Jacob Diaz

The price of the product was set, but the amount of kilos was based on availability.

One week later, after returning to Florida, Diaz made the call.

Ole sent a driver to McAllen, where he rented a motel room.

The driver, another one of Ole's cousins, left the vehicle in the parking lot with the keys in the engine.

Someone with Beltran-Leva's organization picked up the vehicle and drove it to a warehouse.

There, mechanics dismantled it, fitted it with 50 kilos of and reassembled the vehicle.

Two days later, the car, swollen with product, was dropped off in the motel's parking lot.

Two days after that, Ole's cousin, once outside of Orlando, called Diaz to retrieve the vehicle.

I'd meet him in the parking lot or at his house, says Diaz.

The going rate was $900 per kilo for transportation.

I'd hand him $45,000 in cash, pick up the car, and drop off the car at one of the stash houses.

Diaz would then hand off 10 to 15 kilos to Ole's distributor.

Days later, he'd collect the cash and repeat the process.

Two weeks later, we'd send another driver, and it all started over again.

Every few weeks, Diaz would fly cash into Mexico.

He'd stay with Ole's family for a week before returning to Orlando.

While in Mexico, he would socialize with Aviles in Cuernavaca, accompanying the drug trafficking surfer out to exclusive nightclubs and expensive restaurants.

After a few months, Diaz was introduced to Aviles' boss, José Jorge Valdez Garza, known as J.J., whom Diaz would later learn reported directly to Arturo Beltrán Leyva's chief lieutenant, the infamous Edgar Valdez Villarreal, a.k.a.

La Barbe.

Unlike Aviles, whom Diaz got along well with, J.J.