So they go to every Best Buy in the city.
And they buy external hard drives.
Then they swap them out with older models that look new
and they return them.
Then they repackage and sell the new ones on the web, full markup.
So this story ends with your buddy Miggy buying his momma a new house?
No, of course not.
They traced the serial numbers to his cards...
...and busted him.
And you were surprised?
He stayed too long.
The odds got him.
His stupidity got him.
Shit. Damn it.
Hell yeah, still hot and everything.
What?
Relax, I’m playing.
You do look good though.
What do you want, Félix?
Nothing. I’m good.
Just gotta grab my money from our little billy goat,
and I’m all set.
What’s he talking about?
You don’t know?
Damn.
I did a couple runs. That’s it.
Well, that would be it.
Except your boy fumbled the drop.
Fucking cops were after me.
This motherfucker hears one siren,
gets so spooked, he tosses the whole fucking stash.
Tossed it where?
That’s the best part.
Tell her.
The East River.
Thing is, that leaves you light.
Okay, how much?
You want to tell her, or should I?
$150,000.
What an idiot.
Actually, 175.
And next week it’ll be 200 or so.
That interest is a bitch.
Look, I’m pretty fucking sure that number is too high for you.
But I can’t let that shit go unanswered.
Can I?
It’s not a problem.
I’ll handle it.
- You’ll handle it? - Yes, that’s right.
Last I heard, you were scrubbing toilets out in God’s country.
How the fuck can you get that kind of money?
That’s not your concern.
You know I always liked you, Elena.
You were the real deal back home.
And since we go back, I’ll knock off the interest.
How the fuck are these so good?
You know they make, like, ten billion of these a day?
Economies of scale and shit.
That’s what’s up.
All right.
Be seeing you, billy goat.
And Elena,
if you want to start making some real paper
you know I always got a place for you.
Fuck off, Félix.
$150,000?
What were you thinking? The fuck is wrong with you?
So what?
You ran drops for Giselle and Raf for years.
That was back in Santiago, damn it. Here we have options.
Bullshit.
Maybe you do.
Hello, Héctor.
Oh! Sweet Jesus!
What the hell are you doing here?
You weren’t answering my calls.
You have no idea the shit that I’ve been dealing with.
Ever since that murder,
I’m getting nonstop calls to upgrade alarm systems.
All in Westmont Village.
Sounds like business is good.
Mija, did something happen?
Like what?
They said it was a break-in that went south.
I’ve never gone near that house.
Obviously, I’ve never killed anybody. That’s insane, Héctor!
What about George Clooney?
Of course not.
Coop didn’t do it either.
How do you know?
Because I know him.
Are you fucking him?
Jesus Christ! Please.
All I know is that I can’t sleep
thinking about what you’re doing with that gringo.
I stare at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll fuck up and get caught.
You don’t have to worry about me.
It’s not you I’m worried about.
I don’t know how I let you talk me into any of this shit.
We’re not criminals, Elena.
Look, I get that you’re scared.
But I promise, I got this.
No, I’m out.
And if I were you, I’d get out now too.
Chivo owes Félix $150,000.
Shit.
And you fucking knew.
I heard Chivo was hanging around those dudes again. That’s it.
You didn’t think you should give me a heads up?
You’re doing good. I didn’t want him to bring you down.
Which I could have prevented if you told me about it.
So it’s my fault?
Go home, Elena.