Jack Carlton Reed Pablo Escobar May 2026

“You should go,” Jack said quietly.

Jack laughed—a dry, broken sound. “You rehearsed that speech.” jack carlton reed pablo escobar

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. “You should go,” Jack said quietly

The file on his screen flickered. A grainy photo from 1991. Pablo Escobar , smiling like a man who had never heard the word "extradition." “You should go