📸 Photo

SNOWING IN BALI

everything. The second time it was all dangerous; he went to get my passport but it was gone. My friend set fire to my passport. He was afraid. I'm very stupid, man, you know, I escaped from the airport - nobody does that - but I made a mistake to trust my Brazilian friend Dimitrius with my passport and he burnt it.

- Marco

All the dealers were feeling the white-hot heat around Marco. Those close to him were terrified of getting entangled, especially the investors. Dimitrius had agreed to hold Marco's passport for him, but with police crawling everywhere, he was petrified of being busted with it, so first tried to palm it off to Rafael, then burnt it.

He showed me. I say, 'Man, go far away from me, this passport is too hot.' He says, 'Marco told me to burn it.' I say, 'Don't burn it, man, keep it, maybe he will need it to escape, but I don't want to know. Ciao!'

- Rafael

Marco had slipped into a fake identity, calling himself Mr John Miller, a half-Mexican, half-Californian tourist. Together, he and his loyal friend and back-up horse Samuel were renting bungalows on Nusa Lembongan, an island close to Bali, and spending their days surfing, barbecuing fresh fish and lobsters, drinking white wine and beers and using cocaine and hookers, courtesy of $3000 and a bag of blow Carlino had given him.

After a few days, Marco sensed it was time to move on. They hired a small boat through a Balinese kid, Roni, who'd become their friend, and cruised to the nearby island, Gili Trawangan. Trying to create a break in their trail, they immediately took