“He wants to run shipments through the clinic in Dajabon. Your role would be to ensure they are received, stored, and protected until we arrange for export or a partner arrives to pick up their … order,” Vance explained. “Details would be provided when necessary, not a second earlier. So, you will have to be agile and nimble. It’s also important to know which of the workers at the clinic you can trust and which should remain in the dark about the arrangement. If this is something you’re willing to take on, then El Sombro will ensure the rewards far exceed the risks.”
Rocco looked away, hoping he could mask the excitement flooding through him. This was the break he’d been waiting for. A chance to get definitive evidence of narcotics being transported by El Sombro. It wouldn’t matter if he knew the identity of the leader or not. This setup meant he could get enough intel on Vance to bring Continuing Criminal Enterprise charges against him. CCE violations came with stiffer consequences than RICO violations. Once Vance was in custody, they could make him a deal for a lessersentence if he gave the DEA El Sombro. He had no doubts the man would flip on his boss. They always did.
Rocco glanced at Dante, who gave him an almost imperceptible shake of the head.
“When do you need a response?” Rocco asked, taking Dante’s signal as a sign to hold back on his eagerness.
Vance seemed pleased that he hadn’t jumped at the offer. He waved a hand dismissively. “Not tonight. There’s no rush. Take your time. Think about it.”
Rocco reached for the bottle of wine and filled his glass.
He’d think about it over a conversation with his handler.
Tank was going to lose his shit when he told him how the perfect opportunity had been gifted to them.
Chapter 21
Rocco hadn’t slept, tossing and turning as he worked through a myriad of strategies to use his new responsibilities to take down the Sombro Cartel. He had no sense of timing because the details he’d be privy to were unknown. Still, a plan could be strategized for multiple scenarios once he had a chance to fill Tank in. He needed the man’s keen strategic mind to cover all bases.
Glancing around the bustling Dajabon Farmers Market, he meandered through the stalls toward the one usually set up in the back near the loading area. It was the stall Tank Coyle rented every third week of the month, bringing in barrels of fresh coconut, bananas, mangoes, pineapples, and papayas.
Over the past three years, Rocco has frequented the market and become a regular customer. They knew him and expected him. Some went so far as to prepare his regular purchases in advance and set them aside so they wouldn’t run out.
The meetup had been Tank’s idea. Hiding in plain sight was a brilliant move. Rocco didn’t always visit when Tank rented a stall. He showed up to make his purchases on days when Tank was absent. He wasn’t friendlier or more aloof with Tank than any of theother stall owners. Because of this meticulous planning, El Sombro or his men hadn't suspected or caught them.
Turning a corner, he brushed past local shoppers and made his way to the end of the row. The last stall was crammed with fruit and baked goods in an arrangement different from how Tank usually set up his produce. Rocco slowed as he approached. A woman barely four feet tall and about as wide stared up at him and gave him a toothless smile.
“Please, señor, don’t leave. My fruit is good. Good like the other guy. I give you good deal.” She waddled from behind the counter and grabbed a browning plantain and bruised mango to thrust in his face. “Smell. It’s good.”
Panic sliced through Rocco.
Where the fuck was Tank? The man had never missed a meeting. Now, he was unexpectedly nowhere around.
“I’m sure it’s good,” Rocco said, forcing his voice to remain calm. “The guy who usually rents here, did they move him to a different location?”
“No.” She shook her head, sending dark strands slapping across her face. “He didn’t pay for this week. So, I rented the stall here. Got it for cheap since it was last minute. You like grapes? I have grapes.”
Something was very wrong. But trying to find out why Tank wasn’t around for their meeting could expose the undercover op. There had to be a reasonable explanation. He needed to be patient.
“Let me try a coconut,” Rocco said, biding his time. Maybe Tank had discovered their meeting location had been compromised. But why wouldn’t he have gotten word to Rocco about the change? Tank planned every excruciating detail and had backup plans for his backup plan. It was unlike him not to find a way to alert Rocco of a change. Especially if he’d missed the earlier cutoff time to purchasethe stall, meaning he knew in advance, he wouldn’t be here. “How much?”
The woman handed him a slice of coconut, then rattled off a series of prices, each one lower than the one before, until Rocco heard a number matching the fruit's poor quality. He grabbed a coconut and tossed it in the air a few times.
“The coconut at a stall toward the front looks much better.”
A woman’s voice floated from behind him.
The same voice that had been in his dreams almost every fucking night.
He reached out to catch the coconut hurtling back down but missed. It landed with a thud on his foot, but he felt no pain. A ripple of electricity coursed over his skin.
Turning slowly, he stared at her. This time, she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. She was definitely in Dajabon …
What was Jemma Winters doing here? What the fuck did it mean for Tank? For the operation to take down El Sombro? The questions hurtled fast and furious in his mind, but he kept his demeanor casual. He couldn’t do anything to bring unwanted attention to them.
Rocco furrowed his brow, the weight of suspicion heavy in his voice. "You think so?"
Jemma tilted her head, the sunlight catching the gloss on her lips. "Definitely."
