Narcos

But tonight was different. Tonight, a man named Javier Peña was waiting for him.

Peña didn’t look up. “He never made it to the airport. Neither did the family. They found the wife in a ditch outside La Ceja. The kid… they haven’t found the kid.” Narcos

“Now.”

For two weeks, Luis had done nothing. Then came the night of the silver delivery. But tonight was different

Luis’s mouth went dry. The DEA had given him a special paper. Invisible ink under normal light. But Chuzo had been staring at the sun through a car window all afternoon—his pupils were pinpricks. He saw everything. “He never made it to the airport

He was working late in the Monaco basement, a vaulted room with no windows, only the hum of air conditioning and the clack of an adding machine. A young sicario named Chuzo appeared in the doorway, a gold chain around his neck and a .38 tucked into his waistband.

“I’m still reconciling the Panama accounts.”