PROLOGUE XIX

“Why not?”

“Actually we move pills in the U.S.,” Paul says. “These Ameri- can fucks, they have an appetite for everything. They will just spend and spend and spend.” Indeed, Paul has gotten rich, fabu- lously rich, by selling tens of millions of prescription painkillers to Americans over the Internet for nearly a decade. But unlike Pepe’s organization, Paul carefully avoids shipping street drugs like meth to the States. “It generates too much heat,” he says.

As the meeting winds down, Paul flashes a hint of his technical prowess, offering to send Pepe mobile phones that he has set up with encryption software to allow the two organizations to com- municate securely. He tells Pepe he can get him any weapons he needs out of Iran, particularly if a Liberian general can be pro- duced to make the transaction look official. Then he pauses to reflect. “I can tell you, you won’t find a better partner,” he says. He is a man, he explains, who keeps his organization in line. “One thing I tell all the guys, okay, everyone I deal with: Just don’t fucking steal. You know what I’m saying? That’s the one thing that pisses me off.” Earlier he described an employee who stole five million dollars from him, then began driving a Lamborghini around Manila, buying his girlfriends designer handbags and dia- mond necklaces. The employee was no longer a problem, he said. “He’s moved on, let’s put it that way.”

Now Paul has more management advice. “Don’t steal,” he re- peats, “and don’t fucking run your mouth to the government. You get caught doing anything, remember: You keep your mouth shut. You’ve got some guys—I’m sure you’ve had this: They come like this”—he makes a motion as if operating a jabbering puppet— “they get afraid in jail and then they think that the government is going to help them. They think the government is their best friend. I’m sure you’ve seen this, right?”

“That is only in movies,” Pepe says.

“They are running their fucking mouth like this. What’s going to happen when you get out, you make the deal? You think we’re going to forget about you?” He slaps his hands together. “You