I'm more of a dog man myself, but no cat deserves this.
Did you tell anyone about why you were down here?
Someone on the plane? Someone you met at a restaurant?
'Course not.
Not to get personal, but have you had any, uh... encounters?
- "Encounters"? - Yeah.
I'm married.
Right.
Only people I've encountered outside the DEA and my wife
are those Colombian cops in Medellín.
No, no, Carrillo's solid.
Did anyone have access to your credentials?
Did you drop your wallet?
Passport.
How important is this cat to you?
Excuse me?
You gave someone your passport?
We were trying to get Puff through Immigration.
"Puff"?
I didn't name it, dude.
Traffickers pay people at the airports for intel.
A gringo coming in from Miami raises suspicions. That's how you got made.
Don't let it rattle you. That's what they want.
You probably got a price on your head, but no one's gonna take the contract.
Fucking price on my head?
There's a standing bounty of 350,000 US on any DEA down here,
but you're safe... because of Kiki.
The "Kiki" Peña was referring to
was Kiki Camarena, a DEA agent who went after the Guadalajara cartel in Mexico.
Kiki was captured and tortured.
They skinned his legs, put a bullet in each limb,
used an electric drill on his head until he died.
What the fuck were they thinking?
They could kill an American government agent and get away with it?
Uncle Sam doesn't fuck around. The cocksuckers paid in blood.
They went after them so hard, every single narco in the world
got the message that the DEA is off-limits.
Kiki was like Jesus Christ to us.
He died to save us all.
Do not tell Connie that story.
I won't.
- But you shouldn't forget it either. - Why?
This cat is DEA.
Mark my words, it will get justice.
Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.addic7ed.com
Uh-huh.
A PAISA ROBIN HOOD
A drug dealer running for president. It was crazy, right?
Well, not in Colombia. Not in the mid-'80s.
As far as Colombians go, Pablo wasn't a drug dealer at all.
He was a fucking winner.
The living embodiment of the Colombian dream.
The guy who'd buy houses for the poor in exchange for nothing.
As far as Pablo could tell, the doors to political success were there...
and all he had to do was to get to them.
And in order to do that,
he asked Valeria Velez to introduce him to Fernando Duque.
Duque was a lawyer and a lobbyist who represented the New Liberals,
a party who claimed to represent the people.
And just like that... an honest man blinked.
You're not going back to that comuna!
What, you want me to stay in this apartment for the next two years?
Oh, my God, you do.
Honey, your cat was killed as a warning to me.
Our cat.
OK, our cat.
What if you went back to Miami just for a little while until things quiet down?
- Oh, you're gonna make them quiet down? - You're that good, huh?
I'll tell you what. I'll agree to go back to Miami if you agree to go back, too.
- You prepared to do that? - I'm not giving in on this one!
OK. I'll be waiting to take you home.
I already stick out like a sore thumb.
The bodyguards are only gonna draw more attention.
Just humor me.
I can't do my job if I'm worried about your safety.
Mm...
Hey, mind parking down the street a little?
I'll scream if I need you.
- Buenos días, Father. - Connie.
What, are you surprised to see me?
We've had American volunteers. They come and go.
Well, this one will keep coming.
Surprised to see Elisa, a communist M-19 guerrilla,
working in the comuna?
That's because you don't know the liberation church in Colombia.
And the priest... innocent, right?
Wrong. He's more of a commie than she is.
- What's he saying? - I'm telling him about the cat.
No hablo español. I don't know what you're saying.
- What is he saying? - They don't like cats in this country.
Tell me about it.
- Is that a D-103? - Yup.
Let me get this straight. Gotta pay this cop off for information,
- then you gotta get a receipt? - I gotta get reimbursed.
Yeah, you guys stalled me at the airport
so you could take my passport and copy and scan it, didn't you?
According to CNP wiretaps, the sicario "Poison"
was recorded saying he was driving to Bogotá this afternoon.
For what purpose, we don't know.
But if we don't respond to the obvious threat to Agent Murphy,
we're sending the wrong message.
Police have the information, then they should make the arrest.
No. No, if we leave it to them, someone will sell us out.
The narcos have informants in their department.
What Peña's driving at is that Major Carrillo should man a roadblock.
- We can trust Carrillo. - I don't have authority
- over the Colombian police. - All due respect, Ambassador,
but you know where we are.
With enough money, you can get anything done.
Excuse me for saying so... but this isn't much of a roadblock, is it?
Well, if the roadblock is too obvious,
Pablo can be tipped off by a cop or by a passerby, who knows.
Can anybody in this country keep a secret?
I've got a spotter set up about four kilometers away.
He's gonna let us know when Poison passes.
You're gonna question them, right? Because we need to--
Poison's killed three of my men already.
If I catch him alive, you guys can question him here.
Then you guys gotta go.
OK. We have visual confirmation. Four kilometers away.
OK!
I'm calling this off. Nobody's coming.
- What the fuck has happened here? - Maybe Poison spotted the spotter.
Either that or Suárez sold you out.
Yeah, if he did, he must've had a better offer,
and it wasn't a fucking cat.
To avoid suspicion and questioning about his fortune,
Pablo ran as an alternate for Jairo Ortega,
a former congressman from Antioquia.
It was the first time an alternate was more important than the main candidate.
Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!
Shh.
Pablo held most of his campaign rallies
in the poorest neighborhoods of his electoral district.
He placed himself on the side of the poor and the weak
in the fight against the oligarchs, "The Men of Always."
And just like any politician, he made plenty of promises.
Only difference was Pablo had the men and the money to back them up.
It was becoming clear to everyone that Pablo was gonna win.
Pablo! Pablo!
The only question remaining was... what to do about that.
Gustavo made good on his promise to quit the labs,
so Pablo put Carlos Lehder in charge.
With characteristic German efficiency, he turned the labs into Nazilandia,
and production rose 12 percent in just two short months.
Gacha and the Ochoas adopted a wait-and-see attitude,
debating how and when Pablo would dispose of Jairo Ortega,
his front man, once the election was over.
As for us, we were kind of divided.
We cannot have Colombia become a narco state.
We need to find someone who can prove this guy is a drug dealer.
Let's stop his campaign before it starts.
No one will go on record.
I got a better idea.
We let him win.
If we put him in the spotlight and prove he's a trafficker,
the embarrassment alone might get this country off its ass.
But first, we had to get proof
that Pablo was the drug dealer we knew he was.
So we went to Suárez,
and gave him a lot of money.
First, he told us that Pablo was arrested for trafficking back in '76,
and then he gave us the name of a sergeant who could give us the files.
Problem was, Suárez was on both the DEA and the narcos' payroll.
Then Suárez gave us the name of the journalist
who reported the arrest...
...and then the lawyer who defended Pablo...
and finally, the judge who signed Pablo's arrest warrant.
We were like the Bermuda Triangle.
You get too close to us, you disappear.
We gotta get something on this motherfucker.
If he was arrested, there's gotta be a mug shot.
Yeah, well, the file's gone.
If there was a mug shot, then it's gone, too.
If there was a photo, there's a negative.
Finally, it dawned on us.
We had to find someone without Suárez's help,
and that was the photographer who had taken Pablo's mug shot years ago.
We got his negatives, and for safekeeping, we put him into witness protection.
- How long have you had this picture? - That's classified.
And what am I doing here?
It's not America's role to get involved in other countries' elections.
Once again, the hand of the United States remains invisible.
Your party took money from Escobar.
I should think you'd want to get ahead of this.
Everyone took money.
By the way, it's all American money, so why don't you take this to the press?
It should come from you. You're the Minister of Justice.
Come election day, sure enough, it was a landslide.
The New Liberal party had the candidate
who got the most votes in all of Antioquia...
and his name was Jairo Ortega.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Imagine you were born in a poor family,
in a poor city, in a poor country,
and by the time you were 28 years old,
you have so much money you can't even count it.
What do you do?
You make your dreams come true.
Problem is, nobody can control the dreams they have.
Especially if you were Pablo Escobar.
Especially if you grew up in Colombia.
There's a reason magical realism was born in Colombia.
It's a country where dreams and reality are conflated...
where, in their heads, people fly as high as Icarus.
But even magical realism has its limits.
And when you get too close to the sun...
your dreams may melt away.
Pablo and his lawyers went on the offense,
trying to smear Lara with accusations.
But Lara wouldn't back down.
He denounced narcos at every opportunity,
going after the guys that we hadn't been able to touch.
He revealed that six of the country's nine soccer teams
were owned by drug traffickers.
Gacha the Mexican was forced to give up ownership of his team,
aptly nicknamed "The Millionaires."
Lara denied flying permits for 57 planes in the Ochoa fleet.
He even fined Pablo for illegal importation
of elephants and camels from Africa.
And with the action of one brave man,
Pablo knew his dream of presidency was over.
Rodrigo Lara became the most important political figure in Colombia
with his stand against the narcos.
He just wouldn't stop going after them.
His bravery in the face of danger made him the most wanted man in the country.
For his own safety, he was appointed Colombian ambassador to Czechoslovakia.
He was slated to leave in two weeks, but a lot could happen in two weeks.
I think it might be a good idea for you to wear this until you leave.
You feel responsible, is that it?
Somewhat, yes, sir.
Are you so arrogant to think you had any influence over my actions?
That I put my life and the life of my family at risk
for American policy objectives?
Let me assure you, Agent Murphy, outside of providing me with the picture,
you... did nothing.
The decision to speak out was solely mine.
And I highly advise you to wear this vest, sir.
I will accept this vest... out of respect for your concern with my well-being.
But I would advise you one thing while you remain in Colombia.
And what is that?
We accept your help, but never your condescension.
When all this is over, Colombians will be the heroes, and the victims.
John Wayne only exists in Hollywood.
Just wear the vest.
He didn't wear it.
Wouldn't have made a difference.
Our strategy had gotten a good man killed.
It was the first time I'd felt guilty about my job.
- As for Suárez... - Hey.
...he made so much money playing both sides,
he decided to lift our spirits by giving the DEA a token of his appreciation.