Santiago Molina was at the Medellin airport. He was not going to New York to assassinate Sergeant Rodriguez. He owed it to Miguel to tell him he was running, but he wouldn’t tell him where. Miguel answered the call, “Santiago, where are you?”
“I’m at the airport. I’m not going to New York, Miguel.”
“What are you saying? Are you trying to get us both killed? If Jorge finds out, we’re both dead. Do you understand me?”
“I’m sorry, Miguel. I lied about the whole thing. Yes, I set the fire; but I didn’t kill El Moreno. I just wanted Delacruz to think I had balls, so I made up the story.”
“So what happened that morning? And don’t you f*****g lie to me.”
“I’ll tell you. The night before the fire, El Moreno was on his yacht. He was partying with several women. He was drinking and using lots o
