Narcos: Mexico

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? 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."

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.