Rocco is a product of Italian immigrants, from back in the early 1900's. His great grandfather moved to New York City in 1910, at the age of 12 years old, with his parents. Rocco's family comes from a long line of mob-tied influenced people, including his grandfather, and father, who both used to run weapons between Italy, the US, Columbia, and Mexico. Rocco was always around different members of his family's mob family, and grew up only knowing other children that belonged to that family. At 18 he joined the military; because, his father said if he was to work for the family, the best training he could get would come from having a military background. In 2010, Rocco's first deployment was to Chernarus, where the US Army had a military base. He spent 2 years here, during a time of peace between the US and Chernarus.
Towards the end of his deployment, news of an "outbreak" swept the country. It spread like wildfire, and Rocco actually made it out before the country was completely devastated by the disease.
Fast forward a few more years, and Rocco's 4 year contract with the military is coming to an end. He spent the rest of his days in Fort Bragg, NC. The world watched in horror as the plague spread through most of Europe, but news of survivors around Chernarus was also a welcoming sign.
Rocco sits in a common room at night in his barracks. Some of the guys are playing board games, others are watching the news. Rocco is smoking a cigarette in the doorway and overhears a couple of the guys talking.
"I hear that with the lack of government support, Chernarus is having a really hard time rebuilding. Sounds like a cowboy's wild wild west over there".
This got Rocco thinking.
Rocco's tenure with the military ends, and he heads back home to New York. He immediately tells his father and family members after getting off the plane, "we need to talk". They head home, and Rocco's mind is going crazy with ideas that he knows his father will love. But it's the scent of his mother's cooking that makes him double guess himself. After dinner, his father, brother, uncle, and another member of his mob family sit down and ask him what he needed to talk about.
"Chernarus" said Rocco.
"What about that shithole, Rocky?" asked his Uncle.
"Right now, there's nothing there. No government. The military left. No media. Nobody to tell anyone what to do. We've always had a problem moving product to Europe right? This is our chance. What if we set up a small operation there, to hold our product, for redistribution to the rest of Europe? Nobody would think to go into the country, so it would be the perfect hiding spot. If we can smuggle our goods into the country, it would be very easy to move around from within."
There's a long pause in the room. Everyone looks around with the same "is he crazy" look on their face.
"Look," continues Rocco. "I know the land. I spent 2 years there. It's a hillside country, and I know damn near every town and village. I know where the military bases were set up. I know where to get in and out of the country. Nobody would coming looking. Send me over there, let me scout it out, and I can get back with the intel I come up with. The disease doesn't seem to be spreading. Some of the guys that came back had gotten infected, but I didn't. They say if you came in contact with it over there but didn't change into.. whatever they are, you're immune. I'm immune."
His family started to talk amongst themselves with the possibility of this being a reality.
"We do have quite the issue over there with keeping our product safe. The second it gets into the country, we have to move it as quick as possible. It would be nice to have a storehouse", said his brother.
His father paused, and took a deep breathe. "All right Rocky, if you want to give it a try, we'll smuggle you back into the country. Gather what info you can, and get back here in one piece. I'll let the Boss know what's up."
And so Rocco's journey begins. Back into Chernarus to set up a distribution line for his family's cocaine & meth trade. What he didn't expect, was the amount of survivors he would run into...