Jack Carlton Reed Pablo Escobar Upd -

Carlton Reed was not.

Outside, Medellín glittered like a wound that had learned to shine. jack carlton reed pablo escobar

His own son.

Jack Carlton Reed sat alone in a rented apartment overlooking the old neighborhood, a half-empty bottle of aguardiente sweating beside his laptop. He wasn’t a cop anymore. Wasn't exactly a journalist either. He was the kind of ghost that former DEA agents become: useful to some, hunted by others, invisible to most. Carlton Reed was not

The knock on the door came soft, three times. Jack didn’t turn. “It’s open.” Carlton Reed was not. Outside

“That’s not an answer.”

“You should go,” Jack said quietly.