As a Mexican drug cartel operator gets ready to dispatch his next package, the Los Angeles fentanyl dealer watches cautiously from the sidelines. After being wrapped in foil and packed in plastic, the synthetic opioid pill is dropped into the trafficker’s unremarkable car’s gasoline tank with an oily splash.
He had already crossed from the United States to this cartel-run safe house on the Mexican side of the border using the alias Jay. The house appears to be just another one in the neighborhood. An iron gate securely closes behind us as we are instructed to drive in swiftly. Even if they don’t prepare the medication here, they are nevertheless cautious about drawing notice. The men all work fast and talk in low tones.
