“I understand,” I say. I expected as much. I knew someone would leak. “We will proceed as planned. How is the mood?”
“I can’t confirm there won’t be any disruption.”
“Is it the muscle boy again?” I ask.
“He seems to have no further questions, but there is some struggle for power that should be addressed.”
I breathe out long with blown cheeks.
They’re like a pack of wolves. Just without the rules.
“Who do you think is most vulnerable?”
“Those two,” he says and points to the names with their photos on the map.
I nod, making a mental note to be very careful, before I dive back into what I was doing.
It is a lot, and I live under constant hyper-vigilance, and yet some sort of excitement resides in my chest. Of course, I didn’t think it was easy, but I didn’t know it would actually be exciting. While studying, we had all the fake and rarely real cases where we had to analyse hypothetical questions. Now, I am diving into a criminal organisation from the inside, and I can use all I have learned for the first time.
I had Salvatore tell me everything about family structures, and we drew a huge map of all the connections and names. I am quite bad at remembering names, so I memorised them in my mental palace, where I string names and information into a world I created in there.
It is basically a corridor with doors, each of which has a number, and it’s the digits of Pi. Behind every door is a room with different boxes where I categorise the information.
Now, I’m working myself through Giuseppe’s notes. Routes, accounts, and people he was in contact with. I secretly list everything.
“Is there anything else you need?” Salvatore asks.
“Not for the time being,” I say. “I’ll give you a call. I’m working through all the stuff here. Unless you have something?”
“There is one thing,” he says. “There has been a hiccup with a shipment in the Gulf of Mexico.”
“What does hiccup mean?”
“The ship has been flagged, and the DEA has set out to investigate.”
“What’s on it?” I ask, fully focusing on Salvatore.
“Coffee, thirty-three numeri, and cocaine with a value of forty-two million. They were preparing the swab outside the jurisdiction and a load off to three smaller vessels, one going to the Port of Houston, one to the Port of Palermo, and the other to the Port of Rome.”
I swallow. Forty-two million.
“What are numeri?”
“Humans.”
Goosebumps spread over my arms. Not of the good kind.
“Has that happened before?”
“Never.”
“It’s a power grab,” I say. “Who else knew of the shipment except you?”
Salvatore points at the two men he has shown me before. “He takes care of the ports in Palermo, and the other for Rome.”
I have no idea what to do. I don’t dare ask what Giuseppe would have done. I can’t look weak. Although I might be able to frame it differently.
“I assume there is a protocol?”
