Olivero nodded. "Si. It took a lot of work, clearing that space. My groundskeeper has to work very hard to keep the jungle from creeping back in. A year, two years, and the jungle would take over again. In ten years my house would be covered as surely as those ancient temples in Peru."

The copter circled and headed for a landing pad on the far side of the clearing. There was a pool in the back of the large house, and a garden and patio. They set down lightly, the wash of the rotors blowing back the leaves of the nearby trees. When the pilot cut the engine, Montana said, "My pilot is also my mechanic and handyman. You see, Daniel? We will always be able to get back to civilization, if we need to."

"All right," Mulder said grudgingly. "But I usually consider not having a choice of restaurants that deliver to be roughing it."

Olivero bowed his head, but he was smiling. "We will try our best to keep you happy, Daniel."

They exited the helicopter. A man trotted out from the house, and he and Manuel began to unload luggage from the back of the copter while the other men walked to the house. Mulder eyed it, calculating. "Not bad. Better than the old family homestead, or Yarborough's digs. How many rooms?"

Olivero shrugged. "Twenty? I haven't really counted."

Ethan fought down the urge to roll his eyes. A man shouldn't be obsessed with his possessions but such casual indifference could only be a pose. Olivero had decided that was how the upper class acted, and he was damned if he was going to be any less blase.

The interior was just as impressive. The entry way opened directly onto the living room on the right, and both rose to two stories. The decor was light, the furniture rich, but comfortable. Mulder estimated that the price of the suite would have entirely furnished a modest suburban house, possibly with appliances included. Drug lords weren't known for spartan tastes, but this seemed a bit overdone for one who hadn't yet moved into the upper echelon.

Was it possible that Montana was over-extending himself? Mulder thought that a good businessman would have been contented with a bit less while funneling more funds back into the business. Not that one wanted savvy drug dealers, but something about this bothered him. They were counting on Montana reacting as a man whose main priority was profit. That should keep them safe, because he'd lose whatever benefit they could bring if he did away with them. But if Olivero had a different agenda... That would screw up the mix badly.

They went up a beautiful polished wood staircase and Olivero led them along a corridor, gesturing. "Here is the master bedroom, and here is Manuel's room. There are four others on this floor, and you may have your choice."

Mulder wasted no time in beginning to investigate the rooms, and the others trailed after him. In a dark paneled room he found a four-poster bed, across which he promptly threw himself, head first. Ethan followed him into the room, and Olivero stood at the door with Manuel and the servant waiting patiently behind.

Ethan strolled over to the window and gazed out. Good. We're far enough away from Montana's room to be able to move around without alerting him, and our window faces out on the jungle. If I need to go out that way, it won't be easy for anyone to observe. Aloud he said, "Ya like this one, Danny?"

When Mulder didn't immediately answer, he turned back, and had to smile at what he found. Fox had rolled onto his belly and stretched his hands and feet out toward the four posts in the classic spread eagle position. His voice was a little muffled. "Yes, this will do nicely."

"Ethan, you can have your own room, if you like," Olivero offered. "We may be working late. If you don't want to disturb Daniel when you go to bed..."

Mulder sat up, frowning. "Oh, no. I haven't slept apart from him a single night for the last two years. I'm not starting now."

"Very well." Montana stepped aside and allowed Manuel and the servant to bring the luggage into the room. "Perhaps Daniel will unpack while I show you my office, Connor."

Mulder's frown deepened, and he folded his arms. "I am not his wife--neither am I his maid."

Manuel cheerfully put a suitcase on the bed beside him. "I will be happy to do it, Danny, if you will direct me?"

Mulder relented. "I guess it won't hurt me to play domestic for once. Go on." He made shooing motions. "You men run off and tend to business."

On their way back down the stairs Montana commented, "He can be touchy, can't he?"

"That he can." Ethan shook his head. "But he's worth it. When he's in a good mood there's no one in the world sweeter. Maybe he won't cook or clean house, but he'd walk over hot coals for me if he knew it was important, and I'd do the same for him."

"That is as it should be. You are a most fortunate man, Connor."

Ethan was gratified to see that there didn't appear to be any special security measures on the room that Olivero was using as an office. But then, that meant that he'd have to do a more careful check later. The really good security systems were the ones that weren't evident at first glance. It was possible that Olivero considered the jungle surrounding them to be enough of a deterrent that he did not need to take extra precautions, but it wasn't likely.

He walked around the room, studying it. There were many shelves of books in both English and Spanish, everything from popular novels to respected works on economics, politics, philosophy, and culture. The surprising thing was that they all looked like they had been read. None of them had the prissy, knife-edged blockiness to the pages that Ethan associated with them never having been opened.

There was a small personal computer on the desk, and Ethan was surprised to see that it was several years old. He would have expected Olivero, who seemed dedicated to conspicuous consumption, to have the latest model. As he looked around a slow conviction grew. This is not the real office.

"Where do ya keep your files?" he asked, running a hand over the top of the monitor.

Olivero tapped the beige box. "In here."

Ethan frowned. "Jesus, Montana. What if ya have a power surge? Losing that kind of information could cripple ya for months." When Montana shrugged, Ethan continued. "Even I keep paper records. Well hidden, of course."

"Galbraith," Ethan did not miss the use of his surname. "how I run my end of the business is not your concern."

Ethan took the warning. "Yeah. As long as the middle join is smooth, then there's no need for either end to concern itself too much with the other, I suppose."

That tears it. The real deal is somewhere else, and it's in the house or on the grounds because Montana wouldn't want it to be too far out of reach. Well, we should be able to cover the entire house between us, but it may take a couple of days to do it without raising suspicion.

Upstairs Mulder and Manuel made short work of the unpacking, then Fox lay back down on the bed with a dramatic sigh. "I don't know what it is about flying, but even that little hop has left me simply drained."

Manuel sat on the bed beside him. "You will have plenty of time to relax here."

"I suppose so. I just hope I don't get so relaxed that my brain melts."

"Do not worry." Manuel stretched out on the bed beside Mulder. "I will do my best to amuse you."

Mulder rolled on his side and examined the young man. The innuendo in his voice had been so blatant that it could not really be considered innuendo. "Uh-huh. Tell me, darlin', are you comfortable with being considered recreational equipment?"

"I would not live this life if I did not enjoy it, Daniel." He reached out and laid a hand against Mulder's belly. "I chose Senor Montana. I enjoy serving him. Occasionally, though," he stroked lightly, "I want to be the one in control. That is not possible with him, but he does not deny me outside friends." His hand started to slide lower.

Mulder caught his wrist, firmly but not roughly. "I haven't asked Connor yet, pretty boy. He'll probably say yes, but this relationship is founded on being sure about what each of us wants."

Manuel nodded. "I understand. I would enjoy being with him, also. But you are the one I want most."

Fox smiled. "Boy, I have to wonder if you're this honest in everything."

Manuel suddenly twisted his hand, breaking Mulder's grip. In a flash he had seized the FBI agent's wrist in the same way that Mulder had gripped him, but more forcefully. He said softly, "Again you call me a boy, Danny. I told you, I am a man." He leaned down. Mulder sucked in a breath as he felt Manuel's mouth on the inside of his forearm, just below where he was held. There was the soft, warm press of lips, then a wet swipe of tongue. Then there was the pinch of teeth. Mulder jerked, but Manuel hung on, his bite tightening in warning. Mulder subsided. He wasn't breaking the skin, but he was telegraphing the possibility of damage.

After a moment, when Mulder didn't continue to resist, the bite eased and he licked the rapidly bruising skin soothingly, then pressed another kiss on it. When he let go Mulder scowled, rubbing the injured area. "All right, you're a man. A mean man."

"I don't want to be." Manuel stood up. "Please, Daniel. Have a talk with your lover. We are both in the same position. We should be good to each other."

Mulder, expression thoughtful, watched him leave. He looked down at the bruise forming on his wrist and muttered, "The puppy has fangs."

No, Manuel, you and I are not in the same position. You and Daniel aren't, either. Daniel might defer to Connor most of the time, but with them it's more a matter of form than anything else. They respect each other. Olivero may value you, but he sure as hell doesn't respect you.

Ethan returned to the room a few minutes later. He went directly into the bathroom and opened his shaving kit. "So, Danny, what d'ya think so far?"

Mulder followed him and watched as he unscrewed the base of what looked like a can of shaving cream and removed the same bug sweeping device he had used the first day he had met him. "Nice enough, I suppose, even if it IS a little isolated."

Ethan ran the machine in the bathroom. It flashed when it neared the lighting fixture. Ethan put the lid down on the toilet, stood on it, and peered up at the frosted glass globe that encased the lightbulb. "Nice and quiet, though, eh? Ya won't have to worry about the gunshots and car chases keeping you awake at night." He pointed to a small shadow, barely visible inside the globe, and Mulder nodded.

"I just hope that we don't have parrots screaming at all hours of the night." Fox watched as Ethan swept the machine around the bedroom. He located two more devices: one in a lamp on the dresser and one hidden in the elaborate carving on their headboard. When he saw the last he mouthed, "Why, those dirty voyeuristic bastards!"

Ethan put the machine away again, then took Mulder in his arms, pressed his lips to his ear, and whispered, "We'll have to be careful. They aren't strong enough to catch this, but anything approaching a normal voice is out of the question, and if we're quiet too long when we aren't sleeping they might get suspicious." He pulled back and said in his usual voice, "I don't think you'll have to worry about that. They sleep at night. Now, the jaguars are a different matter."

"Con! Don't tell me they actually have them around here? Good lord, I was joking when I said I was afraid a jungle cat would jump on me!"

"Relax, sweetheart. You weren't planning on hiking through the jungle, were you?"

"Most certainly not."

"Then you should be fine, though I 'd rather you didn't go outside at night."

Fox sighed. "But they have that lovely pool, and you know how much I like moonlight swims."

"All right. Just not alone, eh? You know I don't like you swimming alone, anyway. Some day you'll knock that fool head and drown."

"Not likely. I float. It's my buoyant personality."

"Anyone ever tell you ya do NOT suffer from an inferiority complex."

"Um... you have. But like I told Manuel, you're such a liar."

Mulder was pushing his hair back off his forehead when Ethan spotted the bruise just below his wrist. "What's that?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Let me see it."

"No, really, Con, it's all right."

"Danny, give me your hand. Now."

Sighing, Mulder complied. Ethan studied the nasty looking bruise. It was rapidly moving toward purple, and there were darker marks around the edge. "What the fuck? I know I didn't do that to you last night, and it wasn't there this morning. What the hell happened?" Mulder said nothing, fidgeting. He knew that he had to tell Ethan. It was essential that his partner be aware of the attitudes and actions of the men they were dealing with. But he was unsure of how Daniel would react in this situation, and then there was the question of how Montana and Manuel would react to whatever was said. At last he said, "Manuel plays a little rough."

Ethan's hand tightened, and he looked up at Mulder slowly. His eyes were like ice, but his voice was low. "D'ya mean to tell me that he marked you?"

"We didn't really do anything, Con. I told him there'd be none of that until I talked to you. It's my fault, a little. He was a little insistent about being taken seriously as a man, and you know me. I... push things."

Ethan stroked his arm. "Did he hurt you, sweetheart?" Before Mulder could answer, Ethan answered himself. "Fuck, of course he did! You've got a bloody great blue mark."

Mulder had a moment of disorientation. He couldn't be sure how much of this was Ethan acting as Connor, and how much of it was just Ethan. He knew that Hunt would not jeopardize the mission this early in the game for something as trivial as a bruise administered in what amounted to sex play, but he also knew that it wasn't going to be easy for him not to react.

He touched Ethan's cheek. "Baby, it's all right. Actually, it was a little sexy." He forced a laugh. "It's kind of like expecting a cocker spaniel and finding a Doberman."

"But if he does this when you aren't even..."

"Please, Con. He was just making his point. Look, we've come this far, gone through all this shit. We can't let it be spoiled just because someone didn't treat me like spun glass. Promise me that you won't make a big deal out of this."

Ethan sighed heavily. "Danny, are ya sure ya want to have anything to do with either of them? You don't have to, you know."

"Do you want me to stay away from them, love?"

"I don't know. I want you to be happy."

"We don't have to decide anything right now. We can just see what develops. So, you've seen the nerve center?" Mulder gave the last two words a sardonic twist.

"Yah. Ya know, Danny, it's amazing. The man doesn't keep any paper records."

"Is that so?" Ethan made a 'bullshit' gesture, and Mulder nodded. "My. He must be incredibly organized to run such a big operation without it. How are you going to be able to decide whether or not to make the deal if you don't have figures to look at?"

Ethan shrugged. "I suppose he'll provide what he sees fit, and I'll decide on that. I just hope he knows that too little information might decide me in a direction he won't like." He directed this statement pointedly at one of the bugs.

Downstairs, in a small room off Olivero's office, one that Ethan had been told was a supply closet, Olivero sat at a desk. looking at the electronics panel before him. The switch indicating the bedroom Galbraith and Ballard had chosen was flipped to 'ON', and he was listening to the conversation. Manuel stood behind him. "So. A bit over eager, pet?"

Manuel shrugged. He could tell that Olivero wasn't really upset. The big man wanted the American as much as Manuel did, and he was perfectly willing to allow his submissive to test the waters before he made a move himself. "He invites it, Master."

"How did he react?"

"Nicely. A little reluctance at first."

"Interesting. Do you think that Connor will give his blessing?"

"It is difficult to say. If he thinks Daniel wants it, I believe he will. I think that including him would make it much more likely than approaching Daniel alone, though. They are very devoted to each other."

"You think so? It looks like that, I admit. But appearances can be deceiving when it comes to fidelity, Manuel. I can attest to that."

Again there was the strange distance in his voice, and Manuel sensed that it was not necessarily Daniel Ballard and Connor Galbraith who had inspired it.