Inside the Circle: The Drug Cartel - One Way In...No Way Out! - Softcover

J Daris Moore, Daris Moore

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1440155135 ISBN 13: 9781440155130

Publisher: iUniverse, 2009

Synopsis

I was holding a 9mm to the back of his head. If I pulled the trigger, my life was over as I knew it. If I didn't pull the trigger, the squad standing directly behind me would end my life...

Before the DEA, there was UNDO-the United Narcotic Deployment Operation. This agency's primary assignment was to monitor and infiltrate the Colombian drug cartel. And when Internal Affairs suggests Matt Stryker as a possible candidate for the newly formed agency, he doesn't hesitate in accepting the position. Little does he know just what he's getting himself into.

Stryker goes deep undercover in Miami, penetrating a powerful and dangerous organization headed by one of Colombia's most ruthless drug lords, Gonzalo. He is soon part of the inner circle and becomes one of Gonzalo's most trusted men, a move that infuriates Gonzalo's arrogant lieutenant, Alverez. But Stryker really plays with fire when he indulges in a secret affair with Alverez's beautiful girlfriend, Lorita.

It's about to get a whole lot more complicated. With the information Stryker gives to UNDO, Operation Blast Furnace against the cartel is about to commence. The stakes can't get much higher and Stryker knows he won't have a second chance. But now that he's inside the circle, can he ever get out? There's only one way to find out...

About this title

About the Author

J. Daris Moore based Inside the Circle on his experience as a law enforcement officer during the beginning stages of the powerful Colombian drug cartels.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Inside the Circle

The Drug Cartel - One Way In ... No Way Out!By J. Daris Moore

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2009 J. Daris Moore
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-5513-0

Chapter One

As I stood inside the rundown waterfront warehouse at the Port of Miami, I wondered how my life was ever going to return to normal. Jack Hamilton, my only contact to the outside world, was in front of me, kneeling down Colombian execution style. I was holding a 9mm to the back of his head. If I pulled the trigger, my life was over as I knew it. I would be a wanted fugitive just like the scumbags I was trying to put away. If I didn't pull the trigger, the squad standing directly behind me with weapons drawn would end my life.

Hamilton looked up at me as if already dead, "Save yourself," he whispered. "They don't know anything." Alverez, the squad's lieutenant, a handsome Latin with jet black hair and eyes of steel was beginning to get a little agitated. "Stryker," he shouted, "put a goddamn bullet in his goddamn head or I'll put one in yours. Understand?" he said, as he racked a round into his gun. "I hear you asswipe," I snarled back to him. "Forgive me Jack," I whispered, and I pulled the trigger. To my surprise the next thing I heard was not the usual sound of an exploding bullet racing down the barrel of my gun but a dull thunk of the hammer falling on an empty chamber. Alverez let out an obnoxious laugh as Hamilton fell responding to the sound that should have signaled his death. "Well Stryker," Alverez said, "I guess you passed the test. You're now inside the circle."

"What do you mean I passed the test, you demented son of a bitch?"

"Hey, hey, don't get pissed off at me," Alverez snapped back. "I was just following orders from Gonzalo."

"Who the hell is Gonzalo?" I demanded.

"Don't worry," said Alverez, "formal introductions tomorrow."

"What about Hamilton?"

"He's nothing," Alverez said, spitting on the wooden floor decking near Hamilton. "Just another Fed who tried to double dip on cartel money and got caught." Hearing that, my heart started pounding like a racehorse at the derby. I wondered if Hamilton had informed the cartel that I was his operative. "Just another Fed who thought he could skim a couple million off the cartel and disappear from the face of the earth. Isn't that right agent Hamilton?" Hamilton held his head low and said nothing. Alverez repeated, "Isn't that right Mr. Federal UNDO agent Hamilton!" Hamilton slowly turned to look at Alverez and then to me. But then he smiled his wiry grin and turned back to Alverez: "Yeah, I was going to rip you off for a couple million more, you dip shit wet back. And I would have if I hadn't screwed up."

"You screwed up all right," Alverez said as he put the gun barrel between Hamilton's eyes. "You really screwed up." At that instant Alzerez pulled the trigger and sent half of Hamilton's head along with his brains into the air, smattering the wall in front of me.

"What the hell did you do that for?" I screamed at Alverez. "You ignorant piss ant. Don't you know that the Feds will now send in an army? You just blew away a federal agent! I can't believe how stupid you people are."

The stunned look on Alverez's face as I yelled confirmed my hope: Hamilton had not revealed my identity. He could have turned me over to them to save his ass, but he didn't. Maybe, he wanted me to succeed to make his skimmings larger. I guess I'll never really know why Hamilton didn't flip on me. I might have been next on the list for a bullet, but I could see that I'd been spared and that I might still be able to complete my assignment. I was sent to infiltrate the cartel. With my job finished as far as Alverez was concerned, I was excused. Did Hamilton select me for my street smarts or did he have some other hidden agenda? That is one unanswered question that Hamilton will take to his grave. My primary test completed, I headed for my hotel in order to get a drink and figure out my next move.

By the time I got back to my hotel on Miami's South Beach, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. The gay population inhabiting the area was in high gear by this time. I never could understand how a man could get from another man the kind of pleasure that I got from a woman. I needed a single malt scotch to quell my nerves. Looking up and down the street in front of my hotel for a bar, I was not too excited about being seen as fresh meat. But my desire for a straight shot of single malt scotch won out, and I started checking out the nearby establishments. After walking about a block I spotted a little hole-in-the-wall bar with a small neon gold torch over the entrance. Taking a deep breath and looking one more time up and down the street, I stepped inside.

The place was dimly lit, with the only noticeable light coming from the back. As I made my way through the darkness, I tripped headlong into a table occupied by several men. "Great," I thought, falling face down into one of their laps.

I apologized for my clumsiness as they lifted me to my feet and asked me to join them. With as much decency as I could muster, I told them that I'd only come for a quick drink. At that instant, one of the men seated at the table got up and said, "What's the matter; do you have something against me?" Considering his size-at least 6'4" and 225 pounds-I again tried to explain, but immediately the Swartzeneggar look-alike moved closer and demanded, "Do you have something against having a drink with a gay man or not?" Things looked bleak, and I began to reconsider the invitation when slowly the guy started to back away.

It didn't take long to figure out why. He had a 9mm pointed at his cranium. Then, the all too familiar voice that I recognized as Alverez's teased, "Hey Stryker, I had a feeling I should keep an eye on you tonight."

"Thanks for your concern Alverez," I said, "but I think I can handle this on my own."

"Sure you can Stryker," the Colombian lieutenant replied with a laugh while three of his henchmen surrounded the giant and walked him to the back of the bar. It wasn't long until the pounding of flesh was the dominant sound in the place. No one there moved. It was clear who was master.

Alverez took me by the arm, forcefully guiding me out of the bar. His long black hair, fine clothes, and handsome face made us even more conspicuous in this establishment-or any other for that matter-but no one dared to look our way. Once outside he informed me that my visit to South Beach was over. I needed to get my things from the hotel. "I'm taking you to a place that I think will be more to your liking. That is of course, unless you really are gay!" By this time, I was eager for a change. "Okay," I said, "lead the way." With another wave of the hand, a stretch limo came screeching up to the curb in front of us and whisked us away.

Chapter Two

Leaving South Beach after a brief stop at my hotel, I found myself rather numb. Alverez was a dangerous man, but for some strange reason I felt safe and calm. There was complete silence in the limo until we crossed over Biscayne Bay. Then Alverez broke in. "What a night! Can you believe that Hamilton? He really thought that he could rip us off and not get caught. The fool was paid well for his information. Real good! But he just couldn't handle all that money being around him." Was Alverez bothered by the fact that he had to whack Hamilton? Is that what this talk was about, or was he fishing for something? I remained quiet.

Turning to me with a somber and sincere look, he continued, "You know what Stryker? I really hated to whack him. He took one in the back for me a year ago in a DEA raid on our Fort Lauderdale operation." Thinking back in time, I remembered that was about when Hamilton first contacted me. I was a deputy with the Sheriff's office. Internal Affairs had suggested me as a possible candidate for a newly formed agency called UNDO-the United Narcotic Deployment Operation whose primary assignment was to monitor and infiltrate the Colombian drug cartel.

Several months passed before Hamilton contacted me again, and now I know why. He was recuperating from a gunshot wound. I could feel my pulse quicken as I recalled just how much Hamilton knew and made up about me. After all, Hamilton had convinced the cartel that I was the man they needed for their Atlanta operations. Hamilton had told them he knew this cop who got busted for taking kickbacks from the local dealers and pimps and who was given a choice of resigning or being kicked off the force. For my protection, Hamilton told me that I was to be discharged from the department on paper, so if anyone did a background check they would find my resignation and Internal Affairs report. Hamilton had told an awful lot of lies to get me on board and one slip would unravel the whole story.

"Stryker, where are you man?" Alverez shouted. He seemed annoyed at my lack of attention. "Are you okay with this Hamilton thing?"

Regaining my composure as quickly as I could, I told him that I had never had to shoot or in this case almost shoot someone, and that I was still a little unnerved by the whole situation. "Get use to it," Alverez said sternly. "Death is just part of our business, so, don't take it so personally. I sure don't."

The limo pulled up to a large gate at the head of a long driveway somewhere in the Miami River district. As the metal structure slowly slid open and the car rolled through, Alverez turned to me, clearly still feeling uneasy. "We will talk about this Hamilton matter later, but for now let's get you settled in," he said. As the stretch came to a stop, armed Colombians quickly opened the doors. Alverez stepped out gazing at his residential fortress and issued some orders in Colombian, which sent the guards scurrying to different areas of the property. "Impressive," I said, as I looked at no less than a half dozen men take their positions. And, it was impressive. The sprawling Meterrainnian estate home was set majestically back in the property surrounded by lush tropical landscaping. Massive arched windows gave an inner look of what was to be sheer luxury inside. The circular drive made its way to the eloquent entry of imported marble leading to the largest double entry doors I think that I've ever seen.

Alverez viewed his domain with pride and said, "Yes, it is. Now, let's go inside, and I'll introduce you to some of the others."

Following behind Alverez, I could hear the barking of what sounded like some rather large dogs at a distant end of the property. "Yeah," said Alverez in response to my pricked ears, "with the DEA and every other damn government agency snooping around hoping to catch me with a load of coke you can't be too careful."

"But, you don't keep any coke on the property, do you?" I asked cautiously, noting his sensitivity to expressions and gestures.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid to bring my drugs into my own home?"

"No," I said not trying to anger my host. "But, I'd like to know what might be stashed under my bed," I added, hoping to lighten the situation a bit. I had to depend on this killer for my own survival and the last thing I needed to do was raise his blood pressure.

"The only thing you'll find under your bed is probably an inch of dust that my sorry maid doesn't clean up," he replied, finally loosening up. As we walked into the den, a beautiful young Colombian girl wearing a long but somewhat revealing nightgown met Alverez with a drink in her hand. Alverez took the drink from her at the same time giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Lorita," Alverez said, "I want you to meet Matt Stryker. Your first name is Matt, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied, feeling a little more at ease. Then suddenly the sound of running feet from behind prompted me to turn quickly. One of the inside guards were running towards us. The guard rattled something off in his native Colombian. Whatever he said had an immediate affect upon Alverez. Without even looking, Alverez handed the drink back to Lorita, walked towards the guard, and without looking at me, said, "Stryker, I'll see you in the morning. Lorita, show our guest to his room." Then he started hollering in Colombian.

"Hey, I said. "What's going on?"

With his eyes fixed straight ahead, Alverez angrily repeated, "I said that I'll see you in the morning." With that he stormed out to the car, screaming all the way.

"If you like I'll show you to your room now," said Lorita without the slightest acknowledgment of the odd behavior.

"Hey, lady," I demanded, "What in hell is going on?"

In her soft, broken English she nonchalantly replied, "If Alverez wanted to let you know where he was going, he would have told you. Now, do you want me to show you to your room or not?"

It was getting close to sun-up but I didn't feel much like sleeping. The excitement of Alverez's departure had given me an adrenaline rush, but Lorita was staring at me, somewhat perturbed and awaiting my reply. "Yeah, I guess you can show me to my room." At that, she called out some orders in Colombian and demonstrated her power as lady of the house. Another guard came in; he soon disappeared into the foyer, presumably to take my suitcase to my room.

"I apologize, Mr. Stryker," she said, with a much more pleasant tone, "with all the excitement, I didn't get a chance to offer you a drink. Would you like one now?"

"Yes," I said. "I think I could use one about now."

"What's your pleasure?" she queried with a sultry smile.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

"A pain in the ass," she stated.

She'd appeared so completely harmless and submissive that her words stunned me.

"My drink, Mr. Stryker," she explained, noticing my surprise, "it's called a pain in the ass." The innocent humor of this verbal exchange had us both laughing as I told her a "pain in the ass" would be just fine.

As we walked back into the den where Alverez had an exquisite full bar, I could not help but notice the shapeliness of Lorita's body through her sheer gown, especially as the gown became essentially transparent the closer she came to the huge chandelier that hung in the foyer. In all my years, I'd never seen a woman with such a perfect body. I figured she had to work out daily, and obviously she had one goal in mind: tone every muscle not only to peak condition but to enhance a woman's figure-soft yet strong. I was stunned as I watched her blend the ingredients for the finely crafted drink.

"Not to heavy, and not to light," she said with a smile. She went on to tell me that on a trip to the Keys, she and Alverez stopped at a place called Kokomo's where this was the specialty drink. "Alverez, got the recipe from the bartender," she added, "and it's now our house specialty."

After enjoying some causal conversation with our drinks, Lorita asked if I would like to go to bed. I nearly choked on my last swallow, and she perceptively restated the question: "I mean Mr. Stryker, would you like me to take you to your room now?"

"Yes," I said, placing my empty glass on the bar. "It's late and I imagine that you are probably ready to turn in too."

"You're right, Mr. Stryker. It's been a long day, and you have a very important one ahead of you."

Following this Colombian beauty up the stairs, I entered a room that an entire family could have lived in. As I walked a distance to the front of the bed, Lorita pulled down the elegant bedspread. I could not help but notice the fullness of her breasts, and looking at her contoured body, I thought to myself how nice it would be to go to bed with this lady each night. She must have read my mind, because when I looked back up into her face, her look was stern as she said, "Good night, Mr. Stryker! If you need anything, Pascal will get it for you!" She then turned and walked out of the room shutting the door behind her. "Just great," I thought to myself. "I'm coming on to a madman's lady." But I was too tired to worry much about it. There were far more important things to consider and I knew that I had better get whatever sleep I could, so for now, I put her out of my mind.

Chapter Three

The morning hours arrived with the same commotion that had ended the previous evening. The limo appeared and Alverez was quickly escorted inside. Whatever business Alverez was taking care of, it was clear that last night had not gone well. His shouting echoed throughout the place. I got dressed quickly and hurried out of my room. Upon reaching the stairway, I looked down into the foyer to see Alverez slapping one of his men around.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Inside the Circleby J. Daris Moore Copyright © 2009 by J. Daris Moore. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Edition details

• Publisher: iUniverse
• Publication date: 2009
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 1440155135
• ISBN 13: 9781440155130
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 236