All language subtitles for Hotel.cocaine.S01E03.MeGusta-1080.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.NET

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- I need a favor.
- What kind of favor?

I need the health status
of a Chucho Ramirez.

Somehow Chucho figured out
I'm working for the DEA.

It was either him or me.

Chucho isn't just my number two.

He's a brother to me.

What if he regains consciousness
and talks to the cops?

He will never betray me.

Cabal's smart.
If he tries to grab his man,

he's in for a rude awakening.

Just walk slowly.

They switched him out
for a fucking dead guy!

- Let's go.
- Fuck, man.

- What the fuck is this?
- The loan documents I signed

to gain control of this property
and build The Mutiny.

I forged the signature
of my father

under his nose and the nose
of my cunt of a sister.

I'm gonna need everything you got

on Nestor Cabal.

- Roman.
- Roman?

There's nothing you wanna
tell me about that night

we haven't talked about?

Fuck!

As soon as Chucho wakes up,

he'll either tells Zulio
or Nestor what I did,

and Valeria will grow up
without a father.

Roman's life is at stake.

Please, I just need a nurse's uniform.

I need a new second in command.

You're my new Chucho.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please welcome our very own...

...Mutiny Girls!

Don't go.

My first visit
to El famoso Mutiny.

Now I understand
what all the fuss is about.

_

Trust me, it's less fun
when you work here.

I'm gonna make you so fucking rich,

you're gonna kiss this place goodbye.

_

I can't replace Chucho.

I'm not in your business.

I don't know how it really works.

You'll learn, and as it happens,
I have a job that coincides.

At the moment, you're very well
placed for information.

There's a Colombian
staying in your hotel.

His name is Alvaro Gomez.

Word on the street is this guy's

trying to break
into the market in Miami.

He's guaranteeing better purity

than the shit I bring from Medellín

at 20% less per key.

That's... that's what I mean. Okay?

I don't know the first thing
about drug smuggling,

Brother, you didn't know the
first thing about gun smuggling,

and you managed to smuggle all
those fucking guns under Castro's nose.

Smuggling is smuggling.

So, what do you need?

Find out if this Alvaro Gomez
is for real,

if I can trust him.

How and where is he getting
this shit into Miami?

Can't your guys just follow him around?

If he ever left his room,
but he's been holed up in there

meeting with my friendly competitors.

Gomez invited me, too,

but I'm not gonna meet
with him until I know more.

You have access to his room.

Search it. See what you can find out.

No. No.

_

_

No.

_

_

_

Galvez is in the Marquis de Sade suite.

Check it out.

Fuck Pablo Escobar.

That fat ass motherfucker
is robbing you blind.

It costs him less than
a thousand a key to produce,

and he's charging you
upwards of 50 grand.

Not to mention,
the purity level is about 75%.

Our purity level is 95%,

at 30 a kilo.

Feel free to sample the product.

_

That's some premium blow, Gomez.

Mr. Adamo, Mr. Armas, Mr. Solis,

I am here

as a representative
of a very powerful man

who is ready to take control of Miami

and make you...

tens of millions more
than you already do.

Cut through the chase, Gomez.

What is his name?

No names, but you will know him
by his symbol.

La Cobra.

Whoo!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.MY-SUBS.com

Whoo!

You must find the right bra
for your particular ta-tas.

Janice.

Ladies, I want each of you to go
see my girl at Burdines.

She'll get you fitted and set up
with new knocker lockers.

- Capiche?
- Yes, Janice.

Okay.

Hey.

Hi. Any news?

Chucho died.

Apparently a fatal arrhythmia.

Wow.

Well, it couldn't have happened
to a nicer guy.

Janice...

...you didn't have anything
to do with it, did you?

No. Of course not.

But this gets you off the hook, right?

With your brother and the D.E.A.?

No, not exactly.

No, now Nestor wants me

to replace Chucho
as his second in command.

Zulio's happy.

And I'm still... screwed.

Well, we're back to square one.

Of course, that could be a good thing.

I want out.

I did wanna get the goods from Chucho

until that stupid
son of a bitch croaked on me.

But on the other hand,
it has forced Nestor

to rely more on you.
Did he say anything?

Did you not hear me? _

Is that any way to speak to
your favorite D.E.A. agent?

Don't worry, ah? I'll give you a pass

on account of you're under
so much pressure.

Look, all I know is
he's mourning Chucho.

Oh, bullshit.
Nothing's been said about...

about plans, strategy
and about cocaine shipments?

No.

I remind you that you're trying
to keep your family together.

Isn't that what
you Cubans are all about?

_

Oh, yeah. That reminds me.

I got something here
that might cheer you up.

Valeria's driver's license.

So, now you're stealing
my daughter's mail.

As my informant, your mail,
and you are mine and hers.

So, stay close to Nestor,

and listen good.

Oh, and, uh, make sure she buckles up.

You gotta read
Fear of Flying by Erica Jong.

- It'll change your life.
- Excuse me.

- Yeah.
- Quick question.

Do you know anything
about a guest Alvaro Gomez

staying in the Marquis de Sade suite?

Funny you should ask.

We had to tell him The Mutiny
girls aren't hookers.

He's looking for a hot time.

Well, apparently,
he's some big supplier.

Nestor wants me to search his room,

find out if he's for real.

Bring him a free bottle of Don,
or, frankly, free anything.

It doesn't matter how rich you are.

Everyone loves a freebie.

- Good idea.
- I know.

_

I'm Roman Compte, the General Manager,

and now I have some champagne
and caviar for Mr. Gomez.

We didn't order anything.

They're a gift from a Mr. Nestor Cabal.

Come in.

Give me one second.

Salud.

The fuck is this?

Oh, it's a gift from Mr. Cabal,

who also asked me to convey a message.

Oh. You have a message
from Nestor Cabal?

Uh...

He sends his regrets

that he couldn't be
with you all tonight.

Tell that motherfucker

he made a mistake by not coming here.

And if he wants to do business,

he needs to speak to me directly,

not send fucking room service.

Now get the fuck out of my room.

Yes, sir.

- Hey.
- Ay, Dios mío.

- Wow.
- The pancakes are burning.

Oh, yeah.

You know, wait till
they're on your plate.

Okay, well, I have to go,

'cause if I miss the bus,
I have to walk.

Okay. Well, did you finish
your homework?

Yeah. Marisol helped me.

Good. Oh, wait. Hey, there's, uh...

something for you.

Oh!

When did this come in?

Yesterday. _

Can I drive to school?

When you get your own car, maybe.

- Here.
- Okay.

Have a great day.

- Love you. Bye.
- Bye.

Yeah, yeah, ooh.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Mmm. Mmm.

Gracias.

Uh-huh. There you go.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

- Sir?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

There's someone here for you.

Ooh. Who? Who? Who?

It's your sister.

Can you please grab me
a nice suit from my closet?

Of course.

What the hell do you think
you're doing, Constance?

Getting a jump on the decor.

It's all gonna have to change
when we take over.

Uh, who the fuck is "we," and
what do you mean, take over?

A few years ago,

you borrowed $3 million
from Copley Savings and Loan.

Yeah, I needed to do renovations.

A balloon payment is due
on that loan in three days.

You owe the remaining
$2.1 million, dumbshit.

So?

If you ever looked at your books,

you'd know that your overhead
rivals Disney World.

You spend it as fast as you make it.

And this little bacchanalian orgy vibe

- you have going on...
- Hey, Burton.

...is revolting, but more
importantly, it's a fad,

like Elvis or feminism.

The good news is, this property
is actually a decent asset.

A lot of added value,
just not in your hands.

So, we'll cut you a check,

which you can go snort up your nose,

and we'll turn this hotel

into something more respectable
and enduring.

Over my dead body.
Does Dad know about this?

Who do you think authorized
your payout, moron?

You are lucky he's so generous.

Fuck you and your ugly white pants.

What makes you think I'd sell to you?

Because everything you touch
eventually turns to shit.

So... be smart for once in your life.

Take the money.

You can come by my office
to sign the papers

and try not to be completely
high out of your mind.

I don't want any capacity issues.

Still a fucking cunt.

I was in Gomez's room
for only a few minutes.

Saw him writing in a a little book.

That's about it.

Yeah, so he's selling
for a new Colombian producer.

He doesn't come to see me?

Boys, I hope you're hungry.

This is my beautiful wife, Alejandra.

_

This is my brother Roman.

- It's a pleasure, Alejandra.
- Roman!

Oh, my God. It's so nice
to finally meet you.

- Same here.
- Nestor has told me so much about you.

I feel like I already know you.

_

Bueno,
I have a thousand sample chilis

to place on the ofrenda
before the party tonight. So...

- _
- Thank you, baby.

_

Brother, I'm telling you,
this one's real.

And Mami would have loved her.

I'm happy for you.

Tell me, do you have someone
in your life?

I do. I have a girlfriend... Marisol.

She's brilliant.

But does she got along with Valeria?

They love each other.

And Valeria is doing
very well at school.

She's a straight-"A" student.

I mean, she's a teenager,
but... she's a good kid.

I want to get your opinion or something.

Ah.

Wow.

Just like Mami's.

- Wow.
- _

_

_

_

_

_

_

Hey, brother.

I want to see my niece.

I'm her godfather. I haven't seen her

since she was like 8 years old.

Alejandra's having
A Day of the Dead party tonight.

Why don't you bring them? It'll be fun.

Good music and dancing.
She prepared all kinds of shit.

Valeria... she's very... busy and...

You know what?

That's cool.

I got it. I understand.

You know what? We'll be here.

We'll be here.

Thank you, brother.

Thank you.

138 rooms booked solid year round.

The Mutiny Club and Hotel

are a fucking institution in Miami.

And you're telling me
we don't have the money

to make this fucking payment?

Well, we could make a part of it,

but you'd still be $700,000 short.

$700,000? Jesus Christ.

Okay, new plan.
Best offense is a good defense.

I think that's the other way around.

John, what's our...
what's our blitzkrieg?

Our Austerlitz, our Trafalgar?

Actually, Napoleon lost that last one.

- Shut up, John.
- May I?

Of course you may. Right there.

- Burton.
- Yeah.

To put it bluntly, you're fucked.

Your family are using the loan payment

to initiate a hostile takeover.

Then... then we get hostile right back.

You sure you want 'em
opening up the books?

Doing forensic accounting,
going over every receipt

and corporate document
with a magnifying glass?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
When you say, "corporate docs,"

you mean, like the original loan papers?

That's exactly what I mean.

Yeah, uh... okay.

You rang?

What'd you miss, my smiling face?

What if I told you I could give
you someone bigger than Nestor?

There's no one bigger
than Nestor right now.

What if I told you Nestor says
there's a new Colombian connection

undercutting Escobar by 20%?

I tell you to suck my fucking dick.

Nobody is undercutting
the Medellín cartel

and living to talk about it.

Mira...

I'll give you a name.

You check it out.

If it pays off,
stop messing with my family

and get me off the Nestor Cabal detail.

Hey, you might win a shiny medal.

- Give me the name.
- Alvaro Gomez.

Gomez?

Oh. Since there's only
a few Gomezes in Miami,

this should be an easy task.

Just check it out.

Now, in return,
I'd like you to plant this

in your brother's house,

wherever he's most likely
to talk about business.

Is that a bug?

Are you trying to get me fucking killed?

No. No, but I am starting to
wonder about your motivation.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Well, you haven't given me diddly yet,

except this Alvaro Gomez guy,
or that Chucho dies,

when the doctor said he'd be fine.

Could you be running a game on me?

And risk my daughter?

_

I'm just fucking with you, man.

Come on. Smile.

It's all gonna be all right...
in the end.

Come on. Let's fuck off.

Hey, Janice, did housekeeping
get Mr. Gomez's trash?

- Yeah, it's in your office.
- Great.

Roman, thank God you're here.

Yeah, I've been looking for you, too.

I need to take off early
tonight. It's a family matter.

Yeah, of course. Family comes first,
always, except in my case.

See that unkind-looking woman
over there?

The mousy one by the entrance.

- Uh, yeah.
- Yeah, my sister.

That 2-faced bitch
is trying to take my hotel.

- What?
- Yeah, we could all be out of a job.

I don't know what to do.

Hey, did the Maharishi check in yet?

He just arrived with his entourage

and a list of culinary demands.

Huh. Maybe I can ask him for advice.

I mean, he helped The Beatles

when they were at each other's throats.

Yeah, if you think that would help.

Well, if it doesn't, you might
have to bail me out for murder.

Sorry about that I gotta watch my karma.

I gotta go.

Hey, Omar. Have you seen the Maharishi?

Oh, yeah, he's right over there.

Hey, Maharishi! Maharishi!
Yo! Excuse me. Hey, Maharishi,

- I'm Burton Greenberg...
- Can I help you?

- I'm the owner of this hotel.
- Well done.

Its happiness radiates
like the fragrance of a flower.

Thank you so much.

May I welcome the Maharishi personally?

No. I'm sorry.

He is meditating
for the next six hours...

to ingest that fragrance.

Okay, but I really need to talk to him.

- Namaste.
- How about I bring you a bottle

- of our finest champagne?
- We are fine. Thank you.

- Namaste.
- Namaste.

So, why did you want
Alvaro Gomez's trash?

It's a military
recon trick called rooting...

digging through an enemy's trash
for information.

In this guy's case...

S&M porn.

Here, Pate de Luxe.

It's a French shoe polish,
very expensive.

There's an import stamp.

- Bonaventura Seaport, Colombia.
- Gasoline.

10-gallon tank, 91 octane.

Piel Roja.

It's a Colombian cigarette.

Any of this tell us anything?

It confirms he's Colombian.

I mean... Bonaventura is a port city.

It could be where
they're shipping it in from.

What about the gas?

I don't know.

I'm gonna have to sneak into his suite,

see if I can find more information,

assuming I can get Alvaro
to clear out of there...

Oh, shit. I have to pick up
Marisol and Valeria,

who are going to
Nestor's tonight for a party.

You're bringing your family
to his house?

I didn't have a choice, Janice.

Look, I got this. Go to your party,

leave Alvaro Gomez to me.

Uh...

You're a fucking rat.

What are you doing?

I can't go through with this.
I'm not going.

He's expecting us.

And Valeria shouldn't go either.

I would never put either of you
in harm's way.

He's my brother.

And he wants to meet you
and see his goddaughter.

He's a drug dealer.

Please.

Please, mi amor.

I... I'm trying to figure a way
out of this situation.

Just...

Please, Marisol.

Just one night.

Hey. So, are we leaving or what?

I'm totally dying to see him.

Um...

As soon as Marisol's ready.

Yeah, I'm ready.

Wow.

- This is padrino's place?
- Yep.

Don't tell me this stunning
young woman is my goddaughter.

Oh. Say hello to padrino.

I miss you.

The last time I saw you,
you were eight years old,

and you were missing
your two front teeth.

- Did they grow back?
- What do you think?

I can't see 'em.

I heard you just had a birthday?

I just turned 16.

Sixteen? Wow.

- I owe you a present.
- Yeah.

Nestor, this is Marisol.

Hi. Pleasure to meet you.

Marisol, I've heard so much about you.

Roman tells me you're a teacher
and quite the scholar.

Oh, no, he exaggerates.

I just teach junior high.

While working on her doctorate.

Hello. Hello. Welcome.

Roman, nice to see you again.

My wife, Alejandra.

Oh, you must be Valeria.

It's so nice to finally meet you!

- You, too.
- And, Marisol, of course.

- Hi.
- You look stunning.

Thank you.

Come. Come with me. I'll get you set up.

Ah. Trust me, it'll be fun.

- Yeah.
- Let's go.

_

What is this Day of the Dead stuff?

_

I don't know, but it makes
her happy, so fuck it.

I can't believe how much
Valeria looks like her mom.

Acts like her, too.
She's defiant, headstrong,

but maybe all 16-year-olds
are like that.

No, she has her mother's spirit.

Nestor! Great party.
Thanks for inviting us.

Congressman Landen,

I want you to meet my brother,
Roman Compte.

Nestor, you never mentioned
you had a brother. A pleasure.

Congressman, it's good to see you again.

Have we met before?

He was General Manager
at The Mutiny Club.

You've seen him there.

Ah, yes. You've seated me before.

What a wonderful place.

Yeah, thank you.

- If you'll excuse us.
- Of course.

Good night.

_

Ooh.

- What are we supposed to be?
- We're Catrinas,

and we're celebrating those
who have passed.

Oh. Well, we don't celebrate
that in Cuba.

Neither in Spain.

Well, no, it's a Mexican tradition

to remember our loved ones
and bring us closer to death

so that we don't fear it.

- That's actually kind of cool.
- Yeah.

Impressive guests.

He's a greedy bastard,
but politicians are useful.

- Anything on Alvaro?
- No. Nothing yet.

But I did see those men
in his room the other night...

Barry Solis, Cisco Armas,
and John Adamo.

They're at the club all the time.

Solis is Cuban.

He worked for Suarez
for 20 years in Bolivia.

They gave him Miami as a thank you gift.

Armas' also Cuban. You see that dog?

It's on a diet of pure filet mignon.

And the Yankee, Adamo...

he's an associate
of the Genovese crime family

in New York City.

Those guys aren't my competitors,

so much as my associates.

Well, they spent the entire
night in Gomez's room.

Wouldn't they know where and how
he smuggles his product?

They don't care.
They already committed to buy.

I'm just more careful.

I'm curious.

Who has the fucking balls
to undercut Escobar?

Alvaro Gomez.

Come in. Don Alvaro.

_

I thought The Mutiny Girls
didn't play for pay.

Shut up.

On the floor, bitch.

Yes, goddess.

Ooh-la-la, baby, give me a little kiss.

Hey, eh, eh, no, ya, ya, ya.

- Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya,
- Jefe.

I got it.

_

What just happened?

_

Nice face.

No Day of the Dead makeup for you?

You kidding?
My dad forced me to come here.

No way I'm putting on that shit.

Okay.

But it looks cool on you.

- What brings you here?
- My dad.

- And who is he?
- Roman Compte.

Never heard of him.

Why would you have heard of him?

'Cause I know all these guys.
My dad's Congressman Landen.

He "works with them."

What does your dad do?

- Um, he runs The Mutiny Club.
- Far out.

That is the most radical spot in Miami.

Hmm.

I bet you look really pretty
under all that makeup.

I do.

On behalf of Nestor and myself,

I'd like to welcome you all to our home.

And now, in the spirit of my tradition,

I'd like to sing you a little song.

Yeah!

- I need to find a bathroom.
- Let me guess.

You're gonna stay in there
until the song is over.

Do you want a drag?

I shouldn't. My dad's like a bloodhound.

He can tell when I've had
onion rings for lunch.

Okay.

Do you like Zeppelin?

- Yeah.
- Really?

Well, we should go see 'em sometime.

Grab some... onion rings afterwards.

- Are you a little bitch?
- Yeah.

- Are you? Say it.
- Yeah. Yeah.

Say it!

Say it! Say it!

Say it!

Stop.

You're gonna fuck with my wife?!

Fuck you! Give me that.

_

_

Te gusta?

_

You wouldn't believe
who was at Nestor's.

Florida congressman.

They're all chasing the money
no matter where it comes from.

You gotta love Miami.

You should have seen Alvaro.

He was in a perverted frenzy
while he clogged his toilet.

Good morning. Roman Comte.

Your toilet is clogged?
Yes, of course, Señor Gomez.

I will personally oversee the repairs.

Allow us to host you by the pool

for a complimentary champagne
breakfast while you wait.

Yes, I will be right up.

Sí, señor.

Yeah, not so fast, fucknut.

Hey, do you ever sleep?

Uh... I checked out
this Alvaro Gomez character.

He took off out of Bogotá
and landed in Miami,

and now he's got a reservation
here at The Mutiny.

He's traveling on a diplomatic passport.

I told you it was big.

It's easier to buy
a passport in Colombia

than a pack of fucking Bubblicious.

Plus, Gomez is a fake name, asshole.

Hello?

- So far, you've given me shit.
- Roman.

- Roman Compte.
- Hey, brother.

you and Valeria have a good time
last night at the party?

Look, I have to...
I have to call you back.

Um... a little busy.

Uh, yeah, listen.
I need something on Gomez.

_

_

I'm losing patience. You fuck me around,

you're gonna see your life
spin down the drain.

Let's go.

Marty Owens.

- Roman. Roman. You got a sec?
- Sure.

Okay. Can you think
of any of our regular guests

who might be able to loan me some money?

- I pay it back with interest.
- Well, how much is some?

Uh, well, if I don't make a payment

of $700,000 on my balloon loan,
I'm toast.

- Your sister?
- None other.

Look, you don't want to get
involved with our guests that way.

If you can't pay them back,

they don't send
a collection notice, Burton.

- They send a hitman.
- Yeah. Okay. Okay, but, like,

what about Ray Dorado?

I mean, he's here all the time,
and he owns a bank,

and he handles, like,
millions of dollars...

Yeah, laundering money for the cartels.

He's the last person you should talk to.

Ray Dorado is bad news.

_

- You stay away.
- Yeah, Yeah, of course.

- It was a terrible idea.
- Hey, Roman.

Your daughter and Marisol
just pulled up.

They're looking for you.

- You know, let me think on it.
- Yeah, yeah.

They just delivered it!

Delivered what?

The... The car.

Huh.

Listen, I don't...
I don't know how you did this,

but thank you. I love you so much.

Almost as much as I love this car.

Roman, what's going on?

I mean, we can barely afford
the mortgage.

How in God's name did you buy this?

I didn't.

You didn't?

Yeah, I didn't buy it outright.

Burton started a new lease
program for employees and...

Well... you did good.

I've never seen her so happy.

I'm glad.

Do you guys wanna go for a spin?

- Yeah.
- _

But I have a... an errand I have to run.

Maybe later, okay?

Okay.

Gracias.

Mucho gusto.

It looks great on you.

Drive safe.

- Okay.
- Yeah.

_

Of course I never went in there.
It's a fucking bar!

No, I don't know what time
I'm gonna be home tonight.

Look, somebody's just
walked into my office.

Yeah, I love you, too.

Give the boys a big hug
from Daddy, okay?

Jesus. Huh. How can I help you, friend?

Well, Mr. Owens, I have
a message from Don Alvaro.

Who the fuck are you?

A friend.

A friend? Well, I need a name, friend.

Let me see some fucking identification.

Sure.

Roman Compte,
the manager of The Munity Club.

That's where Don Alvaro is staying,
as you probably know.

He told me to tell you

he needs specifics
about the next shipment...

when and where it's coming in.

Why didn't he call me himself?

Alvaro is worried his phone is tapped,

along with every payphone
on the premises.

He didn't discuss with me
why he needs the information.

He just needs it.

Why would Gomez send you
as his errand boy?

- I can't read his mind...
- Go fuck yourself!

Jimmy, let's go.

- Throw this asshole out. Pronto.
- All right.

He's running a game, and kick
his ass while you're at it.

That's not gonna be necessary.
I'm leaving.

I'm good. I'm fine.

Who the fuck are you?!

I need answers!

Stop, Stop! Stop!

What did... what did you wanna know?

I need to know where, when,
and how Alvaro imports his coke.

- His coke?
- That's right!

Gomez doesn't import coke.

It's motorcycles.

He imports weapons and motorcycles.

Kawasaki motorcycles.

If you don't believe me,
I can show you the paperwork.

I'll bring your car around,
Mr. Greenberg.

Thank you so much.

- Come.
- Uh, excuse me.

Mr. Maharishi. Mr. Maharishi.

Hi. I'm Burton Greenberg.

I own this hotel.
I really need to talk to you.

I'm sorry. He does not have the time.

Okay, I know. I just have to
ask him one thing.

- Just one little...
- Hello.

One always has time for the man in need.

What is it that you seek, Mr. Greenberg?

My sister's trying
to take this hotel from me

because of a bad loan deal
I made, and well,

it's my home, goddamn it.

So, do I go bankrupt fighting
for it or... or let it go

and watch her turn it into
another homogenized hotel

for super squares?

When the elephant decides
to walk through the village,

the dogs come out and bark.

When the elephant decides to walk...

Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Wait. What the fuck does that mean?

Are you fucking kidding me with that?

Oh, fuck this.

One tab can't hurt.

Well, if I take two tabs,
nothing will hurt.

Hmm.

I'd like to start by
thanking everyone for coming

on such short notice. The good news is,

this should all be relatively
quick and painless,

as long as everyone behaves.

And by everyone, I mean you, Burton.

Oh, really? I didn't know that.

All you have to do
is sign this contract.

take your check,

and you can walk out that door
a debt-free man.

Burton. Burton.

Burton, are you going
to sign the contract?

Burton. Burton.

When the elephant decides
to move through the village,

the dogs come out and bark.

- Burton.
- Janice?

Be the elephant.

Burton.

Uh...

Hi.

Oh.

- Uh...
- Burton.

Sign the contract.

Right.

Burton!

Sign the contract.

Why are you doing that?

Oh, my fucking God.

Burton.

Stop that, Burton.

Burton... stop it.

Burton, Burton. What are you doing?

Stop it!

Burton, you're embarrassing yourself.

Oh, yeah!

- What are you doing?
- Whatever I want.

That's what makes me the elephant

and you all a bunch of little bitches.

You cannot just do drugs
on the conference table.

- There are...
- Rules?

Yeah, I know how you love
your rules, Connie.

That's your problem.
You're a rule follower.

Take a look around, you idiot.

We don't follow them. We make them!

And I don't even acknowledge them.

So, who's the idiot now?

Fortune favors the bold!
Those who take what they want,

no matter what the fucking rules say!

Quaaludes for breakfast, coke for lunch,

pussy for dinner.
People wanna feel special.

That's not a fad. That's the future.

And I intend to give that
to them 24 hours a day,

seven days a week at The Hotel Mutiny.

Ohh! Hmm.

Good meeting, guys.

I thought Marty Owens

was helping Alvaro Gomez
import cocaine. He's not.

He's importing motorcycles and guns,

and the coke comes later.

I don't understand.

Motorcycles are the preferred
method of assassination

for the Colombian cartels.

They speed by, unleash a hail
of bullets, and they're gone.

So, you're saying the Colombians
are staking a claim for Miami?

Yeah, I thought Alvaro Gomez was here

to recruit powerful Cuban dealers

like Adamo, Solis, and Armas.

Alvaro was meeting with them
so they'd let their guard down,

get them to view him
as a friend, not an enemy,

and my brother was suspicious.

The Colombians are here
to wipe out the competition,

to wipe out the Cubans
who were here first.

A war is about to begin.

- I have to warn Nestor.
- Wait.

What?

Maybe the best move is to do nothing.

Your brother made his bed.
Let him lie in it.

And what? Just let him get killed?

If Nestor goes away, so does
your problem with the DEA.

- He's my brother.
- And Valeria is your daughter.

Who's more important?

_

You did good, hermano.
You haven't lost your skills.

Apparently not.

Thanks for the warning.

I feel very safe with you by my side,

like, nothing can fucking touch me.

If you ever send anything to Valeria

without my permission again,
I'll fucking kill you.

Understood.

Now, let's go inside and find
out who's behind all this.