His semi-hard cock was still inside her when he said, “Now that we’ve cleared the air, I found out some interesting information from Dante this evening that could mean a trip to the Palmchat Islands is in our future.”
Jemma laughed, then slapped him on the ass. “You have great timing. I’m listening …”
Chapter 37
Rocco inhaled the fresh ocean air as he sat on the top deck of the private boat Jemma had chartered to take him to St. Felipe. After giving her the run-down of the intel he’d gotten from Dante, she’d explained in excruciating detail why going to the Palmchat Islands was problematic but necessary.
The Proteus Operation was off-the-books.
The local Caribbean DEA offices and the DNCD were unaware he was undercover in the Dominican Republic. Coordinating with the Palmchat Islands Investigative Bureau to look into the meeting would be harder. The PIIB was notorious for wanting no interference in matters within their borders.
Rocco was on his own.
But luckily, he had a trump card that could make his mission much easier.
The mid-morning sun glinted off the thick, black steel card in his hand.
The nature of Eddie’s involvement with El Sombro had solidified. He was getting access to trafficking routes, likely to help facilitate arrangements with the cartels for drugs to supply hisgrowing operations in San Juan. But he’d bought that access with a connection El Sombro wanted. A connection that required permission from the PC-5 to move a shipment through the Palmchat Islands.
Neither he nor Jemma thought the shipment was related to drugs.
The cartel was masterful in shipping cocaine, fentanyl, and heroin across the Caribbean to the U.S. and Europe, with very few busts to disrupt their business. El Sombro didn’t need the PC-5 to keep that going.
So what did he need to ship through the Palmchat Islands?
Rocco hoped Everett and the guys at Stingray Security could help him find out.
Jemma had stayed behind, pointing out that coming with him could blow his cover. There was no doubt that Everett would recognize her. They needed everyone to continue to believe he was a former undercover agent who’d switched sides and now worked for the cartel. He didn’t like lying to Everett, but he had no choice.
The boat docked at the marina a couple hours later. Rocco walked down the street toward a shop renting mopeds for the day. He gave the man enough cash to eliminate the requirement of providing a driver’s license. The baseball cap tucked low on his head minimized the likelihood that the shop owner could describe him to anyone who might ask.
Another hour passed as he rode the bike through the winding Cabrito mountains until he reached the Stingray Security compound. He pressed the card against the badge reader. There was an audible click, then the door to the compound swung open. Slipping the card into his back pocket, Rocco navigated the maze of corridors in the state-of-the-art facility. The place was top-notch, better than most DEA training facilities, with a massive cyber-intelligence system, workout facilities, and living quarters.
Turning another corner, Rocco stopped and stared ahead.
“Well, look who’s here,” Sebastian said, walking toward him with an outstretched hand. “I thought you wouldn’t be back for a few weeks to check on Ike.”
Rocco shook his hand. “I’m not here for that,” he said, getting straight to the point.
Everett must have detected the seriousness in his tone because his friend rose from the table and walked over. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No trouble,” Rocco reassured him. “But I do need help.”
“What kind of help?” Lachlan asked. “And why didn’t you call? I could’ve flown you over.”
He’d bypassed his regular transportation to St. Felipe since he couldn’t tell Jemma about Ike. She thought he was meeting Everett, the former DEA agent turned private investigator. Rocco had convinced Jemma that Everett had contacts to help him find out about El Sombro’s meeting with the PC-5. He conveniently left out details about Stingray Security.
“There was no time for that,” Rocco said. Finding out when Dante was going to the Palmchat Islands with El Sombro was as easy as inviting the man out for drinks. Dante declined, explaining that he would if he wasn’t in St. Killian for the PC-5 meeting the next day. “I have a time-sensitive request.”
Kane ran into the room. “Is that Rocco’s voice I hear?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Rocco said, shaking his hand.
“What kind of time-sensitive request? Everything we have is at your disposal, you know that,” Kane said warmly.
“Not so fast,” Everett said, giving him the once over. “We should hear the request first.”
“With a friend like Everett, you don’t need enemies, do you, Rocco?” Adonis chimed in, chuckling. “Lighten up, man.”
