Chapter 35
Rocco pushed through the clinic”s back door and inhaled a deep breath. The tropical air was heavy, carrying the distant sound of the Caribbean surf. Palm trees rustled gently in the night breeze, their shadows dancing on the clinic”s faded walls. It had been a slow day, which gave him too much time to think about Jemma.
He’d never thought about how pretending to be a couple could put her at risk when they were around other members of the Sombro Cartel, some who might have spent time working for Manny Ortiz.
Rocco had worked himself up too much and left during lunch to check on Jemma. But she wasn’t at the bungalow, and she wasn’t answering her phone. He didn’t want to feel like a jealous boyfriend, but he was pissed she hadn’t told him where she’d be today. Knowing Jemma, she’d kick his ass if he made a big deal about her lack of communication. Yes, she could take care of herself. But he wanted her to know she didn’t have to. Just like he’d stepped in and helped her get away from that asshole at the club in La Placita, he would do that again. He’d do it whenever she needed him and when she didn’t.
The rest of the day had crawled at a snail’s pace. There were only a handful of patients, which The Two Carlas had no problem handling. So, he’d grabbed a burner phone and checked in with Proteus. Lenny had given him an update on Eddie Baez’s moves. His gang had battled another rival and taken over their territory, expanding his foothold in selling drugs around San Juan. He was gaining more respect across the Caribbean. But they were still at a loss on the connection Eddie could offer El Sombro.
Even more strange was that Jemma hadn’t sent them the photos of the unidentified man they’d seen in the jungle with Vance and Eddie. Lenny and Tank didn’t seem concerned. Jemma had remote access to all their cyber-intelligence software and was known to do research herself. She didn’t need them to run the search. He still thought it was strange she hadn’t mentioned it.
Or maybe he was on edge because he didn’t know where she was.
Turning the corner, Rocco paused. In the dim glow of the streetlight, Dante leaned against the weathered wall of the clinic, methodically disassembling and reassembling his handgun with practiced ease.
He approached his friend, footsteps soft on the gravel.
”Slow night?” Dante asked, his eyes never leaving the gun. His fingers moved with a surgeon’s precision, each part of the handgun sliding away effortlessly under his deft touch.
”Yeah. Unless you’re about to change that,” Rocco said, giving the man the once over for any wounds but finding none. His gaze darted from Dante”s gun to the desolate street.
Dante shook his head, clicking the gun”s barrel into place with an ominous snap. ”No. I came by to talk.”
”Talk?” Rocco raised an eyebrow.
”You’re the only one I trust these days,” Dante confessed.
“What’s going on?” Rocco leaned against the wall beside Dante.
“Seems I might have fucked up something important when I kicked Eddie’s ass this past weekend. El Sombro is livid and warned me that if things go sour because of it, my ass is on the line,” Dante said, his tone devoid of any emotion.
“You worried?”
“Fuck no,” Dante chuckled darkly, checking the gun”s chamber with a flick of his wrist. “I have to apologize to the bitch before we go to the Palmchat Islands.”
Rocco”s brow furrowed. “Palmchat Islands? You on romantic getaway duty now?”
“Fuck no. El Sombro has a meeting with the PC-5,” Dante said, then looked at Rocco.
Rocco was reeling from this unexpected information and Dante’s candor. He had to be cautious. He considered the man a friend, but Dante wasn’t above setting him up with fake information or testing his loyalty with legitimate intel. “I thought he had beef with them because they won’t let him take shortcuts through their islands.”
“Right,” Dante confirmed.
“So, do they know he’s coming?”
“For sure. You don’t surprise the PC-5.”
“Why would they meet with him?”
“To hear a request for … permission.”
”Permission,” Rocco repeated, the realization dawning on him. He forced a confused look on his face to cover up the adrenaline spiking through his veins. There was only one reason El Sombro would need permission from the PC-5—to move a shipment through the Palmchat Islands.
In his time undercover, Rocco had learned enough to know that the cartel was methodical with the logistics for shipping drugs. Every shipment was a well-coordinated and orchestrated event, with contingency plans that had their own contingency plans. Mistakes weren’t allowed. Each part of the organization knew its roles and performed them with precision. It was the primary reason he’d been unable to uncover details of any shipment to give the DEA a way to bust the cartel.
But if El Sombro had built his routes around those islands, what could have changed? Why would he need to move drugs through there now?
”Whatever bullshit Eddie Baez is pitching to the boss is big enough that he has to go groveling to the PC-5. What does that tell you?” Dante”s face was grim as he clicked the gun”s safety on and off, the sound sharp in the quiet night.
“I’m surprised you don’t know,” Rocco said.
“Vance is the only one who knows the details. I won’t know until the time comes when the shipment needs security,” Dante explained.
“Like the shipments that will start coming to the clinic,” Rocco surmised.
“Nope.” Anger flashed on Dante’s face. “I’ve been replaced by Eddie’s crew for those. You’ll deal directly with him when those start next week.”
Next week? That was important information Rocco hadn’t known. Not surprising, though, since Vance had made it clear that details of the shipment would come to him randomly, at unexpected times and only when he needed to know. Dante’s slip-up gave him an advantage.
“They want to give him a chance to show his value.” Dante’s voice rose with incredulity. “Seriously? We’re about to move fifty kilos of cocaine from the port to Dajabon, and you want to test an unknown group? What fucking sense does that make?”
“Maybe that was part of the deal Eddie made with El Sombro. He wants in on some of the trafficking deals and is willing to put his men up to secure a portion of the profits,” Rocco surmised, though he was already cycling through flaws to that theory.
“There has never been a shipment this large that my guys weren’t around to oversee. We’ve done this hundreds of times. We know the signs to look out for and how to protect the shipment from falling into the hands of the DNCD. Eddie’s team won’t be able to do that, and my fucking hands are tied.”
“Let me guess, the boss told you to fuck off and do what you’re told?”
“Yeah, and that’s not all he told me,” Dante said, shock evident in his voice. “There’s something else going on that he wants me on standby for around the same time. That’s why my men won’t be working the cocaine shipment.”
”Something bigger than moving two million dollars of cocaine through this place?” Rocco didn’t hide his shock. If anything went wrong with the cocaine coming from South America, it could ruin his deals with the cartels down there.
”It has to be, right? But I don’t know for sure, and he’s not telling me shit. Now you see what I’m talking about? The whole fucking situation is strange. You need to watch your back with Eddie,” Dante warned, his gaze sharp and earnest. “I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either. The shipment through the clinic is a big deal, despite how El Sombro dismisses it. If Eddie screws up, I’d hate to see you take the fall and end up behind bars.”