George Jung And Pablo Escobar Novels & Stories

" He said with deep emotions, staring into my eyes so deeply. I stood on my toes, placed my hands on his chest then gave him a snuggling kiss, something that would make him feel at ease. It was a wet passionate kiss, one which normally leads to sex if care is not taken, but we had to cut it short and stop it if not we would be fucking each other's brains out near the window and in front of our boys. "Have you watched the movie Pablo Escobar? " he whispered, turning me to back him, playing with my fingernails that are right on the window glass "Nah. Leo wanted me to watch it then, I just wasn't interested. What's with Pablo Escobar?" I answered him.

This was exactly what would happen if they went home without a satisfactory decision for their superiors. "Tell you what Declon. The one figure I idolize the most is Pablo Escobar. Why? I admire him because he escaped the law for decades. You know how he was never successfully prosecuted in court. Because whoever dared to prosecute him, all of them disappeared. So much so, that even his entire family is affected. So... feel free to organize an attack for us. But I'm sure you know what I'll do before you can even set foot in this place." Everyone understood Jaxter's meaning. Looking at the man's eyes which were now so deep and serious. They could not doubt that this man's words were just a th

like a wise man, Escobar spoke in parables to confuse Dexter. "Pay attention to him, Dexter. You don't have to argue over this. Trust me, it's pointless," George spoke from inside. As much as he enjoyed how Doctor Escobar scolded Dexter, he still wanted the drama to end "Stay out of this, Dad. This has got nothing to do with you," Dexter yelled at George. Reaching out for his phone, Doctor Escobar started dialing some numbers on his phone. No one could tell what his next move was

He was hung from the ceiling, his hands and feet bound with thick ropes, his body bearing the fresh bruises of the 'hospitality' my men had shown him. I let the door shut behind me, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. Slowly, I walked up to him, doing my best to contain the urge to just kill him immediately. John walked up to me, and without hesitation relayed the much they'd gotten out of the bastard to me. "His name is George, but he's called Cobra. He's a member of Mathew's cartel." He whispered. "Is that all?" I inquired. "Yes, he won't say anything else. We've done what we can to get him to talk, but he won't say another word."John inquired, and I felt a cold smile creep

I nodded, having not been surer in anything in my life. The man he was talking about was a man named Salvador Quintanilla—a cold, mean man who worked alongside him closely. He was basically in Pablo's place, as Pablo was a wanted man to both the U.S. and Colombia that needed to lay low. Little did Pablo know, that Salvador was behind Los Tombros killing him later on that year a day after his birthday; Salvador was a rat who wanted Pablo's position since the beginning. I watched it on the news when it happened. The bullet that killed Pablo went through his ear, but Salvador insisted that he killed himself before Los Tombros could do it.