LITMIR.BIZ

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mountains. I know much is being asked of you, and that is why Roan is here—to assist and help you as much as he can. Anything she tells him, Roan will relay on to you or your officers. I realize the pain of your loss, and we tried to come up with a plan that would somehow protect you and her both during this mission.”

      “I will kill her if I see her.”

      “No,” Morgan said, his voice hard and uncompromising, “you won’t. If you really want to take this mission, you will promise to leave her alone.”

      “And you will not order one of your men to shoot her, either,” Houston growled. “Any attempt on Inca’s life, and she’ll leave you and your company wherever you are. And if you’re in the middle of the rain forest, Colonel, without a guide, you’ll be in jeopardy.”

      “Then I will hire an Indian guide to lead us.”

      Houston shook his head. “There isn’t an Indian willing to lead you into the area, Colonel. If the drug lords find out that they did, they’d move into their village and murder everyone in retribution.”

      Jaime tried to take a breath. It hurt to breathe. His heart was wild with grief. Rafael had been murdered two years ago, but it felt like only yesterday. Rubbing his chest savagely, Jaime snarled, “You cannot ask this of me. You cannot.”

      Morgan moved around the table and faced him squarely. “Colonel, if I thought for a heartbeat that Inca had killed your son, I would not have asked you to head this mission. Nor would I have asked Inca to be your guide. I believe Mike Houston. I’ve never met her, I only know of her reputation in Brazil. I know that if a person becomes a legend, many times the truth gets tattered and distorted. I believe the old priest’s affidavit. He has no reason to lie to protect her. Priests don’t lie about something like this. I’ve also read her sworn statements on each charge. I believe she’s innocent in such charges.” Morgan eased his bulk down on the table next to Marcellino’s chair.

      “Colonel, you are a man of consummate honor. Your family’s heritage stretches back to the kings and queens of Portugal. You were the only person we wanted for this mission. You are a brave and resourceful man. You are someone who is good at his word. Your love of your country has been obvious in the twenty years you’ve served in her military. You are one of the most decorated men in your country.” Morgan held the officer’s dark gaze. “I believe, Colonel, that if you will give me your word that you will not harm Inca for the duration of the mission, that you can be trusted. Look beyond her. Look at what you will accomplish for all the people of Brazil. You will be a hero.”

      Morgan raised his hand and swept it toward the rest of the men sitting around the table. “And think of the glory you will receive, the recognition, for going in first to strike a blow for freedom from these drug runners. Your name will be on the lips of people around the globe. Is that not a credit to your son? Could this mission be undertaken in his name? In his memory?”

      Morgan saw Marcellino sink back into the chair. He knew the officer’s ego and pride were tremendous. And typical of South American aristocracy, fame and power would appeal strongly to the colonel. Morgan was hoping it would break the logjam on this mission. He tried to sit there appearing at ease, even though his gut was knotted while he waited for the man’s answer.

      Roan watched the proceedings with rapt attention. So, he was to be a bridge, a liaison between this wild woman from Amazonia and the colonel who wanted to kill her in the name of his lost son. Roan realized the immensity of his mission. Was this woman, Inca, sane? Was she manageable? Would she respect him enough to stay out of Marcellino’s way so they could successfully complete the assigned task? Roan wasn’t sure, and he had a helluva lot of questions to ask Houston when the time was right.

      All eyes were on Marcellino as he sat back, deep in thought over Morgan’s softly spoken words. No one moved. The Brazilian finally looked at Houston. “What makes you think she will work with Storm Walker?”

      “He’s Indian like she is. Inca respects Indians.”

      “He’s a man.” Marcellino’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

      “Inca doesn’t hate men. She respects men who have honor, who have morals and who aren’t destroying Mother Earth. Roan, here, comes from a similar background. He’ll be able to understand her, and vice versa. I believe it is a good match, and I believe Inca will get along well with him.”

      “And what if she doesn’t?”

      “Then,” Mike said, “the mission is off. Morgan and I realize your loss, Colonel. We’ve worked hard to put the right people in key positions to help you get through this mission successfully. If Roan can’t forge the bond of trust we need with Inca, in order to work with you, then this mission is scrubbed.”

      Nodding, Marcellino glared up at Morgan. “If it had been anyone but you asking this of me, I would tell him to burn in hell.”

      Relief shuddered through Morgan, though he kept his face expressionless. Reaching out, he placed his hand on the colonel’s proud shoulder. “Jaime, I share your grief and your loss. But I’m convinced Inca is innocent of your son’s death. She is the only person we know who can give you success on your mission. I know I’m asking a lot from you in begging you to rise above personal hurt, grief and rage, and look at the larger picture. You can be the deliverer of hundreds of people. The name Marcellino will be revered in many Indian villages because you had the courage to come and eradicate the drug lords from the basin. I know you can do this. And I don’t deny it will be difficult…”

      The colonel slumped slightly. He felt Morgan’s grip on his shoulder, heard the sincerity in his rumbling voice. “Very well,” he whispered raggedly, “you have my word, Morgan. I will reluctantly work with Inca. But only through this man.” He pointed at Roan. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I see her. I want to kill her—I won’t deny it. He had best make sure that she never meets me face-to-face….”

      Morgan nodded and swallowed hard. “I know Roan will do everything in his power to convey that message to Inca. She will be your scout, your point person, so the chances of seeing her are pretty slim. But I’ll make sure he tells her that. I have no wish to hurt you any more than you’ve already been hurt by your son’s loss.”

      Eyes misting, Jaime forced back tears. He looked up at Morgan. “And do you know the terrible twist in all of this?”

      “No, what?”

      “My youngest son, Julian, who is a lieutenant, will be leading one of the squads under my command on this mission.”

      Morgan closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he rasped, “Colonel, your son is safe. Inca is not going after him—or any of your men. She is on your side of this fight.”

      “This time,” Marcellino said bitterly. “And for how long? She is infamous for turning on people when it suits her whims and wiles.”

      “Roan will see that things go smoothly,” Morgan promised heavily, shooting him a glance down the table.

      Roan waited patiently until the room cleared of all but him, Morgan and Mike. When the door shut, he slowly unwound from his chair.

      “I didn’t realize what I’d be doing.”

      Mike nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t brief you beforehand, Roan.”

      Morgan moved toward the end of the table, where Roan stood. “More importantly, do you want to take this assignment?”

      With a shrug, Roan said, “I wasn’t doing much of anything else.”

      Morgan nodded and wiped his perspiring brow with a white linen handkerchief, then returned it to his back pocket. “I’ve never met Inca. Mike has. I think you should direct your questions to him. In the meantime, I’m going to join the officers at a banquet we’ve set up in their honor in the dining room. See me there when you’re done here?”

      Roan nodded, then waited expectantly as the door closed behind Morgan. Silence settled over them, and Roan discovered Mike

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