Covering her eyes with dark shades, Jemma stepped onto the wide sidewalk bordering Old San Juan and took it all in. Down the hill, one of the city’s infamous barrios, La Perla, lay in a discordant maze of worn, weather-beaten, candy-colored buildings that clung to the coastline. The colors were vibrant against the backdrop of the rippling, pristine waters of the Caribbean.
“Supervisor Winters …” A melodic accent floated from behind her as the cool ocean breeze washed over her flushed skin.
Jemma turned and took in the sight of Cedric Pedersen, the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the San Juan DEA Office. He wore a fitted pale pink t-shirt and khaki shorts, blending seamlessly with the crowds of tourists trekking to El Morro.
Slowly, Jemma removed her sunglasses and met Cedric’s gaze. This conversation wouldn’t be easy. It never was for agents running local offices when they were forced to face the cold, hard truth.
As the Group Supervisor of Proteus, an elite team responsible for overseeing and managing complex undercover operations for the entire DEA, Jemma could unilaterally take control of a localoperation. They had to accept her decision. There was no other choice. It was a fate that Cedric faced now.
“Why the hell are you stepping in on this op?” Cedric demanded.
“I didn’t know you were a comedian,” Jemma said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s laughable that you think an undercover operation to infiltrate one of the most dominant drug trafficking organizations in the Caribbean could be handled by a local office. This is Proteus territory, and you know it. You should be glad I didn’t report your ass for not informing us of your intel when you first got the lead.”
Jaw clenched, Cedric motioned for her to follow him across a vast expanse of rolling green lawn. The fortress loomed in the distance, a ribbon of visitors stretched in a long line to the gate waiting to enter. A few kids flew kites while their families set up blankets and picnics on the grass. Jemma fell into step next to him as they put distance between them and the tourists, heading toward the walled edge overlooking the sea.
“I told you that we were only going to lead phase one of the operation. As soon as our UC constructed a full organizational chart of the cartel, I would bring this op to Proteus.” Cedric turned to face her, but his eyes scanned the area for threats.
She did the same.
A hazard of being in the DEA.
No matter how unassuming an area seemed, they were trained to see the truth. The dark underbelly of drug cartels operated most often in plain sight. While it was unlikely anyone could pick up their conversation through a listening device, they still exercised caution.
“Your word doesn’t mean shit these days, Cedric. Jamaica put a stain on you that won’t be easily washed away. I can’t trust that youwould’ve done the right thing,” Jemma admitted. “So, I took the op over from the start.”
A flash of sadness and shame flashed in Cedric’s eyes. “Is that what this is about? You pissed that you couldn’t get me dismissed from the DEA because of a mistake I made. So, you’re undermining my operations?”
“Proteus leadership ensures DEA undercover operations are successful. You have a long list of unsuccessful ops that seems to keep growing,” Jemma reminded him. “It wasn’t a hard sell for leadership to see that I needed to get involved in this one.”
“My guys are going to be crushed. We’ve already started laying the groundwork for this. Connections established, activities in motion,” Cedric said, his defiance and anger melting into a desperate plea.
Jemma searched deep within herself for empathy for the man’s situation but came up empty. He’d massively screwed up an operation in Kingston less than six months ago. How could he think he had what it took to lead another undercover operation? The ink wasn’t dry on the report outlining the dozens of misguided decisions that ruined the last op. And now he wanted to lead the charge to take down El Sombro? Was he serious?
El Sombro, the Shadow, ran a criminal organization that avoided flash, pomp, and circumstance. His identity was unknown. It was rumored that he was a wanted drug trafficker who had vanished or was presumed dead by law enforcement. The list of possible identities had been too broad to launch a meaningful investigation.
Yet, one of Cedric’s agents had gotten the first credible lead on El Sombro. The DEA was now confident that the Shadow had established the base of his operations in Dajabon, Dominican Republic.
Dajabon also happened to be the location of several factions of the Ortiz Cartel who evaded arrest when the cartel was busted, andtheir leader, Manuel “Manny” Ortiz, was sentenced to four hundred years in a Super Max prison.
The DEA had kept tabs on each cartel member, but there was one man who vanished without a trace—Manny’s son and head of enforcers, Nomar Ortiz.
This fact set Jemma’s mind churning with possibilities.
After all these years, could it be possible that Nomar reinvented himself as El Sombro? It was a long shot. Nomar was mostly brawn with very little brains. It was more likely that he’d joined forces with El Sombro to provide enforcement services after the Ortiz Cartel was destroyed. Nomar was a ruthless enforcer who struck fear in members and kept the organization out of trouble. No one dared to betray a cartel when Nomar Ortiz was in charge of enforcement.
Nomar could be why El Sombro’s cartel had been impossible to track.
And El Sombro could be the key to finding Nomar after almost fifteen years.
Adrenaline flooded through her as she considered how close she might be to avenging Aurelia’s murder. Jemma could only find out by having complete control over the operation to gather more intel on El Sombro.
Cedric and his team of agents were collateral damage she couldn’t be concerned about.
“Set up a meeting for your team, and I’ll get mine to explain why we need to take over. That’s the best I can do,” Jemma said, then slipped the sunglasses back on her face.
“You don’t understand. The UC has to be our guy. If the op gets taken away, his career is over. I can’t undo?—”
“What the hell did you do? What’s the cover?”
