If Gaviria'd let us put US boots on the ground,
we would've caught the son of a bitch in five minutes.
I wouldn't be too sure about that. Escobar is a lot smarter than he looks.
- Shit. - Hold on, hold on!
We picked up a signal in the woods surrounding the target area.
Yeah, don't count your chickens just yet.
We have a tracking signal on the phone presumed to be Escobar's,
five clicks from the finca.
Request Colombian units to be sent ASAP.
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I know.
He got away.
Again.
- Shh. - You hear what I said?
Come on.
Yeah, I'm a little preoccupied, Steve.
I think she's got colic.
What is that?
Well, it means she can't sleep, which means neither can I.
Did you call the orphanages?
You think I could explain the situation in English, let alone Spanish?
I still don't understand why you brought her back here.
Well, let's take her to a hospital.
No, Steve, we can't just take her to a hospital. It's not like a puppy shelter.
Look, I know you're busy, but we've gotta figure out what we're gonna do with her.
There's a war going on, Connie.
You said it was only gonna be for a couple of days.
It's already been a week. What are we doing here?
- Is that my t-shirt? - We're out of diapers.
Why don't you go get some more before she shits through your whole closet?
Gaviria could easier cut a hundred deals with the devil
before he could cut one with Pablo.
Bowing to Pablo's demands was political suicide.
So, he did what politicians do best: he stalled.
He kept our planes in the air and prayed to God that we got a hit.
Ground units, begin trilateration for signal origin.
And when we did, it was not the hit that we were hoping for.
Who would've thought a failed raid would result in Escobar's biggest victory?
Pablo didn't even have to pull the trigger. We did it for him.
Guys, we have a problem.
For the battle-fatigued citizens of Colombia,
Diana's death was the final straw.
This wasn't just an oligarch dying.
Her presence on the nation's TV screens and in their homes transcended class.
The people were devastated.
For President Gaviria, there was little room left to move.
If your Congress abolishes extradition, we lose our teeth.
- We're a paper fucking tiger! - Everything we have done is lost.
We have no choice.
The people, the public... it's tired of all these bombs and bloodshed!
Right, and business goes as usual,
- he just runs it from that jail. - Exactly!
All things considered, it's a victory to put Escobar in jail.
For public relations?
It's capitulation.
You want Escobar.
Why?
Because you want to parade him in your DEA jackets?
You think this is a game, right?
This is Colombia, and our people want peace!
This is not a fucking game!
The race was on.
Pablo needed to build his jail as fast as possible.
As for his enemies, they needed to get to him before that happened.
As soon as he walked inside, Pablo would be safe.
And everyone on the outside wouldn't.
We got an official cease and desist order for any further operation
when Pablo officially surrenders.
- Search Bloc is gonna be disbanded. - We heard the terms.
- No cops within two miles of the prison. - This is a fucking sham.
It's a death warrant for my men.
I won't be able to protect them.
I won't let that happen.
There are cops that hate Escobar just as much as I do.
More.
They're not gonna stop just because they're told to.
You talking about vigilantes?
Call it what you like... but I'm still gonna need those intel reports.
- We'll get you anything we find. - Javi, you gotta cool it with that shit.
They know we've been helping. One more and we're out.
I thought you said you were all in.
- Are you OK? - Yes.
The explosion was from a car bomb on the street below,
about 800 pounds' worth of dynamite.
It made little Manuela forever deaf in one ear.
In this war,
the innocent always seemed to be the ones who got hurt.
For Escobar, the Monaco bombing told him two things:
First, it showed him that the cops weren't his biggest problem.
They would never use a bomb.
This was a new player, one that wasn't above going after his family.
Second, and the one that fucked with his head the most...
was that for the first time in his life... someone had given him up.
And worse yet, he had no idea who.
It is often said there is no honor among thieves.
That's doubly true of drug dealers.
The Ochoas, with the help of Cali, made their own surrender deal.
No extradition, no stiff sentence.
The Colombian government was willing to overlook their part
in the largest cocaine empire on the face of the earth.
Instead, they would serve reduced sentences.
- The charge?
Illegally importing bulls from Spain. I shit you not.
They went to jail with smiles on their faces,
'cause all they had to do was use their sister as bait
to catch a fish the cops actually wanted.
Gustavo.
Pablo wanted to send a message to Cali,
so he ordered his sicarios to hit them during a soccer match.
It was very effective.
He did get 14 Cali men that day.
The problem was, everyone on the soccer field was dressed the same.
By the time the sicarios spotted Pacho,
he was already running away.
Pablo had Gustavo buried in the hills of Medellin,
where the cousins had played as kids.
In his mind, losing his best friend
was a price he had to pay to defeat extradition.
So he ordered the burial to take place at the exact same time
that Congress was voting to repeal it.
Whether it was Gaviria's support, Pablo's "plata or plomo,"
or maybe people were just sick of the violence...
extradition was defeated by a landslide.
Hours after the vote, a military helicopter
was dispatched to coordinates just outside Medellin,
where Pablo was waiting.
Pena and I had to go see it with our own eyes.
A terrorist, a drug dealer and a murderer surrendering to a grateful nation
who gave him everything he asked for.
It was the closest we'd ever come to him, and we never felt further away.
Mm.
It wasn't a fucking surrender.
Pablo wasn't succumbing to justice.
He was escaping it. And all anyone could do was watch.
Once again, Escobar had used violence to bend the world to his will.
They called it "la gran mentira," "the big lie."
And it was a lie.
Except as I watched him fly away to his luxury prison...
I couldn't help but think there was some truth in it.
Damn it. Fucker.
A truth that I hadn't been willing to accept.
He'd beat us because he was willing to do what we weren't.
Bad guys don't play by the rules.
That's what makes 'em bad.
Maybe that's what lets 'em win.
I got Poison at 400 to 1700 megahertz, gentlemen.
So who do we give this to? DEA?
- Yeah. Let's give it to Javier Pena. - Pena's an asshole.
- I'm gonna give it to the other guy. - Sure.
I made a promise to myself that when the time came
that I could strike a blow against Escobar,
even if it meant breaking the rules, I was gonna do it.
- Hello? - Hey, Central Spike here.
You wanna tell me a good guy wouldn't have pushed the buttons
on these motherfuckers?
You wanna call me a bad guy?
Fine. But if you do, it just means that you haven't met enough bad guys yet
to know the difference.
There's one thing I've learned down here in Colombia,
good and bad are relative concepts.
Yesterday, I fought the devil Who they say is very brave
I hacked him with my machete so bad That even I got freaked out
I jumped back, dodging his attack
And in one fell swoop I cut off his tail
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