All language subtitles for Narcos.Mexico.S02E05.NF.WEBRip

♪ Somewhere out on that horizon ♪

♪ Out beyond the neon lights ♪

♪ I know there must be something better ♪

♪ But there's nowhere else in sight ♪

♪ It's survival in the city ♪

♪ When you live from day to day ♪

♪ City streets don't have much pity ♪

♪ When you're down
That's where you'll stay ♪

♪ In the city... ♪

♪ In the city ♪

♪ I was born here in the city ♪

♪ With my back against the wall ♪

♪ Nothing grows
And life ain't very pretty ♪

♪ No one's there
To catch you when you fall ♪

Héctor Palma has
been running Sinaloa since he left Juárez.

Amado Carrillo Fuentes was sent to Juárez
to manage Pablo Acosta.

And he does not like it.

We don't need the fucking ABC's, man.

We know half this shit.

Is that right?

Well, did you know the Sinaloans
are moving cocaine through Tijuana?

Using the Arellano Félix organization?

Or how about this?
It's not a happy marriage.

In fact, they fucking hate each other.

The Arellano Félix boys bitched
about sharing their plaza for months.

But to keep them happy,

Félix put a tax on any product
the Sinaloans move through TJ.

But these guys...

they're not the tax-paying type.

As of yesterday,
Palma told Benjamín to kiss his ass.

And now the Sinaloans

are pulling all their cocaine
out of Tijuana.

How much we talking?

It's at least three or four hundred keys.

Not moving too fast for you, am I?

So, what happens when they
don't haul their shit back to Mazatlán?

Things get interesting.

These guys are going to move
a lot of weight,

and they're going to take
a tremendous risk to do it.

It leaves you with an opportunity.

You want to take Félix Gallardo down?

Testify.

Take immunity.

You could do it from a courtroom.

You may not value my life, but I do.

How's it work?

The money from Félix?

You on a regular payroll?

Or you just take a pinch
out of the envelopes he has you deliver?

What was your name again?

You got some crew, Walt.

Must explain all your success.

Let me know if you guys find your balls.

If nothing else...

maybe you guys actually
learned something today, right?

Prick.

You asked me to listen. I did.

But I still don't like it.

You know the kind of shit
I've heard about this guy?

And now he's seen all our faces.

No ticket home
for us three if he starts talking.

Sure.

But we've seen his face too.

Félix finds out he was here...

he's dead.

So we're supposed to trust him?

Fuck, no.

We treat him like any other CI.
Trust but verify.

Dirtbag edition.

We see where it leads.

Come on.

Heath told us to wrap this shit up, right?

Maybe we put 400 keys on the table
before we go.

You know, get one real win
out of this whole fucking thing.

What's it gonna be, guys?

Your brothers' agreement
with the Sinaloans has ended.

It leaves us with an opportunity.

By using
your family's infrastructure, routes,

we piggyback our loads through customs.

And once the product clears the border?
Arrives in the States?

Then what?

We use your drivers.

And how long till that gets back
to my brothers? Just like that.

What do you have in mind, boss?

We do this? We do it right.

And we do it our way.

Work in Tijuana's hard to find.

No one knows that better than the gringos.

A recruiting agency based in San Diego
has an office in Tijuana,

which sponsors women for work visas.

The gringos place them in jobs
across the border.

They earn American wages
for cleaning hotel rooms.

Houses.

Offices.

These women cross the border on foot
every morning,

looking for a chance
to better their lives.

And the company takes advantage of that.

They pick them up,

shuttle them back at the end
of a long shift,

and in return,
take a piece of their earnings.

Company's end is 84%.

Because with 20 American dollars
in their pocket,

who's going to complain?

It's more than these women
will ever make in Mexico.

So your plan's to bribe your way
into this company?

I bought it last week.

I run the books for my brothers.

Seemed like a nice addition
to our "holdings."

Starting tomorrow,
our girls are taking home full wages.

On top of the $500 more to move our coke.

Mules.

You say these women cross daily on foot.

How much could they possibly carry?

Figure, half-a-pound a girl.

But 35,000 people cross
the San Ysidro bridge every day.

We have employed 700 of them.

That's 350 pounds...

each day.

Any other questions?

Close it.

Get in that one.

Not leaving any shit behind this time?
Goat or something?

If only you had some common sense,

just a little bit,

you would've turned that pig
into carnitas.

What a waste.

Already had as much Sinaloan shit
as we could swallow.

Bet your brother could teach you
how to swallow more hog.

What the fuck did you say?

Behave yourselves, ladies!

Good luck stuffing all that coke
into a raft. Motherfuckers.

Get some men to follow them,
make sure they leave the city.

They're moving.
Headed south on Los Higos. Over.

Copy that. We're on it.

Need to hire more fucking guys.

We're not making our quota.

Amado! The boss wants you.

Hello. Hello?

Hey! Let me know if Acosta calls back.

No, not Acosta. The boss-boss.

From Guadalajara.

But according to Amado,
we have to build.

I think about four...

Look at this guy.

Should write up a citation.

Where's your hard hat, man?

Fucks up my hair.

What's up, Félix?

Was giving him an update
on all our progress.

Things are going well.

We're doing all right.

Acosta was here all day yesterday.

Want me to get him on the phone?

I didn't come to see him.

I came here to talk to you.

- All right then.
- Good to meet you, sir.

Anything you ever need in Juárez,
let me know.

Thank you, comandante.

Great.

I always liked construction sites.

Seeing things being built.

You checking up on me, or what?

What do you think of him?

- Aguilar?
- Yeah.

He's smart, ambitious...

a real piece of shit.

But half of the cops here
owe him their jobs.

- Yeah.
- And he knows everyone, right?

Yeah.

Good, he can keep an eye on this
while you're away.

We're going on a trip.

Where the fuck to?

Panama. Let's go.

We just passed the highway entrance.

They're headed north.

The trucks are definitely
going to the border.

These dipshits are actually
gonna try to cross?

Amat, tell Ossie to pull back
and let us tag back in.

Copy that.

So you gonna tell me?
What the fuck is in Panama?

Yeah. A meeting with the Colombians.
I want you there.

Why Panama?

Neutral territory.

I made a deal with Juan Nepomuceno Guerra.
The Gulf is joining the Federation.

The old man's going to be there.

I'll explain the Colombians' future
to them.

From now on, they pay us in product.

That puts us in their business.

That's the idea.

Over the next six months,

they'll get pushed out of the retail
cocaine business in America.

The Colombians are
no longer in charge, man.

It's my turn.

What the fuck are you talking about?

If I control the path to market,

they won't have a choice.

With Matta in prison,

someone will have to take control
of transportation, right?

We will run our own fleet of planes.

You'll be in charge
of the whole operation.

You wanted to know why you're here.
There it is. Congratulations.

We'll build runways in Chiapas, Veracruz.

We refuel there,
then drop the shit off in Juárez.

Which becomes our main distribution hub.

I told you it was important.

The fucking Colombians
will work for us now.

The money coming in...

it makes us untouchable.

How long you been working on this?

My whole life.

We'll control this business,
from Bogotáto New York.

Escobar, Cali, the fucking PRI...

they will all fall in line.

This transforms us.

You ready for that?

You bet I'm ready.

Look at you.

I sometimes thought
you would back out on me.

Why would I back out?

Sir, we are about to land.

Thanks, darling.

Those guys will be at the hotel
in an hour.

The old man and his nephew
are meeting us there.

Good work.

'Mon!

What?

You okay?

You seen Ramón today?

In one of his moods.

Got a call.
They told me he was in the park again.

Ramón's not the one I worry about.
He's fine.

You should be happy we got those Sinaloans
out of the warehouse this morning.

Should've seen their faces,
packing up their shit.

Couldn't handle the tax, I guess.

- Yeah, impressive.
- Yeah.

Don't forget Mom has
that doctor's appointment at 4:00.

Make sure someone's there to take her.

You can't take her?

You have a date or something?

- Yeah, Benjamín.
- What?

That cute guy from the café
finally asked me out.

Target's stopped.
Going into another warehouse. Over.

Copy that. We're two klicks behind.

Why would you move 400 keys of cocaine

from one warehouse to another
ten miles away?

These guys are up to some dirt.

Gotta be.

All right, fellas, we'll be
on the north side of the street.

You guys find a spot and post up. Over.

Copy.

- Mr. Félix.
- Yeah.

The boss will be up shortly.

Good. I'll let my associates know.
Thank you.

Excuse me. Everybody out,
let's go. All of you.

We have to go, man.

- Let me work.
- We have to go now.

Almost done.

Don't take long.

Hey, are you done?

Almost, sir.

Never know who's listening.
Better to be certain.

Yeah.

I'm sure it is. Need to be on your toes.

It's a good spot to hide a camera.

Let's see.

All right, then.
Think you're done here.

I handle security.
This is my normal routine.

Excuse me, sir.

Good luck with your meeting.

What's your name?

Salcedo.

We're done, right?

Reception.

Connect me
to Nepomuceno Guerra's room, please.

There's no one under that name
checked into the hotel, sir.

Okay, wait.

And Juan Ábrego, do you have that name?

One moment.

We missing someone?

Looks like you were expecting company.

No. No, just us. Drink?

Guess somebody was mistaken.

Well then...

You said you had something
important to discuss.

I hope so. I had to rearrange
a lot of shit to be here.

Let's get the fuck out of here.

Right.

Well, I almost forgot.

I also have something to tell you.

We've made a deal
with one of your countrymen.

He's gonna be moving powder for us too.

He's a real old-timer.

Like fucking Al Capone or something.

Family's big in heroin,
but that's changing.

Thanks to me.

He's called...

Juan Nepomuceno Guerra.

Ever heard of him?

Yeah.

Yeah, I've heard of him.

Don't worry.
It doesn't affect our arrangement.

Far as I'm concerned,

there's room for everyone.

Mexico is a big country.

Right?

Yes.

What've you got?

We're going to need you to send us
more product.

That's why we're here.

Still having problems
keeping your people happy?

Making payroll can be tough.

How much?

As much as you can put together.

Well, let's see.

If we really tried,

in a few months, we could...

put together, say, 65,000 kilos.

That's what, 70 tons? More or less.

That's good.

That's good.

But you know the deal.

Once that shit leaves Colombia,
you're responsible.

For every gram.

Talk to your partners if you'd like,
and let me know what they decide.

No.

No, no need.

My partners and I trust each other.

We're family.

Same for you, no?

No.

I don't have partners.

That's right.

Right.

Since the Honduran got grabbed by the DEA,

you'll have to handle transportation too.
That a problem?

No problem.

You know...

Matta-Ballesteros wasn't my partner.

If he was our partner,
I'd be asking questions

about how he got busted
after all this time in the game.

He wasn't family.

So it's not my business.

But I liked him.

He was cool.

Yes.

Hmm.

Well, my partners like making money.

So this deal works out, they'll be happy.

And if it doesn't, then...

well, we'll see what happens next.

By the way, I didn't catch your name.

Amado Carrillo Fuentes.

Amado Carrillo Fuentes.

I won't forget it.

I like knowing who transports
my merchandise.

It will be a pleasure to work with you
as well, Amado.

Okay, gentlemen.

See you later.

Excuse us, gentlemen.

What the fuck, Félix?

How are we going to move that much coke?

What was I supposed to do?
There was no choice.

If we fuck up 65,000 kilos,
that's a death sentence.

Fucking Guerra, that motherfucker.

I need planes to move that amount,
and we don't have any.

Then get some, Amado.

Get them.

- Hello.
- You made a mistake today, old man.

Miguel Ángel, my boy.

You caught me with my apron on again.
I'm making supper for the little ones.

Look, as things turn out,

I decided not to go through
with the arrangement.

I know you're moving coke
for the Colombians now.

Well...

you were so convincing, I couldn't resist.

We had a fucking deal!

I wouldn't go so far as that.

Listen to me...

No, you listen to me,
Miguel Ángel.

You have high-profile problems.

And I'm a quiet man, by nature.

Any problems I have had,

I've dealt with them. You know that.

And I commend you on that, I really do,
but I have to wonder...

how long would I have lasted,

once you got what you wanted
from the Colombians?

Your partners seem to have histories

which are short and tragic, Miguel Ángel.

In the end, let's just say...

I prefer to tend my own garden.

Stop talking about my fucking partners!

You like Rome so much, right?

I'm going to nail your fat ass
onto a cross, you piece of shit!

I'm going to hang you like a pig
so that your filthy grandchildren

can watch you bleed out
in your fucking ranch!

Then I'll burn it to the ground!

Something tells me that won't happen.

Miguel Ángel...

Life...

is a long journey with a map
written by a fool.

We never know as much as we think...

do we?

Okay, so what are
the chances this plays out our way?

You giving me odds?

This doesn't play out, I'm at a desk
in Phoenix this time next week.

Fucking Phoenix, man.

So, what's the deal with those two guys?

They go way back, huh?

I've never known Walt without Sal.
I don't think I'd want to.

Well, he gave me his word
he would help me out,

put in a good word
for my brother's parole.

Can I count on him?

Walt says he's gonna
do something for you...

he will.

Got a story, or...
you care to elaborate on that?

No.

- Where is he locked up?
- Kern Valley. Near Fresno.

Twelve years for an armed robbery charge.

He do it?

Fuck, yeah. A hundred percent.

They're moving again.

You guys seeing this?

Yeah, we see it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Hold up a second.

Hey, guys, stay on those trucks.
We'll be right behind you.

Who are these guys?

I don't know. They look like
they're part of the Arellano Félix crew.

Guess they're wondering
the same thing we are.

You want to get back on those trucks?

No.

Well, what do you want to do?

I want to take a look for myself.

Tell me something good, Cochi.

How'd the brothers take it?

Any bullshit?

All good.

Fucking dogs have been on us
since we left Tijuana.

What about the other thing?

Pretty good.

Blew a fuse on the ventilator,
but it'll be all right.

All good?

Fucking hot today.

Tell me about it. Heat is a bitch.

Listen to me.

We don't need one of those workers
dying on us, man.

Of course not.

The fuck? Why haven't you fixed it?

- The fan?
- Yes, goddamn it!

Just needs an industrial cord.

Chapo says he found one,
but the prices in Tijuana, man...

But I found a guy that'll give it to us

for half what the stores in town
are selling it at.

You hear that, Héctor? Half-off.

Just fix the fucking fan, Cochi!

Fine.

Guess Lupita's not giving it
to him enough.

Goddamn it. It's empty.

Nothing.

We need air, boss.

Breathe slower.

Fucking hell.

How's the cable coming?!

It's coming! It's coming!

Hurry!

We are suffocating here!

Connect that fucking cable!

Fuck.

Was that running before?

What the fuck are these guys doing?

Well, I guess Calderoni was wrong.

These idiots are going home.

Back to Sinaloa.

Walt, negative on going across
that border.

They're taking Federal Two.
Going eastbound.

Headed back to Sinaloa.

Stay on them for another ten miles.

Why would they bring their shit
all the way back to Sinaloa?

Maybe because it's never left Tijuana.

Something's going on here.

We're staying till nightfall.

I'm going in that fucking warehouse.

Two hundred kilos just like that.

The gringos didn't even look their way.
Our people either.

It was brilliant, Enedina.

But we're going to have a problem.

What?

We're going to need more coke.

A lot more.

I'm going to introduce you to my contact
in Colombia.

It's time, partner.

What are we looking for?

Hear that?

This guy is fucking my girl.
Fucking bullshit.

Well, she's so fine, I don't blame him.

Shut up, man.
Don't fuck with me too.

I'm always being made a fool of,
and you still got to fuck with me.

Here are your fucking cigarettes.

They built a fucking tunnel.

Every single one of these houses
on these two blocks

has had the same owner
for the past five years.

Except for this beaut right here.

Bought on foreclosure, what,
three months ago.

Cash buyer.

The other end of the dig.

Okay then. Let's call it in, put together
a team and hit the shit in San Ysidro.

Well, that's one way to play it.

What does that accomplish?

We're talking 300 keys at least.

Said so yourself.

Getting drugs off the street, right?

I mean, that's what we accomplish.

Pin a fucking medal on our chest.

Is that what you're looking for?

A medal?

Fuck this guy.

You make this bust, it ends there.

You get some coke off the streets,
some junior traffickers go to jail.

Sounds good so far.

What happens when Benjamín Arellano Félix
finds out that the Sinaloans

have built a tunnel beneath his plaza?

The heat between the plazas
gets turned up.

Now that's bad news for Félix.

You want to dismantle an empire?

Divide it.

Walt, you're not seriously
considering this, are you?

This your move all along, comandante?

This guy is playing us.

Yeah, maybe.

But I'm tired of losing.

Walt, we go down this path, man,
I can't hang with you.

I'm out.

I mean it, man.

Well...

then you do what you gotta do, man.

How do we make this happen?

The old fucker's not stupid.

He knows what I can do to him.

Find out why he's not afraid.

When I land in Guadalajara, tell me
what the fuck he's got in his back pocket.

Got it.

What the fuck did you say?

They built a what?

Ramón!

Get some men.

What the fuck's that?

Don't move, asshole!

How many men are down there?

Boss. What the fuck was that?

- They've stopped working down there.
- Shh!

Get them up here.

Let's go, guys.

Move it!

Sinaloan motherfuckers need to learn.

Turn that fucking thing on.

This is bullshit. Dump it faster!

You can't, boss. Doesn't work like that.

Fuck this.

Take that away.

Okay, get the other shit.

So...

all your guys out?

Guess we'll find out.

Get out of here!

Move it!

Move it! Move!

What do we do, boss?

What is it? What's he got?

It's not good.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Budget secretary.

PhD from Harvard. Father was a senator.

Why do I care?

He's going to be
the next president of Mexico.

Hasn't been announced,
but he's been tapped by the PRI.

Zuno's arrest in the US
made too much noise.

The party doesn't want a candidate
who's got a nephew

sitting in an American prison.

So our fat friend in Mexico City
isn't getting the nomination.

You're sure?

The new guy,

as a kid,

spent summers at the coast.

In Matamoros.

Where his father, the senator,

was close friends with
a leading local businessman,

Juan Nepomuceno Guerra.

So you want to know what Guerra has
in his back pocket?

The next president of Mexico.

Guerra's been playing you the whole time.

Old-timers...

they don't fuck around.

Have to admire it.

Fuck admiring it.

I need everything you can get
on that bald asshole.

- There's something else.
- What?

Some shit went down in Tijuana.

A tunnel turned up,
running under the border.

Still trying to pin down more,
but it's bad.

Motherfuckers.

Hey, boss.

How was the trip?

Going home, sir?

Go to the apartment at Parque Lineal.

Very good.

Clavel! Clavel!

Sir, are you okay? Remain calm.
We're getting everything under control.

Please remain calm.
Stay inside while we secure the perimeter.