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sigurism · 1 year
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Pedro Pascal | Boyd Holbrook Narcos 2.01 -Free at Last
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Calle del Hospitalillo - Trujillo, Cáceres, Extremadura, ESPAÑA
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Incorrect Narcos Quotes
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proceduralpassion · 5 months
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It's Gonna Be A Scream
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Day 29 of Narcoctober- Create a fanwork inspired by your favorite horror movie.
Character(s): Javier Peña x Reader; Steve Murphy, Connie Murphy, Horacio Carrillo, Trujillo, Hugo Martinez
CW: violence, blood, character death (both implied and real)
WC: 689
A/N: The way this needs to be an entire fic and/or series??
Your lungs were on fire. The muggy Texas air didn’t help matters. All you felt was hot, thick cotton stuffing its way down your trachea with each breath you took. Every ounce of energy was going into getting away from certain death. You were too tantalized with fear to turn around and see if you were still being chased. Instead, you looked in front of you. Working overtime to catch up to Javi.
One of your best friends ever since you got to college kept swiping glances back at you, not sprinting too far away from you. The two of you got separated from the rest of the group somewhere in all of the frenzy and now you were both alone as you ran for your lives.
Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. No one was given much chance to come to terms with finding Hugo’s bloodied remains in a heap outside the lone Victorian-style farmhouse they had stopped at for help with their overheated travel van. Connie’s screams had permeated through the air as she realized that she had discovered the newly deceased body of their college friend and travel buddy. Steve immediately pulled her away, yelling, “Holy shit, that’s Hugo!”
Everyone’s yelps of confusion and horror gets drowned out by the sound of a chainsaw and the large man wielding it who’s charging straight at them. 
Horacio and Trujillo take off towards the house while Steve is pulling Connie back towards another vehicle on the land, hoping and praying that it’ll work. 
You immediately flee for the opposite direction in which the violent slaughterer is coming from. Javi falls in step with you and he points out the woodsy area that would hopefully provide shelter. It’s farther away from the roads in which you all drove in to get to the house, but you’re left with no choice. 
Your feet pound into the ground, carrying you further and further away except you don’t hear the sound of the chainsaw growing less quiet with time. You know he’s following you. You can’t bear to turn around and confirm, but you know it. 
Javi looks back once more now that he’s several steps in front of you, “Come on!” 
You clear the tall grass of the southern fields. It’s reedy and thick for the first several feet. The sound of the deadly weapon dissipates some, like he’s stopped. You’re catching up to Javi finally, but the two of you don’t stop. The fescue grass starts getting thinner in some areas, patchier, but there’s trees up ahead and you’ve got a good chance of completely losing your friend’s murderer if you can get across where there’s possible civilization. 
The sound of the chainsaw grows quieter and quieter and there comes a point when the two of you don’t hear it at all. Javi puts a finger to his mouth, willing quietness. He grabs onto your hand and pulls you both closer to the ground. The grass is getting shorter and there’s about thirty feet between it and the expansive space of trees. There’s no cover in that small feat. If the killer’s attention was no longer on them, it wouldn’t matter anyway, but it was still a risk.
You glance into each other’s eyes and realize the same thing at the same time. It’s do or die. Now or never. 
The both of you stop at the border that stops at the reeds and begins the wide open field before hitting the woods. A few seconds feels like a few hours. Thousands of words are exchanged between the desperate gaze the two of you share. The confessions you want to make. The feelings that you’ve both held for years. The promises you make to yourselves and to each other of what happens when this is all over. 
There’s no silent countdown. The two of you just nod and dart out into the open, making the rough, muddy terrain your track field.
Your lungs burn. 
Your feet hurt. 
The chainsaw drums up again. DALLAS MORNING NEWS- 7 University of Texas Students Reported Missing, Last Seen Traveling Together on Spring Break
Click here if you wanna be added to the taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @drabbles-mc @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord
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wandering-jana · 9 months
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An adorable street in Trujillo, Spain.
Explore Trujillo on my website:
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ashlingnarcos · 6 months
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two tests
771 word ficlet for @narcosfandomdiscord's #narcoctober challenge: write an og narcos and mx narcos crossover. tw for canon-typical events
Most men got tested three times; Carrillo only got tested twice. 
He was in another country, a de facto representative of Colombia, and as such, he was on his best behavior. When the first man offered him a bribe, he smashed the man’s head into his shitty little plywood desk, and although the desk broke and the head did not, he left it there. Zero broken bones, zero bullets: civilized. Gentlemanly, even.
“Going soft,” Trujillo teased him later, and Carrillo laughed as he told him to go fuck himself. 
Trujillo was the one good thing about being in Mexico, a true partner of the soft Carrillo hadn’t had since sometime in the early eighties after the last of his partners had finally been killed. In the interim, Carrillo had been forced to make due with Peña, who wasn’t as stupid as he looked and had the singular virtue of being unkillable as only American could be—but it wasn’t the same.
He had missed this, he let himself think as Trujillo grumblingly, happily, paid their tab for the night.
The next day, when the second man offered him a bribe, Carrillo was in a good mood. However, he felt he had neglected to make his point the day before, and so he decided to detain the man instead of arresting him outright. Trujillo knew the score, they found themselves a little hole in the wall, and the grim work began. 
Calderoni found them there during the cleanup, with Carillo marking new locations on a map in red marker, Trujillo sharpening his knife, and their assigned driver halfheartedly wielding a bloody mop.
“Carillo,” said Calderoni said in the voice of a reproving grandfather. “Thought this was supposed to be a fact-finding mission.”
“It is,” said Carillo, unbothered, not even looking up from the map as Calderoni’s men began to fill the space around him. “Good news: we’ve found some facts.” As the soldiers began to carry out the body, he started rattling off addresses one by one. 
Something was wrong, and he sensed it instinctively before he even knew why. Lifting his head, he saw that the soldiers around him were watching him with their hands resting on their weapons, and that Calderoni’s eyes were far too serious under his veneer of calm complacency.
Trujillo had stopped sharpening his knife. That was the wrongness he’d sensed.
On a hunch, Carrillo straightened up, put the marker down, and walked towards them, straying a little to the right to avoid the pool of blood. He discovered that he had been right. He hadn’t wanted to be right.
Calderoni had his gun jammed into the small of Trujillo’s back.
“What?” Carrillo said. 
It was a challenge, not a question. He was measuring the distance between himself and Calderoni with his eyes, but then, so was everyone else. 
He did not look at Trujillo.
“Repeat that last address,” Calderoni said.
“881 Lope de Vega.”
Something went over Calderoni’s face, brief as a twitch. 
“Wow,” he said, clapping slowly a few times, the loud sounds getting swallowed up in the dingy little room filled with men. As ugly as Calderoni made it, there was a hint of respect there, too; this was the sort of look Carrillo was used to receiving from all quarters, but never in this context. It made his whole body light up with pure animal instinct. To flee was not an option.
“They told me to watch out for you,” Calderoni said. 
Carrillo tilted his head a half-inch in acknowledgement; he was the sort of man that needed a warning, and he felt that was fair.
There was a moment of not-quite silence as Calderoni let out a long-suffering sigh. “I didn’t realize it would take you less than three days.”
“I don’t have time to waste,” said Carilllo.
“Neither do I.”
With that, Calderoni withdrew his gun from where it had been jammed against Trujillo’s back. To his pride, Carillo noticed that Trujillo didn’t so much as slump in relief, only letting out a barely perceptible breath. 
Then Calderoni handed the gun to Trujillo. 
“Well?” he said.
As Carrillo looked across the room through the sea of soldiers, Trujillo met his eyes without a hint of emotion, alive only as a question. For at the end of all things, they reverted to their oldest, truest selves: Carrillo as colonel who could bend for no one, and Trujillo as the one who would carry on when he could not.
Carrillo couldn't even nod, but he didn't need to.
Most men got tested three times; Trujillo only got tested once.
He passed with flying colors.
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7lunares · 11 months
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Voy caminando y viendo los atardeceres 💗
📍 Trujillo
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drabbles-mc · 6 months
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Looking On
A Narcos & Narcos: Mexico Crossover Fic
For @narcosfandomdiscord's "Porque No Los Dos?" Day: create a crossover with the original Narcos and Narcos: Mexico featuring at least one character from each
Warnings: 18+, language, blood/injury, no adherence to canon timelines whatsoever
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: This is a crackfic in the sense that I am just taking elements from both shows and using them how I see fit. They're toys in my sandbox now etcetc. S3 cast of OG Narcos in s2 of NMX? Why not!!!! Also let the record show that this entire fic happened because of one little exchange that happens at the end. So. You know. There's that. 😂
Narcos/NMX Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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He understood why so many people left after Escobar. A lot of people didn’t survive to even have the opportunity. Hell, after Carrillo, once all of it was said and done, Trujillo would’ve been lying if he said that it hadn’t been a fleeting thought through his mind a time or two as well. But underneath it he always knew that he wasn’t going to be walking away. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should’ve taken the win and gotten the hell out. However, he knew himself enough to know that if he did that, part of him would always be wondering what he was even doing any of it for, then. If he left after one big win, or whatever killing Escobar qualified as after all the destruction wrought to get there, what would that say about him? Stopping with no good, clear reason to?
Then he heard that Javi was getting roped back in and that changed the game as well. Carrillo had been his touchstone for so long and he was someone that Trujillo was never going to get back. He knew that. He knew that there was no one that could really fill those shoes. Javi, though, Javi felt like the last remaining piece of that chapter of their lives. Because Steve was gone too, off to somewhere quieter, less gunfire for his wife and daughter—that made sense at least. Javi coming back meant that he wouldn’t feel quite so alone if he stuck around. It never hurt to have someone close by who had a little bit of shared life experience, especially the bloody painful kind they all had in common.
Days ticked by. Javi did come back, but things were different now—he was different now. Trujillo could see it, feel it, but he never said anything about it. There was no point to it. It wasn’t as though Javi was going to spill his thoughts out because Trujillo asked him nicely. But even though things were different, there was still a strange brand of comfort to be had there. Despite the changes there was still an understanding between the two of them. The rules of engagement were different now that there were new players in the game, but each of them knew what the other had in their back pockets if push came to shove.
Which was why Trujillo couldn’t even try to pretend that he wasn’t shocked at Javi’s pitch, the way that the request felt like it was coming seemingly out of left field. “México?” he finally managed to get out.
“It’s not an order,” Javi clarified, knowing that he still didn’t have that kind of pull with the CNP, “but I…” he trailed off for a moment as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “We’re going regardless,” he said with a nod towards the glass walls of his office, Feistl and Van Ness bickering on the other side, “and I could use, you know,” he sighed, “someone I can trust.”
The shock still wasn’t gone from Trujillo’s face, but now he was at least smiling as well. He nodded towards the two new agents outside the office. “You don’t trust them?”
Javi scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I trust them not to sell me out. I don’t trust them to be fuckin’ subtle.”
Trujillo chuckled, nodding in understanding. “Right.” Taking a deep breath, he really thought about the offer that Javi was extending to him. It hit him that regardless of how much he did or didn’t want to do what Javi was asking, it wasn’t really up to him to decide whether or not he could go. “Did you clear it with—”
“They’re good with it if you are,” Javi cut him off, knowing what the rest of the question was going to be.
“That easy?”
Javi’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “As easy as anything is with them.”
Trujillo smirked at that. He could only imagine what that conversation must have been like between Javi and Martinez. It was nothing short of a miracle that Javi got the okay to ask. Trujillo supposed that maybe he shouldn’t waste the opportunity. “I’ll go.”
Relief crashed over Javi in one big tidal wave. His shoulders relaxed as he let out a quiet sigh. “Good.” He nodded towards his office door. “Go home and pack. We’re outta here first thing tomorrow morning.”
Their travels were quiet, uneventful. For the first time in a long time everything was on-schedule and going according to plan. In the back of Javi and Trujillo’s minds, they were both making a point to enjoy it because if history told them anything, it was that once they touched down in Mexico, things weren’t going to be quite as smooth.
“Agent Breslin,” Javi said, holding out his hand as they walked up to the man who was there to greet them as they got off the plane.
The man returned the gesture, giving Javi’s hand a firm shake. “Agent Peña.”
Trujillo stood back half a step as he watched all of the agents introduce themselves to each other. Even though Agent Breslin was wearing dark tinted sunglasses, Trujillo could still tell where he was looking for the most part. It didn’t take long for the two of them to be looking directly at each other.
Javi stepped in to facilitate their introduction. “Walt, this is Officer Trujillo.”
Trujillo stepped in to shake Walt’s hand. Despite his eyes being covered, the slow rise and fall of his head as he looked him over gave away exactly what he was doing as they shook hands. “Officer,” Walt said, his tone somewhere between a statement and a question. Trujillo only raised his eyebrows, to which Walt responded, “Just a long way from home, that’s all.”
Trujillo broke the handshake, arm dropping back to his side as he gave Walt the same obvious once-over he’d just doled out. “From the looks of it, I’m not the only one.”
The comment got Walt to scoff out something akin to a chuckle. He nodded. “Fair.” Turning back to Javi, he gestured towards the var behind him. “Come on, I’ll get you guys all up to speed.”
Trujillo stayed quiet for most of the drive. He listened to everything that Javi and Walt were talking about. Javi had given him the barest bones of a debrief before the took off, but Trujillo knew enough to know that he was going to be doing a lot of learning on the fly. That’s how it always was with them.
He didn’t know what he had been expecting when Javi told him that Walt had put together his won crew. Trujillo knew what their crew looked like in Colombia—it was essentially whoever Carrillo had any kind of trust in. And Steve. But he had no idea what he was going to be in for when they walked into the safehouse.
Whatever Trujillo thought it was going to be, the group of men staring at them as they all walked in were not who he had been expecting. He knew better than to judge books by their covers, of course, but it was hard not to notice the fact that it seemed like Walt was aiming to be as eclectic as possible with the people he brought into this. Trujillo wondered where the four of them were going to fit into it all.
Walt addressed his group of men first, taking the liberty of introducing everyone in one fell swoop. “This is Agent Peña—the guy I was telling you all about.” He pointed to the other two DEA agents. “Those are agents Feistl and Van Ness.” He turned and looked at the last man left. “And this is Officer Trujillo.” Walt looked at the four of them before gesturing broadly to the entire assembly of men in front of him. “This is the Smash & Grab Crew.” He paused. “You guys are just in time. Got some shit going down tonight.”
“Walt,” Kenny spoke up, cautious and annoyed.
Walt waved him off. “They’re here. They’re not goin’ anywhere. Might as well help—we could use the extra hands.”
After a few seconds of tense silence, everyone caved, nodding in agreement. It was too late to try and take it all back to keep secrets now anyway. Once they had all come to that silent agreement, they showed Javi and his men where they could drop their bags. They were all looking around the space as they made their way through it, scoping it out the same way they did every new environment that they got tossed into.
A man materialized beside Trujillo, and he would later learn that his name was Ossie. He had a cigarette between his lips and an amused smirk on his face as he watched Trujillo watch and process everything happening around them. “Bienvenidos, hm?”
Trujillo chuckled, for some reason feeling a little more at home after the comment. “Algo como eso.”
It’d been a long time since Trujillo felt like he was getting left behind and missing out on the action of things. It was a feeling that he hadn’t missed in the slightest. It wasn’t as though he was the only one left behind at the safehouse while the rest of them went out to snatch Verdín, but he still didn’t care for it. Javi was the only one out of the four of them to go, and while he heard Feistl and Van Ness chalk it up to a seniority thing, Trujillo knew it was much more about trust than it was rank.
His annoyance about the delegation of tasks was put temporarily on-hold when everyone came bursting back into the safehouse. At face value, it seemed like a successful operation. They caught the guy, after all. However, even though that was the case, Trujillo could feel the angst and tension among the men as dragged Verdín in. He was curious as to what happened, but he also knew better than to try and ask. If he needed to know, he’d find out eventually one way or another.
The second that Trujillo heard Verdín say, “I know that you left witnesses alive,” he knew what the initial tension had been about when they got back. He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him, the way that he dropped his head. That was a problem that would rear its ugly head again at some point. Might be hours, days, or weeks, but it would happen—it always did. He knew why people did. He wasn’t heartless, after all. But it also came down to weighing ethics against the endgame. Means versus ends. For a moment he felt like he was back home, but it was a brief moment.
The lengthy, and fruitless, interrogation made him miss Colombia. More specifically, it made him miss Carrillo. Not to say that Carrillo always made quick work of things. There were plenty of times where it was a slow burn. There were plenty of other times when even if the going wasn’t slow, it certainly wasn’t going right. But even then, at least there was something.
He could only sit there and watch Walt try to beat answers out of the guy for so long. He left Javi and the two agents to play spectator with some of Walt’s other men. Trujillo wasn’t even planning on leaving, not like he had any other place to go. He just needed to look at a different wall for a little while.
He was approaching the doorway of the safehouse when he heard a few of Walt’s crew outside talking. From what he caught, he wished that he could’ve heard the conversation from the start. He got there in time to hear Danilo firmly put Ossie in his place with, “You got into this for a paycheck? Man, don’t be fucking stupid. We’re all in this with our lives.”
No one saw him, and even if they did it wasn’t as though they would’ve really cared for his opinion, but Trujillo was still slowly nodding at the statement anyway. He leaned back against the wall behind him, the murmurs of conversation from outside in one ear, the grunts and dulled thuds of punches in the other. He turned Danilo’s statement over in his head again, hoping that maybe it would drown out some of his frustrations, restore some of the faith. Because even though some of Walt’s men looked like they came from the same farm for Americans that Steve Murphy did, Trujillo had to admit that they were dedicated to everything that they were doing. Kind of like Murphy, he thought silently to himself with a quick grin.
More hours ticked by. More punches thrown. If only any of it had resulted in more information from Verdín, but they were still stuck at square one the same way they had been when they brought him back. Trujillo listened to Walt and Javi going back and forth about it, trying to figure out what the best plan of action was now. Like it or not, they were all on a clock—Verdín was right about that and a lot of other things, unfortunately, so they needed to figure their shit out and quickly.
“We gotta go to Plan B,” Kenny said, sounding a little more desperate than he should’ve.
“I don’t have a Plan B,” Walt responded, as exhausted as Kenny was desperate. “All I got’s a fucking Plan A.”
Trujillo listened to them all descend into bickering about the details of it all. They weighed the pros and cons of staying, of moving him now. Ideas got batted back and forth like ping pong balls, just as many flaws as there were upsides, if not more of the former than the latter. Trujillo watched the divide start to form, two camps, essentially. Plan A and Plan B were both taking shape, and no matter what one they went with people were going to be pissed off. What they couldn’t afford, though, was waiting around and letting Plan C unfold, which was Verdín’s people finding them and putting an end to all of this in the worst way possible. It was the first time in a long time that Trujillo saw Javi airing on the side of caution. The agent he knew a small handful of years earlier wouldn’t have been playing it safe like that. Things change.
Apparently Walt hadn’t grown wary in the way that Javi had, not yet anyway. “Danilo, give me your blade.”
The words had hardly left Walt’s mouth and Danilo was happily obliging. It caused some protests from the group. Kenny tried to stop him with nothing to show for it. Javi spoke up too, but was silenced with a pithy comment about being a guest and not having a say in this one. Trujillo had the vague notion that he should be backing Javi, but he also couldn’t help but to think that maybe this would actually do it. So, instead, he followed Walt back into the next room. He didn’t participate in cutting Verdín’s finger off, wasn’t one of the men holding him down. But he did throw his arm out to stop Feistl who was going to try and put himself in the middle of it. He had to align himself with one half of the team eventually—he wanted to be on the half that got some fucking results.
The only problem was that Verdín held strong even through that. Eventually it was just the four of them in the room: Walt, Danilo, Verdín, and Trujillo. For a while it was silent except for the sound of Verdín’s labored breathing. When the sound shifted, and it seemed like he was going to speak up, the three of them tried not to seem too interested, didn’t want to seem too hopeful.
What came out of Verdín’s mouth next, though, wasn’t what any of them wanted to hear. Trujillo still listened, though, unable to stop himself from comparing what Verdín was saying to what all the criminals back home in Colombia had said to him over the years. There were some similarities, but there were a lot of differences, too. He watched the expression on Walt’s face, the way that it hardly shifted no matter what the man tied to the chair said. He watched Danilo’s face, too. Out of all the people Trujillo thought this man would get a reaction out of, Danilo hadn’t quite been at the top of his list, but he was feeding right into it. Maybe it was a tactic, maybe not. Trujillo didn’t know the man well enough to make that call. Walt wasn’t stepping in though, wasn’t trying to cut the conversation short, so Trujillo opted to just follow suit.
When Danilo stepped out of the room, he figured that was the end of it. Verdín must’ve thought the same because he instantly started to say how Danilo was weak. He only got a few words into his next monologue, though, before Danilo strode back into the room, lifted his gun, and fired one shot right into the man’s stomach.
Walt flinched, but his face almost immediately shifted to acceptance after the fact. Trujillo stood back, not moving one way or the other as everyone else came filing into the room. Danilo was already stepping back, hands up in surrender. Amat took the gun from him without a fight. Trujillo studied everyone’s faces, trying to gauge what was going to happen next based off that alone. One thing he did know, though, was that driving him up to the border was officially out of the question.
Trujillo watched as Walt and Danilo sat by each other, both of them calm despite the slight panic and anger coursing through the rest of their team, which now included Javi and his two agents. Neither Walt nor Danilo seemed fazed by that though. Walt, with a tone as even as anything Trujillo had ever heard, outlined when and how Verdín could choose to die, Danilo sitting by him nodding in agreement.
There was a brief moment when Trujillo thought that Verdín was going to die doing what he thought was protecting his country. It wouldn’t be the first time he saw something like that happen, men dying for nothing claiming that it was for everything. But then he caved. With a gasp and a sputter, he finally gave out a name. It wasn’t a name that Trujillo was familiar with, but other men in the room were which was all that mattered. Trujillo looked on as Walt, with hollow but almost convincingly genuine empathy, said that they were going to get Verdín some help.
He also watched on as Walt strode into the next room and made no move to do any such thing.
It was the one argument of the day that Walt had ended up losing. A few of the guys ended up loading Verdín into the car, piling in after him, and taking off towards the nearest hospital. Trujillo didn’t volunteer to be one of those people, leaving that task for one of the other agents who had more sincerity left in them than he did.
When they were gone, Trujillo made his way out into the alley between their safehouse and the next building over. It was dark, but the streetlamps threw just enough light for him to see and make his way over to where Danilo was standing. He had a fresh cigarette in his hand, the look on his face didn’t hold a single shred of remorse.
Danilo watched as Trujillo approached him, not looking to move or get out of whatever conversation that the officer was looking to have. Whatever he had to say, Danilo was sure it wouldn’t be worse than anything else he’d heard before, anything else he’d hear when the rest of his crew got back.
Trujillo kept his mouth shut. He leaned back against the wall beside Danilo, looking at him for a few more seconds before looking down at the ground beneath their feet. Danilo let out a stream of smoke with his next deep exhale. He gave him another beat or two to speak up, but when he remained silent, Danilo broke the ice for him.
“Did you come out here to scold me like your other men?” Danilo finally asked.
Trujillo chuckled and shook his head. “No.”
Danilo waited another moment for Trujillo to explain himself. The man wasn’t making any move to ask for a cigarette or light one of his own, so he didn’t join Danilo looking for a smoke break. “What, then?”
Trujillo stared hard at the ground beneath his boots for a moment before finally turning and looking Danilo in the eyes. “You remind me of someone I used to know. That’s all.”
Danilo let out a laugh. “That explains it, then.” He saw the expectant look on Trujillo’s face and did him the favor of not making him ask to elaborate. “You were calm compared to your friends in there,” he said with a nod of his head towards the safehouse. “That because of the same someone?”
Trujillo nodded, unsure of what else to say. He wasn’t certain he could get the words out even if he did know what to say anyway.
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azertyrobaz · 2 years
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End of the chase
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fan-de-closet · 11 months
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¿Quieres ampliar tu empresa y convertirte en una empresa prestadora de servicios (EPS)? Te ayudamos a obtener el permiso del MINAM o DIGESA para comercializar, recoger residuos no peligrosos (reciclables) de las #industrias, #fábricas o #minería?. RRSS reutilizables, peligrosos industrial, MATPEL y peligrosos clínicos? Contar con nuestro servicio de consultor en transporte de residuos sólidos peligrosos le permitirá reducir sus costos de logística a largo plazo. Ofrecemos soluciones de transporte con todos los permisos del MTC; eficientes que optimizan el uso de los recursos y reducen los tiempos de entrega. SERVICIOS: ✅ Manejo, Recolección, Transporte y Disposición Final de Residuos Sólidos Peligrosos, peligrosos y RRSS No Peligrosos. ✅ Comercialización: Papel, botellas de plástico PET, RAEE, PVC, Caucho, Metales, Bronce, Aluminio, Cobre, Chatarra, Polietileno. Requisitos: 👍 ♻ Empresa RUC 20 y Licencias de funcionamiento. ♻ Tipos de residuos que manipula la empresa. ♻ #Camiones, #Furgones, #Plataformas o #Baranda abiertas de 5ton: #Remolcador, #Cisternas. Whatsapp: 📲 997 382 911 Te interesaría obtener los permisos del Ministerio, MTC, DIGESA, MINAM, MINSA, SUTRAN, para transportar residuos sólidos por carretera? 😀😀 #MinisteriodelAmbiente #Peru #Lima #Arequipa #reciclaje #reciclajecreativo #reciclajetextil #reciclajecreativo #Lima #Arequipa #Piura #Cusco #Huancayo #Junin #Ayacucho #Tacna #Moquegua
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sigurism · 1 year
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Boyd Holbrook (& Pedro Pascal) Narcos 2.01 -Free at Last
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Bonus:
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Incorrect Narcos Quotes
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aaronbustamantevv · 1 year
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Empezó la travesía: Lima, Perú -> Colombia Gracias a todos por seguir el proyecto y apoyar a que el viaje pueda llevarse a cabo. Mi primera ruta fue hasta La ciudad de la eterna primavera, Trujillo. Todo viento en popa mientras empezaba los primeros 600 kilómetros del viaje más largo de mi vida. #moto #viaje #travel #pulsar180 #pulsar180neon #bajaj #bajajpulsar #lima #trujillo #lalibertad #norteperuano #road #motorcycle #motolife #igersmoto #mototurismo #motoviajeros #peruanos #sudamerica #sudamericaenmoto (en Trujillo Peru) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqRi8Let-QF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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wandering-jana · 3 months
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Tiny street in Trujillo, Spain. I loved this town, so glad I stopped.
Explore:
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pamela-valdivia · 5 months
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Ingenieros industrial y supervisor de planta en Perú. Posición estratégica para influir en el éxito de la empresa, desarrollar habilidades de liderazgo y contribuir al crecimiento económico local. Esta carrera ofrece una amplia gama de beneficios tanto profesionales como personales.
ING. INDUSTRIAL PAMELA VALDIVIA CORPORACIÓN INTERDAC LATINOAMERICANO INC. [email protected] Cel. +51 965206176
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