CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
One nautical mile off the coast of Palma, Mallorca
December 14
Cam navigated the boat out into the Mediterranean. Minutes later, he spotted the cabin cruiser.
Thirty minutes later, he was standing on the deck, being greeted by his impromptu family. Cam took a minute to bask in the sanctuary of friendship, then he turned to Tox.
“Got a place we can talk.”
Tox circled a finger in the air to corral the group, grabbed Calliope by the hand, and said, “Follow me.”
In an interior room of the vessel, Steady rested his booted feet on the empty chair next to him. “This may be the first mission in history that started with a psycho model stalking an operator.”
“Who she thinks is an arms dealer,” Ren added.
“Yeah, Gemini had me brought to her.” Cam sighed. “She's not used to being blown off, and I guess she wanted to explore the possibilities.”
“Dude, what do you do to these women? You need to write a book,” Steady mused.
“There's more going on here, fellas. Her cousin Atlas took over the company a year ago.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “He's running a heroin operation out of the mine.”
The group nodded.
“How could you possibly know that?” Cam asked.
Tox and Ren spoke at the same time. “Finn.” Ren continued, “He's heard chatter about Atlas March's extracurricular activities.”
Cam confirmed, “Yeah, he was on The Agency's radar when he was working in Colombia.”
“Is it possible someone was pulling Gemini's strings? I mean, you’re a strapping man and all, but that's a bit extreme for anyone.” Tox rubbed the back of his neck.
Cam shook his head. “I don’t think anyone pulls Gemini March's strings. She's used to getting what she wants.”
Tox rested his hand on his wife's back. “Well, psycho supermodels aside, there is definitely more going on here than meets the eye.” He leaned forward. “Cam, The Conductor is somehow involved in all of this.”
Cam shot to his feet. “How do you know about The Conductor?”
Ren answered, his face serious. “Nathan filled us in.”
“Good, because I think I know why The Conductor is interested,” Cam said. “Atlas March is not only manufacturing heroin; he acquired a shipping company and plans on moving the product himself. The Conductor doesn’t take too kindly to traffickers trying to circumvent him.”
“There's another reason,” Tox added.
Cam heard the trepidation in his friend's voice. “What?”
“When you were with The Company, did you cross paths with an officer by the name of Raymond Greene?” Tox asked.
“Yeah, why?” Cam replied warily.
“His body was discovered washed up on a beach in Crimea two weeks ago. According to the local authorities, the water had done its worst, but it was pretty clear he had been tortured before being shot. That ship you documented in your notes? The Maestro? It was docked at a marina in Sevastopol four days before Greene went missing.” Tox explained.
“I got a call on my agency phone three or four weeks ago. It didn’t connect, but the call originated in Crimea, where Greene was stationed. I wondered if it was Greene. Maybe he was trying to warn me.” Cam hung his head. “Greene wouldn’t have broken. He was solid.”
Tox spoke quietly. “He also had a daughter. If The Conductor knew…”
Cam understood instantly. “Greene would be vulnerable. Shit. For about a year, I kept a log of notes on The Conductor—anything that pointed to a commonality in different smuggling or trafficking operations. Greene knew about it,” Cam explained.