A flash of hurt crossed Eddie’s face. “I’d never do that to you. You’ve been too good to me. To all of us. We know what lines not to cross.”
“Okay, so what’s this meeting about?” Rocco asked, curious to see if he would get intel to report to his boss.
“There’s these guys working on the fringes of our turf. I got some details on a shipment I think others would be interested in,” Eddie said, then shrugged.
“Others like … the DEA? You found another connection?” Rocco asked, although he already knew the answer.
For the past three years, Eddie had walked the tightrope of being a confidential informant for the DEA while using the agency to help him move up in the ranks of a local gang. It was a high-risk, high-reward game that Eddie had a knack for winning. He fed more than enough to the DEA to keep them satisfied with the level of busts. Puerto Rico hadn’t been controlled by a major cartel in over fifteen years after an undercover operation out of the San Juan office took down the notorious Ortiz Cartel. Since then, the drug trade still existed but was fractured, disorganized, and easily disrupted, thanks to a network of confidential informants in the various gangs who snitched on rivals for their benefit. Eddie Baez was the most prolific drug dealer benefitting from the arrangement.
“Dude named Stan. Our first meeting is tonight,” Eddie said.
Rocco had hand-picked Special Agent Stanley Murphy of the DEA to take over as Eddie’s contact after his friend, Special Agent Everett Gilliam, left the agency. The Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the office, Cedric Pedersen, had been desperate to getanother connection for Baez. But Rocco knew Eddie well. Not any replacement agent would do. The kid was too bright and too clever. That’s why Everett had been perfect for the role. Stan was the closest second.
“You already gave him the clinic as the meeting spot?” Rocco asked, pretending to be pissed.
Eddie looked away. “Kinda.”
“Fine, but you’re going to have to find another place to meet with the DEA in the future,” Rocco said, grabbing the stack of files and tossing them into a drawer below the counter.
“I thought you liked that I helped the good guys out sometimes. You said it redeemed me from some of the other shit I do.” The kid seemed worried about letting Rocco down.
Rocco wouldn’t get another chance to help Eddie make better choices.
Not once he was reassigned to an undercover operation in the Dominican Republic. His time in Puerto Rico as a doctor by day and a DEA agent by night had reaped huge rewards for the agency and put him in the spotlight.
Being tapped for an undercover assignment to infiltrate a major drug cartel had always been his goal. His work locally made a big difference, but he only sent lower-level thugs and dealers to prison. Not addressing the real cause of the drug epidemic—the cartel leaders who create the massive networks that flood the streets of countries around the world with illegal narcotics.
It was what his father would’ve wanted if he’d lived long enough to give him advice and direction.
“You should think about doing more than chasing fractions of redemption for the life you lead, Eddie. You’re too resourceful and resilient to waste your life in a gang. A life that won’t be long, despite how enterprising you are,” Rocco said, then added, “I hope you’re still here if I ever come back to Puerto Rico.”
“You leaving?” Eddie balked. “Why?”
“There’s a clinic in the Dominican Republic that offered me a position, and I took it,” Rocco said.
“Where in DR?” A frustrated frown clouded Eddie’s face.
“Dajabon.”
“El Sombro territory,” Eddie said, then shrugged. “Hell, we can’t compete with that.”
“That’s not why I’m going,” Rocco said.
It wasn’t a lie.
Eddie may have thought Rocco was motivated by money to treat criminals from one of the most successful drug trafficking organizations in the Caribbean.
The real reason was more noble. He was going to dismantle the cartel from the inside out. By the time he was done, El Sombro and critical members of his organization would be sitting in a Super Max, paying for their crimes.
“Sure it isn’t,” Eddie said, chuckling. “Well, I will miss your ass. Leave the back door unlocked for me, okay.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Rocco said as his phone beeped with an incoming text message. He glanced down at the screen.
Everett
I hope what I’m hearing about you isn’t true. I’m coming to San Juan. Tomorrow. Barrachina. 5 pm.
Chapter 3
