Blindfolded and disoriented, Miguel and Gonzalo are pulled out of the cargo van. The zip ties dig into their wrists, leaving their skin red and raw. After an hour of grueling questioning, they were blindfolded, lead out of the camp, and loaded into the back of a van, which then took them to this new mysterious location. Miguel does everything he can to figure out where he is, attempting to decipher the smells and sounds. He's grateful to be out of the vehicle and away from the vulgar stench of his comrade's urin. Within minutes of being shoved into the back of the van, Gonzalo pissed himself as he wept in the dark.

Miguel listens to the soft crunch of dirt under his feet as he shuffles forward. He hears birds in the distance and insects buzzing - Jungle. The lack of civilization audible to his ears is a familiar experience. He has spent several years working for the cartel - much of it deep in the thick jungle. He knows its sounds and smells very well.

Gonzalo is emotionally exhausted and embarrassed. After witnessing the deaths of several men within minutes, his mind is inconsolable. He can only think of his own impending death or torture. Who are these men? What do they want? What will they do to him?

Miguel and Gonzalo are ushered into an unknown facility, still unable to see their surroundings. Their shoes echo against concrete. The structure sounds solid, much like a bunker. After a couple turns down the hallway, they are pushed through another door and then a few feet forward and around another corner. Finally, their blindfolds are removed to behold their new home - a prison.

Two commandos stand outside, while one cuts through the restraints. He then exits the prison cell. The masked man shuts the door with an echoing clank. Concrete walls separating them from the outside world and iron bars blockade them in the cramped cell. The two prisoners quickly see they are not alone; three other men in the cell next to them, eye the newcomers, separated by the iron bars. Miguel squints. He immediately recognizes the faces.

"Miguel?" asks a soft voice from the neighboring cell.

Miguel locks his eyes on a familiar face he replies, "Louis!"

The masked men ensure the cell door is secure and then turn to exit the room, through another door.

Miguel rushes to the bars and reaches out to his friend. "I heard you were missing. We were all so worried!" The two men embrace one another through the iron bars. Miguel's spirits are briefly lifted. "What happened?" he asks, pulling away from Louis.

"I'm assuming the same thing that happened to you, hombre" replies Louis. He wears a white tank top and green gym shorts. His feet are bare and coated in filth. "Who's this?" he asks, gesturing to the Gonzalo, standing on the other side of the cell.

Miguel looks over his shoulder at him and then back to Louis. "New guy - Gonzalo. He's been with us for about a week."

"Pretty shitty way to start, yeah?" asks Louis, as he chuckles.

Gonzalo says nothing. He stares at the ground and wraps his arms around his body, trying to comfort himself.

Louis examines Gonzalo. "Hey, did you piss yourself?" Gonzalo avoids eye contact, ashamed of his own body's reaction to the stress. Louis lets off another short chuckle.

"Let him be," says Miguel. "Tell me what happened."

Louis' expression turns serious. "They grabbed me at my house," he says. "I was high as shit. No clue what was going on."

"What about you guys?" asks Miguel, turning his attention to the other two prisoners, Christopher and Jorge.

"We were on a shipment," replies Christopher. His T-shirt is stained with a splatter of blood and his long jet black hair is pulled up in a loose ponytail. "We were packing up the boat when those assholes busted in. They killed two of our guys."

"Si, it was over in like a few seconds," adds Jorge. He's a pudgy man and quite shorter than Christopher.

"What about you?" Louis asks Miguel. "Were you at the lab?"

"Si," Miguel replies, quickly. "They killed everyone else."

Louis steps back as he contemplates all the men who have died. "Pedro?" he asks.

"Si," Miguel answers. "Executed him right next to me."

Louis thinks about it, before shrugging. "Well, he was always kind of an dick, anyway."

"But he was one of us," replies Miguel. "We've been dropping like flies. Mostly around Caracas."

"I know," responds Louis. "I know."

The five men stand in silence as they think of those who have died. Their thoughts then turn to themselves.

"What do they want with us?" asks Miguel. "Who are these men? Who do they work for?"

Louis shrugs. "Wish I knew. But I would bet money they work for that asshole, Perez."

Miguel takes a moment to consider Louis' suspicion. "It's really the only thing that makes sense," he finally says. "Unless they're competition."

Louis shakes his head. "I don't know... Maybe," he says.

Miguel feels a cold shiver down his spine. He witnessed these men in combat. They're skilled and seasoned fighters. They're clearly running a smooth operation. If they're acting outside the law, they have no limits to what they're capable of or what they're willing to do. Cartel members have been disappearing and no one has answers. But all the clues point to one man.