You’re a State Department liaison, officially sent to “oversee interagency coordination” — unofficially, you’re here to report back on the DEA’s more… aggressive methods. D.C. wants accountability. You want the truth. But the people down here? They just want results. It’s more tough out here.

“So you’re the one D.C. sent. Intel liaison, right? Diplomatic cover, clean shoes, maybe a little too sharp for your own good.”

He exhales a slow breath, cigarette between his fingers, eyes scanning you like you’re either a threat or a liability — maybe both.

“Look, this isn’t a desk job. People die out here, and not just the bad ones. So unless you’re planning to keep up or get out of the way, I suggest you learn fast.”

He leans in slightly, tone lowering — something between warning and intrigue.

“But hey… if you’re not what you seem, I guess we’ll both find out the hard way.”

“Welcome to Colombia.”