In 2017, Netflix released Narcos, one of its most successful series. Audience demand pushed it to extend for two additional seasons. Colombia and Mexico were portrayed as the epicenter of drug trafficking during the 1970s and ’80s. For years, countless productions on other networks did something similar, exploiting the narco theme on screen. The United States appeared only in the background of these series, but none focused exclusively on exposing the country’s relationship with the drug trade. And yet Miami was as much, if not more, of an epicenter than Mexico or Colombia, thanks to the Los Muchachos cartel, founded by Willy Falcón and led at the top by his brother Gustavo “Tavy” Falcón and Salvador “Sal” Magluta.
Willy Falcón was born in Alquízar, Cuba, a town an hour from Havana. In 1967, at just twelve years old, he emigrated to Miami as part of the Freedom Flights family reunification program, which ran from 1965 to 1973. His father Arsenio, his mother Marta, and his brother Gustavo came with him. The family settled in a middle-class neighborhood that most closely resembled what they had left behind, in a city that was still largely Anglo: Little Havana.
Willy Falcón’s childhood and adolescence mirrored that of many first-generation immigrants: a small house, public school, and early work in construction to help support the household. As the Cuban community took root in its new home, the dream of reclaiming the homeland remained fiercely alive. From Miami, conspiracies and covert operations to overthrow the dictator Fidel Castro were openly discussed. Willy was not immune to those dreams. Despite his young age, the dictatorship had left a deep scar on him: he had witnessed human rights abuses, executions, and the imprisonment of family members and friends.
As a teenager, after dropping out of high school, Willy Falcón was introduced to older Cuban exiles—many of them veterans of the Bay of Pigs—who proposed that he receive a shipment of cocaine, sell it, and use the proceeds to purchase weapons for clandestine armies training in Central America with the aim of invading Cuba. Cocaine was illegal, but it was not yet perceived as the poison it is today. All of this, moreover, was carried out with the tacit approval of the CIA. Then came another shipment. And another. Demand was enormous, and sales were easy. Falcón saw a business opportunity.
That was when he established direct contact with Manuel Garcés, a Colombian twenty-seven years his senior, a smuggler and drug trafficker who opened the necessary channels in Medellín and Cali for him to consolidate himself as a direct distributor. Willy did not manage these operations alone: he surrounded himself with childhood friends from exile, among them Salvador “Sal” Magluta, who became his accountant and indispensable right hand; later, his brother Gustavo “Tavy” Falcón joined them. Thus, the Los Muchachos Corp cartel was born.
Los Muchachos grew exponentially. By 1979, they were bringing in an average of one thousand kilos of cocaine per month. This was no longer a street-level operation but an organization that functioned like a corporation. They moved from counting stacks of cash in their homes to purchasing bank-grade money-counting machines. They later financed a businessman with five million dollars to acquire a controlling stake in Sunshine State Bank, facilitating money laundering. Shell companies soon appeared in tax havens in the Bahamas and Panama, with collusion from government officials—among them Guillermo Endara, who would later assume the presidency of Panama after the fall of Manuel Antonio “Pineapple Face” Noriega.
They also acquired a ranch in Clewiston, in central Florida, complete with airstrips for their planes. The son of the town sheriff cooperated in exchange for money and cocaine, which he also sold on his own. Headquarters were established in Miami, at 1200 SW 49th Street, on a two-acre ranch in what is now known as Horse Country.
Luxury and excess arrived hand in hand with money. Willy Falcón and his circle were regular figures at the parties and orgies of the Mutiny Hotel—they invested a million dollars in the property, money they never recovered. They owned properties, luxury cars, and women. Their greatest guilty pleasure, however, was offshore powerboat racing. The competition was fierce in Miami and across the country, and Willy, Tavy, and Sal raced in every event. Their team, Seahawk, even had a company dedicated to preparing boats with the best engines and finishes.
During those years, Los Muchachos did business with the major cartels: Medellín, Cali, Sinaloa, and Juárez. But it was only with Pablo Escobar, boss of the Medellín cartel, that Willy Falcón formed a true friendship. He considered him a brother. They spent New Year’s together in suites at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, vacationed at Disney, and traveled aboard the Los Muchachos jet.
By the mid-1980s, more than eight thousand kilos of cocaine were entering the United States every six weeks. There seemed to be no limits. But behind the scenes, the government was advancing an operation to dismantle the organization. In 1982, President Ronald Reagan, after declaring the War on Drugs, announced the creation of the South Florida Task Force, led by Vice President George H. W. Bush.
At first, Falcón and Magluta underestimated the authorities. They took minimal precautions: transferring some properties, traveling with false documents—but business continued uninterrupted. Over time, the net tightened. Properties were seized, mid- and lower-level operatives began to fall. In the early 1990s, Willy Falcón, his brother Gustavo, and Sal Magluta went underground.
In October 1991, authorities raided Sal Magluta’s residence at the La Gorce condominium in Miami Beach and Willy Falcón’s home in Fort Lauderdale. Both attempted to escape, but the scale of the operation made it impossible. Gustavo Falcón, however, managed to flee.
More than five years passed before sentences were handed down. During the trial, jurors and witnesses were bribed; others were murdered; some simply refused to testify. On the streets, Falcón and Magluta were seen as benefactors. Many argued that Miami had grown and evolved thanks to them and their money.
Willy Falcón was sentenced to twenty years in prison. In 2017, after serving his sentence, he was deported and managed to avoid returning to Cuba. He currently resides somewhere in Latin America, the name of the country kept undisclosed. Sal Magluta was not as fortunate: he was sentenced to 195 years in prison.
In 2021, Netflix released the documentary Cocaine Cowboys: The Kings of Miami, which examines the Los Muchachos case. By then, Gustavo Falcón had already been arrested after spending twenty-six years on the run. Journalist T. J. English recounts in his book The Last Kilo that when Tavy watched the documentary in prison, a guard said to him, “Oh, so you wanted to be like Scarface.” Tavy replied no—that Scarface wanted to be like him.
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