And then the DEA's Colombian informant started freelancing. He abruptly told Le Roux he had a friend who was looking for heavy weapons, something more than machine guns.

“We can do explosives,” Le Roux said, at first unfazed. “We can do all kinds of small arms. Whatever you want, we can get it.”

“The thing with this guy,” Pepe said, “he wants me to deliver it to New York. Do you have a way to deliver it?”

Le Roux let out a long sigh. “That's a tough one,” he said. “So why does he want it shipped to New York?”

“He wants the heavy stuff to New York,” Pepe said, trying to backtrack. “When he says heavy stuff, I don't know the details.”

“Well, I don't know,” Klaussen interjected, nervously. “We can see what the details are.”

“The problem is always the transportation,” Le Roux said, and the conversation moved back to drugs. They had a deal to com- plete.

“Beautiful, I think that covers everything,” Le Roux finally said, when they'd discussed some more logistics.

“We talk tomorrow about the details,” Pepe said.

“Beautiful.”

“Paul, nice to meet you.”

“Good meeting you.”

The video from Klaussen's watch camera bounced from floor to wall and back as the men shook hands. He and Le Roux walked to the exit, the sound of flip-flops echoing off the tile floors. “I think the boss is satisfied,” Le Roux whispered, as the elevator doors closed.

“He is,” Klaussen said. “Like I said, he's a nice guy.”

“We're not going to fuck him,” Le Roux said as they walked out to the waiting car. “But the weapons is interesting. It doesn't make sense why someone wants it shipped to the fucking U.S.”

“Yeah, I dunno,” Klaussen said.

“That's asking for trouble.”