his arms, Tehya beside her.

"Deke, check me for the transmitter." Resignation
filled his voice.

Deke moved to him quickly, running his hands over the
collar of Ian's shirt as Ian continued to hold Kira

to his chest.

"Here it is."

Diego had slapped his shoulder before Sorrell had arrived.
He had known about the tracker.

"He's flown," Ian snapped into the link.
"Find the bastard. Son of a bitch. He got away."

DIEGO STARED AT THE LIGHTSblazing in the villa an hour
later, surrounded by his personal team

of soldiers and sailing for home.

He gripped the rail of the borrowed yacht, grief lying
tight in his chest, clenching his stomach. Tears

would have fallen had he been alone.

A boy should not be forced to kill his father, he thought
to himself, continuing to stare at the receding

lights of the estate Ian had moved them into. At his side,
laughably enough, was his DHS handler. It was

amazing really how his deal with DHS had worked out through
the years. Such as now.

"My dear Mr. McClane, how do you think Ian is going to
feel once he learns how easily you managed to

slip me from the island and also that you warned me of what
may well happen?"

McClane sighed at that. "It would be nice if he didn't
find out, Fuentes. You know what they say about

burning bridges. As your legal counsel in this matter, I
can assure you, it could be a deal breaker with

DHS."

Diego chuckled, but the sound was rusty, bitter.

He hadn't had his son long enough, hadn't had a chance to
pull free those more calculating tendencies he

knew Ian must surely possess. He hadn't had enough time to
gain his loyalty, and he had known it. Just as

he had known it was Ian's intention all along to kill him
when this was finished.

"A man shouldn't have to murder his own father,"
he whispered then, aware that the agent was listening.

"If I didn't agree, I wouldn't have had the yacht
waiting for you."

Diego nodded and sighed again. Wearily.

"Marika raised a fine man," he told Jason then.

"Yes, she did, despite Carmelita's attempts to have
him killed."

He was always being reminded of this. As though there were
a way he could go back in time to change

the past. If only he could. He would have given his own
soul to do just that.

"Did you know about him when I made my deal with
DHS?" Diego wondered aloud.

"None of us knew about him until he and his stepfather
approached the director," Jason assured him, his

voice as cold and unemotional as ever.

Yes, that sounded like Ian, and Marika. They wouldn't have
wanted anyone to know the shameful secret

of who Ian's father was.

He couldn't find it in himself to blame the boy; as Jason
said, Carmelita had made his life hell. She had

helped mold the man Ian had become, and Diego cursed her to
hell for it.

"The estate is secured?" he asked then.

"Secured. Ian will receive his orders tonight that
you're protected by DHS. And in return you sign the

papers I brought that you'll refrain from taking any U.S.
government personnel hostage. Should you learn

they are agents of the U.S. you will contact me and I'll
take care of them."

Diego nodded. Yes, it had been a mistake to allow Clay and
Sorrell to hold Nathan Malone. The testing

of the whore's dust on the SEAL had been amusing, and it
had taught him something about the depth of a

man's soul. Malone had never broken. He had always known
that the women brought to him were not

his wife.

"Perhaps I will concentrate on some of the plans Ian
placed into motion while he was with me," he

mused. "Several of those business look very
lucrative."

"Going legit, Fuentes?" McClane's voice was
mocking.

"Legit?" Diego frowned. "The time has passed
for that, my friend. Very much so. But perhaps it is time

to face the future. No children, no grandchildren, no time
to teach a child about the legacy being passed

to him. Perhaps it is time to just let it go."

He didn't give McClane time to answer. He turned, pushed
his hands into his pockets, and entered the

lavish interior of the yacht before continuing to his room.
It wouldn't take long to reach Colombia. A

plane would be awaiting him and he would fly home where
Saul waited for him.

To an empty, lonely estate.

Could anything be worse?

Thirty-two

KIRA OPENED HER EYES, GROANED, and closed them again. She
remembered. Oh hell yes, she

remembered passing out like a wimp. And that was it.

She stared around the bedroom, the same bedroom she and Ian
shared at the Fuentes villa. There was

no broken glass here, no shattered windows or
bullet-riddled furniture. Just her.

"You're awake."

Her eyes jerked to the doorway, to Ian as he stepped into
the bedroom, then to Daniel and Durango

team as they entered behind him.

She glanced at the cast on her wrist and the sunlight
outside the room.

"How long was I out?" She hated passing out.
Tehya was right, she was a pussy. It was the whole pain

thing. She hated it, it just pissed her off, and if it was
strong enough, caused her to pass out. It was

pathetic.

"Close to ten hours." Ian sat on the bed beside
her, reaching out to smooth her hair back from her cheek

as she looked at the cast on her wrist once again.

Anything to keep from looking at Ian.

"Teyha's safe," Daniel told her from the bottom
of the bed. "She's on her way to Fitzhugh's estate in

France to allow the authorities, both French and American,
into his private computers. With him and his