Narcos: Mexico (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #4.1 - full transcript

I'm going to tell you a story.

But I'll be honest,
it doesn't have a happy ending.

In fact, it doesn't have
an ending at all.

It's about how a bunch of institutions,

some you're supposed to trust,

got together and started a war.

Not the kind of war you're thinking of...

the kind with tanks
and planes and parades and shit.

I'm talking about a drug war.

The kind that's easy
to forget is happening...

until you realize
in the last 30 years in Mexico



it's killed half a million people...

...and counting.

Now, a lot of people
don't want to hear this story.

They want to pretend it never happened.

But fuck that.

It happened.

Look, I can't tell you
how the drug war ends.

Man, I can't even tell you if it ends.

But I can tell you how it began.

Or at least when we realized
we were in it.

Sometimes you need somebody
to wake you the fuck up

and tell you the shooting has started.

In this story...

that guy's name is Kiki Camarena.



Do you smoke pot?

I guess it's okay if you do.
There are laws now that say it's cool.

I don't agree with them.
But it's not up to me.

They say it's a gateway drug. And it is.

It sure is in this story.

If you smoked pot in the late '70s,
whether you know it or not,

that pot probably started life
in the same place our story begins...

Sinaloa.

The third leg of what
they call the Mexican Golden Triangle,

the birthplace of Mexican dope smuggling,

and the guys who would go on
to run the game.

With its fertile fields and hills heavy
with opium poppies and Mexican marijuana,

to potheads and the Sinaloan scumbags
who operated there,

it was a regular Garden of Eden.

Over there.

How's it going?

How are things in the land of the future?

Laugh now, but the future finds us all.
Even here in Sinaloa.

Look, my newest student.
This is the real future, you'll see.

Okay, princess. Is this ready to harvest?

No. Too young. At least another week.

What do you think?

She's right.

He was my student, but would you believe,
now he plays with weeds in greenhouses.

You're like a florist.

Hey, you're gonna be late!

- Go on.
- Go on, Princess.

- You guys heard her.
- Come on.

- Yes, sir.
- One more week before picking.

And what are you doing around here?
Did you come out for some fresh air?

The new batch needs to breathe.

Hoping to borrow an exhaust fan.

Go, Rafa!

Andrea!

Tell them to ring the bell!

But nothing golden can stay, man.

When the government
in Mexico City figured out

that a bunch of Sinaloan farmers were
getting rich shipping their dope up north,

they decided to do something about it.

They called it Operation Condor.

It was the code name for
the government's invasion of Sinaloa...

a search and destroy mission designed
to turn the drug trade into ashes.

The army's goal was to burn every field
they could find, arrest every trafficker,

and remind the people living there
who was boss.

Carefully! Carefully!

To the left. Let's go!

WELCOME TO BADIRAGUATO

We are the national army.

We're here to liberate you
from the traffickers of Sinaloa

who have acted in defiance of
the federal government for too long.

Come out with your hands in the air,
or we will enter by force.

- Get out there, Rafa!
- They'll kill me if I do.

They'll kill us all if you don't.

On my signal,
I want you to shoot at the door.

I just want them to know we're here. Okay?

Good job, Commander.

I'll get him out. The man
you're looking for is Rafa Quintero.

Wait! Who the fuck are you?

- Who am I?
- Yes. Who are you?

Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo.
Sinaloa State Police. At your service.

And do you realize that we're
in the middle of an operation?

Come on, Commander. It's a church.

There are children in there.
There are women.

You hardly need to make such a fuss
to get a single man, right?

Let me get him out.
Everyone here knows me. Wait.

Father, I'm coming in.

Okay. If he doesn't come out
in 30 seconds,

I want everyone to start shooting.

There you go, fucker.

There you have him...
Rafael Caro Quintero.

An illiterate moron
who works for Pedro Avilés,

the biggest drug dealer in Sinaloa.

The government has sent the army now.

Now you're really fucked.

I want you to tell the gentleman here

the location of the fields
they haven't burned.

I don't know what the fuck
you're talking about...

All right, let's try that again.

Where the fuck are the fields
they haven't burned?

I don't know!

Pay attention, moron.

Where are the Tameapa fields
they haven't burned?

Up there, sir! Up there!

On the other side of the hill,
two kilometers past the river.

Never met a Sinaloan cop like you.

- What do you say? Can I take him?
- Of course.

We still have a lot more fields to burn.

Gentlemen! Let's go!

There! Hey! Stay calm.

There you go.

Look at what
these fucking assholes have done.

Be quiet.

Don't get out.

Hey, it's me. I'm going to open the door.

Dad!

How's it going, son? Are you okay?

We heard them ripping the place apart.

They came back.

Just like you said they would.
As if you'd planned it.

My love, predicting is not planning.

You all right?

Did you protect your mom?

We tried, but we were scared.

Hey, you don't have to be afraid.

- Okay.
- All right.

Uncle!

Sweetie.

You didn't stay in the car.

Starting to hurt.
They're cutting off my circulation.

Do you see what they did to my greenhouse?

They didn't take all of it.

Well, that should be enough.

I always said you were the brains
in this house, Maria.

Get inside. They're gonna see you.

Go on, go inside with him!

Go on, go with your uncle.

- You hit me really hard, asshole.
- Don't be a crybaby.

I considered letting them
take all of it...

buy ourselves another couple of months.

No.

If we don't do it now,
nothing is going to change.

I know.

But I've already told you...

if you want me to stop, I'll stop.

That's why I could never ask it of you.

I think you also predicted that,
you bastard.

All right.

Military intervention
never works the way you want it to.

In fact, it usually backfires.

Drug dealers are like cockroaches.
You can poison them, step on them...

fuck, you can set them on fire,
but they'll always come back...

usually stronger than ever.

Any time you think you've knocked out
the dope business,

a smart trafficker, well,
he'll just find a better way.

Half the state is still smoldering.

Mexico City's never cared about us.

They only care about showing the Americans
they can control the marijuana business.

Yes.

But with crisis... comes opportunity.
Right?

- You taught me that, Governor.
- And risk.

I taught you that too.

I came to thank you for everything
you've done for my family.

You had as much to do
with raising Rodolfo as I did.

Could've had a real career
in law enforcement, Miguel.

Head of state police, if you wanted.

Might've even changed things around here.

Maybe, right?

But no...
you never wanted to change things.

Never wanted something bigger, right?

A Sinaloan president?

No.

Have to make a lot of noise
to change things.

I'm not one for noise.

I'll tell Rodolfo you came by.

- He'll be sorry he missed you.
- Yeah.

Whatever you're planning, be careful.

Yes.

All right, Governor. Thank you.

It's like
four o'clock in the morning, right?

And I'm coming up from Long Beach
with a bunch of vatos.

Then all of a sudden...

Fucking shit, bro. Fuck.

I get pulled over and this dude
is just eyeing me, right?

And I'm looking at him back and he's like,
"Can I get your driver's license?"

I got five pounds in the trunk
and he's fucking gonna stop me

for a fucking taillight?

So, anyway, I look over my shoulder,
and my boy Diaz, you know, he's like this.

He's got the gun pinned against the door,
right? Oof. He's not gonna go back.

If this guy asks me to pop the trunk,
I'm gonna blow his fucking head off.

But all of a sudden, there's...

Fucking radio chirps.
"Robbery in progress. Blah, blah, blah."

He comes back and he looks at me
and he says, "Hey, you know what?

It's your lucky day.
Fix that fucking taillight."

And I'm thinking to myself,
"My lucky day?"

Crazy, bro.

Hey, so what's up? We gonna do this?

A fucking quarter?

Are you serious?

Sample only.

Like what you see, we talk next time.
I set you up with more.

What I want to see is a hundred.

That's not how I work, vato.
Like I said, I'll start you on a sample.

Something you could've bought
off the street, right?

If you want to start me off with a sample,
you take me to your warehouse,

you pull out a bale,
and I take my sample from that.

- What warehouse? I don't fucking know you.
- Chuy's making the fucking introduction!

Thought you had this lined up.

- You're wasting my time with this clown.
- Listen to me, puto...

- He's making the fucking introduction!
- Hey! Chill! Chill! Chill!

Yo, he didn't get that shit off
the street, man. I can speak for that.

All right.

I didn't come here
for a fucking sample. All right?

I came here for a supplier.
Is that gonna be you?

You know what? You're kind of pushy,
homes. Yeah?

So why don't you take a hit?
Chill the fuck out.

You know what?

I'm on parole, so I ain't hitting shit.

You and your little fucking story.
What is it? Some kind of cover, puto?

What, you got your cop buddies
listening in right now?

Look, motherfucker,
I don't like being called a fucking liar.

And worse...

a fucking cop.

What's he doing?

Jesus! Fuck.

Hey, whoever's listening,
they can't hear us right now.

- Hey...
- No, no, no.

- What the fuck?
- Did he just pull out a gun?

See that? Point it at my head.

Point it at me. Point it at me!

- Hey, you're fucking crazy, man.
- Go like this.

Yeah, yeah. There you go.

You'd know what would work better?
Like that.

- Guys, relax. Give it a second.
- Gotta get him out of there. Come on.

Can't hear a fucking thing!

If I was a fucking cop
and I had a gun pointed to my head,

they'd be rushing through that fucking
door and blowing you motherfuckers away.

Get him the fuck out of there!

That was crazy, fucker, eh?

- I told you.
- It was funny though.

- Get him a beer.
- I hear you, bro.

- I'm on parole too.
- Yeah.

- It's a bitch, you know?
- Fucking bitch, bro.

"Pull it, pull it." You're fucking crazy.

I like you, puto. I like you.

Oh.

Yeah, yo. So listen.

So it's like this, homie.

I got a shipment landing next week.

- So once it gets here...
- Right.

...you come to my spot, and then you can
feel all the bales you want, carnal.

- All right.
- All right. Cheers.

I'm gonna take that quarter
so my homies can get your...

samples.

Fresno P.D.!

Fresno P.D.? What the fuck?

Stay down! Turn around! Get the fuck down!
Against the wall! Now!

- Shit.
- Fuck!

- Hang tight. Can we move in on this?
- Fuck!

- Hey, I'm DEA, all right?
- Yeah? And I'm fucking Olivia Newton-John.

Shut the fuck up, chico.

Hey, you ever hear of a DEA?

Yeah, it's like...
Drug Enforcement Agency or something.

- Administration.
- Yeah.

Chico over here keeps saying
he's working undercover for them.

Looks like we picked up
a whole team of undercovers.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! That's one of my guys.

Shit. Are you serious?

- Yes.
- He's with you?

Yeah, that's my partner.
And if it wasn't for you guys,

we'd be taking down
a hundred fucking pounds next week!

Well, nothing personal, buddy.

Just tough telling the good hombres
from the bad sometimes.

No, I get it.

Oh!

Nowadays, you say you're a DEA agent,

you're gonna get some respect.

But back then,
people didn't know what to make of them.

They'd only been around
for a couple of years.

And compared to our better-known
federal agencies, the FBI and the CIA,

they were nobodies.

In fact, in 1980,
there were more women in the NYPD

than there were agents
in the entire DEA.

The headquarters in D.C.
sat on top of a fucking strip club.

And even though they didn't need
a reminder they came in last

in the law enforcement pecking order,
they got one pretty regularly.

It was a rough one out there.

With all due respect, sir,
it was like working with amateurs.

Like six months of undercover work
down the drain because of those guys.

You don't think to inform
local law enforcement

that you're running an op
in their backyard?

It was only an introduction.
There was no threat.

- There was no need for local P.D.
- Kiki, you had a gun at your head.

Sir, it... it's more complicated than that.
You read it, sir.

Fuck it.

One more scumbag off the street.

Um...

Has a decision been made
about my transfer, sir?

Didn't go your way.

Yeah.

All right.

Who did they give Miami to?

Was it Collins?

- O'Brian?
- Does it matter?

No, just tell me. I can take it.

Just tell me.

Kershaw?

Yeah.

I didn't know he put in for it.

What am I always telling you?
Attitude and experience are factors.

Kershaw has both.

I got attitude! Want more attitude?
I'll give you more attitude.

Your time will come.

Five years on post here isn't enough, sir?

What other post is available, sir?

What do you have?

- Guadalajara?
- That's all that was available.

If I stay here,
my career's just gonna die.

I'm serious.
No, no, I mean... You know what?

If you don't move on,
you don't move up. That's the way.

That from the handbook?

What do you want me to say, Kiki?
It's not Miami.

Miami. Fucking Kershaw. I swear.
It's fucking bullshit.

Dunn's a fucking asshole.

Five years for what?

I'll stop. I'll stop.

- Kikito's about to bat.
- All right.

All right, let's go, Kikito.
Just like I said.

Keep your eye on the ball and swing
through it, okay? Hey!

Keep it simple. Remember, remember,
from the ground up, rotate, release,

and keep your eye on the ball. Let's go.

Whoa!

That's not how we practiced.

That's your dad's genes at work
right there.

- Good contact, Kikito!
- Yeah, good contact.

Nice hit!

I mean, we could always move back
to Calexico.

I got a better idea. Why don't you quit?
Fuck it. Become a fireman again.

No, I can do other things.

I can do other things.

Sure you can, honey.

- Nervous?
- Yes.

It's time.

Yes, it's time.

It's time you buy some new clothes, man.

Hello, Joaquin.

Are you coming in?

No. I'm just the farmer.
That part's on you.

All right.

Don't you fuck with me!

Six fucking months!

We need to replant everything again.

That's the thing.
We lost everything, boss.

The entire damn field.

And what were you doing
while they burned my fields?

He lost an eye, Pedro.

Yeah, I see that.
Thank you for your sacrifice, Hector.

But the rest of you?

I see a lot of
two-eyed motherfuckers in here!

What the fuck did any of you do?

Go to Durango.

Tell Gomez to sell us whatever he's got.

- It might be enough to hold us over.
- Done.

Excuse me, boss.

If you'll allow me...

I have an idea to solve this for good.

Well, fuck. Didn't this guy
used to babysit the governor's kid?

Could have gotten a heads-up from him.

He's the governor of Sinaloa.
They don't tell him shit.

With all due respect, boss,

but the army burns our fields,
and what do we do?

We buy Durango weed
and hope to stay alive, really? Again?

We'll end up the same or
even more screwed when they come back.

We have to restart
the business somewhere else.

Where they can't touch us.
Where they wouldn't even try.

We have to go to Guadalajara.

We're nobodies there.

We're nobodies here, Don Neto.

The army invades us, and what?

No fucking journalists
will write about it.

They do this because we are Sinaloans.

We're fucked. Nothing happens here.

Things are different there.

There are banks there,
big businesses, and fancy people.

I'd like to see the government
send the army there.

It would be a huge mess.
Front-page news and all that shit.

I say it's the only way.
But whatever you say, boss.

What does this fucker know?

He's not a trafficker.

- He's a cop.
- Ex-cop.

Even worse.

Let's see... Guadalajara
is still run by the Naranjo brothers.

Think those fucking animals are gonna
let us move into their territory, Pedro?

You are the Lion of Sinaloa.

The guy who invented the game.

They'd be fools not to negotiate.

They're going to laugh at us.

No one fucking laughs at me.

Go to Guadalajara.

Sit down with them.

If you can't make a deal...

it's on you.

Sounds good.

I just ask that you send someone with me,
to lend me credibility.

He's right about that.

- Who do you have in mind?
- Don Neto would do.

Well, shit.

Fast ball here, but you'd never know

the way Horton's got the slider working.

He could be bringing that
on three and two.

Two outs here in the seventh.
Still tied at two.

Lafayette led two-nothing
most of the game

until Ramirez's two-run double
tied it up in a hurry.

How many more you gonna have?

I don't know.
I mean, that's only my sixth one.

...for four weeks earlier
in the year with a bad elbow.

Pitching coach...

Apparently, he was uploading
a fraction of a second early...

I'd have my own, but I wouldn't want her
to turn out like you.

Yeah, nobody wants that.

He's been stellar all year.

Absolutely.
There's the wind-up and the pitch.

Little flare up the right side.
Danny can't get it...

Why are you looking at me like that?

I think you know.

I don't.

I don't want to stay in Fresno.

You're tired of the same. I am too.

So let's change it.

Together.

Show them what they're not seeing.

You sure you want that?

Don't you?

Take Mexico, Kiki. Prove them wrong.

What about you?

I have to check, but I'm pretty sure
women give birth in Mexico too.

Right.

Passports.

Welcome to Mexico.

I brought those for all of us.

Take the ones I didn't take for myself.

You must think you're pretty smart,

kissing Pedro's ass
to get him to back you.

Let me explain how this shit works.

These guys, the Naranjo brothers,
they're the competition.

They don't give a shit
about the "Lion of Sinaloa."

And they certainly
don't give a shit about you.

I'm treating this like a vacation to
Guadalajara. Gonna have a lot of fun.

I ain't part of your plan.

I'll get you a meeting and then
I'll sit back and watch you go down.

Got it?

Yeah, got it.

And another thing...

that ass-kissing shit? It cuts both ways.

You embarrass Pedro, make him look weak,
he'll blow holes in you.

That goes for you too, cupcake.

Go ahead.

What's going on?

Rafa!

Once you finish,
go straight to the hotel, okay?

- Okay.
- Brother...

this is serious.

Okay.

Is he looking
for vocational guidance or what?

SCHOOL OF GEOLOGY

I'm getting a drink.

Located on San Pedro Street.

Yes.

Mm-hmm.

Yes.

Perfect.

Yes, sir. You're welcome.

Do you have two rooms?

How long is your stay?

Well, indefinitely.

Don Neto.

I was surprised to hear you were in town.

It was an unplanned trip.

Babysitting this one.

How's your brother?

All good.

I heard about the army.

They burned the goods again, right?

Too bad.

But if you want to kill rats,
guess you have to go into the sewer.

- Right?
- Yes.

Yes, of course.

Anyway, like I said,
I'm here to introduce you to this guy.

He's got a proposal for you.

- A proposal? How nice.
- Yes.

Let's hear it then.

After that mess
that happened in Sinaloa...

an opportunity was born
for our organizations.

We're looking for a partnership.

- Partnership?
- Yes.

Well, now I'm interested.

It's very easy.

Basically, we move
our growing operation here.

We move to Guadalajara.

And all we need from you
is police protection.

Uh-huh.

We take care of everything, the labor,
the distribution, all of the costs.

And we're willing
to split the profits 50/50.

Okay.

I mean, we're... we're the best suited
to make this thing grow.

Well, look at this fucker.

How about this?
We split the profits 60/40.

No, wait... 70/30.

No... 80/20?

No... 90/10.

Here's my final offer.

You get nothing
and get out of my fucking town.

Partners?

Is this fucking guy serious?

You guys have a lot of fine pussy
in Sinaloa, right?

Well, since everyone is going to starve,
why don't you send us the best you got?

We'll find work for them here.

Tell the Lion that we're laughing at him
in Guadalajara.

"Partnership."

You know what?
I have another proposal for you.

Oh, really?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Did you go crazy, motherfucker?

Any minute now, this place is gonna be
crawling with cops, their cops,

who are gonna drive us straight
to his brother to burn us alive.

Rafa.

Come on.

You're crazy. Fuck you both.

Come on. Show me.

Come on, show it to me.

I spoke to the geologist. He said that...

Here.

- Seriously?
- It's closer than we thought.

We just have to dig.

Hey... stick to the plan.

Hi, I'm Kiki Camarena.
I'm looking for a Jaime Kuykendall.

Mr. Kuykendall is in the back
waiting for you.

Thank you.

Agent Camarena.

- Yes, sir.
- Jaime. Jaime Kuykendall.

Nice to meet you.

- Welcome to Guadalajara.
- Thank you, sir.

Come on back.

So how was the trip down?

It was a little long, sir.

Having a six-year-old in the back
didn't help.

But I look forward to getting started.

I take it you speak Spanish?

Well, the tan isn't
from the sun. I was born this way.

Well, how did that
play with the boys up in Fresno?

Uh...

Like you might expect, sir.

My wife is from Chiapas.
But we like it better here.

Yeah, I think you will too.

I mean, the truth is, this office
has been needing someone like you.

Don't get me wrong. Agents Knapp
and Sears, they're strong agents,

but ethnicity poses its limitations
on the locals here.

Sure, yeah. No, I'd imagine

that the informants
probably feel a little safer

- talking corruption to a fellow Mexican.
- So you get how Mexico works.

Uh, well, my grandmother's
from Guadalajara

and I used to spend
a lot of time here as a kid.

Well, the Mex-Feds are crooked as hell,
but they're what we got.

You know, we work with them best we can.

- We try to, anyway.
- Right.

Uh, sir, is there a case
that you want me to jump on?

It may serve you better
to think about this as more of a, uh...

a data-gathering assignment

rather than a traditional
law enforcement posting.

You know, we can't arrest anyone.

We don't have that power.

We just gather intelligence best we can,
and send it on to the agents up north.

Ah.

Like a neighborhood watch.

We do the best we can.

No, I understand, sir. Sorry.
I understand, like, you know...

If data gathering is what you do,
then, uh, I'm all in, sir.

Good. All right.
So we hit the Camelot around 5:00.

That's the bar across the street.
You should join us.

I mean, you've seen the desert.
It's time to meet the snakes.

Federal Security Directorate!
On your feet!

I want to see your hands! Hands!

Hello.

Don't do anything stupid.

Search them.

Let's go.

We found this fat fuck headed out of town.

They're going to kill us
and it's your fault, asshole.

Let's go. Stop talking. Let's go.

I'm a cop, too.

At least I was.

State police.

I used to patrol the fields at night
back in Sinaloa.

One night, I found a man clipping buds
from the stalks back in the fields.

Poor bastard.

Stealing from men
who don't know how to forgive...

just like you.

They asked me to kill him
and "make him disappear."

Do you know what I did?

I drove him out to the edge
of the desert...

I pulled him out of the car,
and told him to run.

I told him to go straight
until the sun rose.

That man... was the brother of a cop.

He was just starting out.

They called him "El Azul."

But I think you call him
something else, no?

I think you call him "Commander."

Take me to him.

Or we'll see
if you don't end up just like me.

We got two whiskeys,
threeCuba libres, and cinco cervezas.

So you just buy them drinks all night
and hope they give you something?

Drunker they get, the more they spill.

Look, nobody talks more shit
than a drunk Mexican cop.

I got it.

You're new here, right?

Just got here.

Welcome to Guadalajara.

Are you on duty?

Everyone here is on duty. Look.

- Kiki Camarena.
- Sammy Álvarez.

- These guys all cops?
- Yeah.

The ones in uniform,
those are the Guadalajara municipal cops.

In other words, local shit.

The ones in blue are
from the Jalisco State Police.

The one over here is my captain.

And the judicial police?

The two tables in the back, the federales.

The one talking to your boss,
that's Commander Rojas.

And the one next to him
is Commander Mendez.

You guys like to buy drinks, eh?

That's the American way.

- Do you want one?
- Sure, I'll take the same.

Commander.

Commander.

Good evening, everyone.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Tomás.

Who are your friends?

This is the guy who saved
your brother's life back in Sinaloa.

Thought maybe you'd want to talk to him
before we kill him, boss.

What a good idea.

Except I don't have a brother,
you fucking idiot.

We're here to make you a proposal.

This is their deal, I'm not with them.
Just to make it clear.

Yeah, they told me you had a proposal.

I heard you had a meeting with
Hernin Naranjo. And it didn't go well.

My deal is only for you.
It was never for the Naranjos.

My offer is in that bag.

It's our new strain. It's much stronger
than the shit you have here.

Jesus! Give me one of our kilos.

They both weigh the same. How?

Tell him, bro.

Well, I bred out the male strain.

The males would cross pollinate the female
and so... there's no seeds.

Your dope's filled with stems, seeds,
shit you can't smoke.

So it takes up less space.

We can transport much more
using the same number of trucks.

I'm looking for a partner.

I'm offering 50 percent.
What do you think?

- And what do you call this?
- What do we call it?

Seedless.

Where are the fuckers?

These are the motherfuckers
who killed my brother?

- Calm down.
- No, fuck that!

Want to explain to me why
this fucking guy's still breathing?

These sons of bitches die right now!

Put the gun down.

Lower it.

This fucking guy just killed my brother!

You'll have to excuse me.

But I've gotta look after my partners.

Go get them! Tomás, take care of it.

And you...

didn't you say you aren't with these guys?

Wait, wait, wait. He's with us.

- It was just a joke.
- Yeah.

He was dragging his feet.

That's good.

I want my money every month.

I figure it'll take a little while...
for it to grow.

Yeah.

All right.

First month is courtesy of the Naranjos.

It's a pleasure.

My uncle is
from the Jalisco State Police.

One day, he calls me
and tells me to go to his house.

And to bring some money.
And he starts to count it.

Bah, bah, bah.

All of a sudden...
he says that I am now a cop too.

I suppose I was helping someone
get out of trouble,

and in exchange, he got me a job.

At least you have a job, right?

He takes ten percent of what I make.

What a nice guy, your uncle.

Who are they?

The boogeyman.

Three whiskies.

Thank you.

Those boys are DFS.

Federal Security Directorate.

They're kind of like the KGB
and the Gestapo all rolled into one.

Ah.

- Guess we're not buying them drinks.
- No.

No, they get theirs from the CIA.

Yeah. We steer clear of them,
they do the same for us.

That's just kind of the deal.

Right. No, I get it.

Not our ballgame.
We just provide the refreshments.

You learn quick.

Hey, could you hand me one?

Sure.

Thank you.

You've got blood on your shoes.

This is it.

It's a desert.

But there's a lot of water underneath.

Enough to grow all the dope
the U.S. can smoke in a year.

You learn that at college?

Hey.

That true? What he said back there?
Did he create that shit?

Yes. It's his baby.

Well, then he's a genius!

That's why you brought him.

We're starting
to understand each other, Don Neto.

If you guys had that magic weed,
why not plant it back home?

It can't be done.
It can't grow near any other dope.

The strain would be contaminated.

For these fuckers to grow...
they have to be alone.

And Avilés?

What's he going to think
about all of this?

I don't know. What do you think?

Being the biggest trafficker in Mexico?

I think he'll like it.

He seems like that sort of guy.

And why me?

I've got a plan.

I don't doubt it.

Either way, you're still fucking crazy.

But maybe you know more
about this business than I thought.

No, I'm not interested in your business.

What I'm doing here...
is building an empire.