Pride burst through him along with the desire to weep. Isabeau was down, but not out. Ottila had shaken her, but she had never lost sight of what she was about or who she was. He hoped she could move in the morning, but he doubted it. Watching her shivering, trying not to weep while he cleaned the wounds and treated them, he knew Ottila was a dead man.

A man capable of doing such damage to a woman just to prove a point would come at them again and again. It would never be over until he was stopped permanently. There was no point in stating the fact to Isabeau. She was too afraid of the man—but Conner wasn’t.

19

“ARE you certain Isabeau can handle this?” Leonardo asked Conner as they drove down the narrow road along the edge of the rain forest. He studied Conner’s grim features in the dim light streaming in through the tinted windows.

Imelda Cortez’s sprawling compound was found at the end of a very long, windy road that switched back and forth up a mountain and dead-ended at her property. The rain forest surrounded her on three sides. The team had already run through their routes over and over, and the most promising was on the southernmost tip of the estate. If they could get the children to that side of the compound, the forest was practically reclaiming the fences.

They came in two vehicles. Marcos, Conner and Leonardo were in the first one. Elijah and Isabeau with Rio and Felipe arrived in the second. The others had been shocked when they saw Isabeau. Her face was untouched, her skin flawless but pale. She moved like a much older woman, unable to stand straight, obviously in pain. She’d taken a painkiller, but it hadn’t seemed to help much.

“If Isabeau says she can do this, then she can,” Conner said, his voice terse. He hadn’t been able to dissuade her, not even when she’d rolled over onto her hands and knees, pushing up as her stomach heaved, protesting the severe beating. He didn’t know if it was her fear of Ottila returning, or her determination to see their mission through that got her on her feet, but she somehow had managed to get herself dressed and ready for the trip to Imelda’s.

Weapons were stashed in two secret locations just inside the rain forest. Without the rogue leopards guarding Imelda’s compound, it had been fairly easy to place the caches without detection. They had more stashed in the two vehicles, hidden from sight so it didn’t look as if they were going to war.

The gates loomed up before them, heavy ironwork designed to keep out anyone, or keep someone prisoner behind the eight-foot fence that surrounded the rolling grounds. Guards with dogs patrolled the fence and several more guarded the gates with automatic weapons. Conner was certain Imelda wanted a show of force for her visitors. He kept his dark glasses in place and spent most of his time looking indifferent as he studied the layout of the compound and the close proximity of the forest.

Had he been the head of the security force, the first thing he would have done would be to move back the forest. The fence itself was a security nightmare. Imelda wanted the top flat and wide enough for guards to use it, but she should have had it built so no one could climb it. Some of the lower branches actually touched the fence. The branches were often used as a highway for the animals, and both Suma and Ottila would have known that. They really hadn’t cared much about their job, or maybe they’d grown lazy, as no one ever challenged Imelda’s stranglehold on the Panama-Colombia border.

He glanced briefly at Isabeau as she was helped from the car by a solicitous Elijah. He swept his arm around her, bringing her under his shoulder, ignoring her wince with every step she took. She was still walking gingerly, a little bent over, but she stood, eyes apparently downcast, the picture of a woman under a man’s complete control. Elijah looked satisfied and even arrogant, his gaze boldly sweeping the estate as if comparing it with his own.

Imelda came out to greet them, shaking hands with Marcos and Elijah. Conner saw her gaze rest thoughtfully a few moments on Isabeau. She took off her sunglasses and smiled.

“How are you . . . Isabeau, isn’t it?”

Isabeau played her part perfectly, glancing nervously up at Elijah as if asking permission to speak. His cool gaze swept her face and he barely nodded, the gesture nearly imperceptible, but just enough for Imelda to catch it.

“Fine, thank you,” Isabeau intoned, her voice barely audible.

“I’m so glad you came with your . . . cousin.” Deliberately Imelda linked her arm to Isabeau’s and swung her around toward the house, calling out over her shoulder, “Do come in. I’m so pleased to have guests.”

Conner knew she couldn’t fail to feel Isabeau’s wince, and she deliberately set a brisk pace to force Isabeau to keep up with her. She was enjoying not only Isabeau’s humiliation, but her pain. His gut twisted as Imelda sent him a smoldering look that promised all kinds of things he didn’t want. He could see Imelda’s fingers touching Isabeau and wanted to tear his wife away from the woman who was so deliberately cruel. He realized he didn’t want Isabeau to work with him in this business, seeing the worst of people. He wanted her somewhere safe where she would always keep her faith in humanity.

He fell in behind Marcos, taking in the position of every guard and each structure. There was a large water tower with a narrow wooden staircase. He figured it was more of a convenience for a sniper to see everything than an actual needed tower. There appeared to be another water tank, near a pump house. Guards moved in three places on the wall, in small cubicles built on top of it. There were several of those where a soldier who was a good shot would have command of the forest around him, yet have good protection.