Narcos

“What’s this?” Chuzo asked.

He crossed the street. They crossed the street. Narcos

Luis handed over a leather-bound ledger. Chuzo flipped through it, then paused. He held up a page to the fluorescent light. There, faintly, was a watermark Luis had never seen before. A tiny eagle. An American seal. “What’s this

Luis hung up. He walked back toward his apartment, not running, not walking slow—just moving. A man with no destination. A man who had just signed his own death warrant. Narcos