Sicario, a work like any other
About fifty kilometers south of the Caribbean Sea coast, amid the alluvial forests of the Sula Valley, lies what is known as "the murder capital of the world." San Pedro Sula, Honduras' second-largest city, is plagued by the endemic violence of gang members.
Taxi driver, barber, or funeral director by day. Sicario (hitman) by night. In Honduras, having a second job makes life easier, especially when a single assignment can pay up to 10,000 dollars. Of course, you don't get to eliminate a politician who has become troublesome to the drug cartels or too close to the interests of the gringos every day, but payment is as certain as death. And so is the promise of a tattoo, even for less prestigious jobs like extortion, drug dealing, or petty local theft. For those who choose this profession, a 9mm or a .38 caliber pistol becomes a constant companion because belonging to powerful gangs like Los Cachiros or the Cartel del Atlántico doesn’t always guarantee protection.
Danger is a constant companion in a hitman's life. Just walking into an area controlled by a rival gang can mean immediate death. The outskirts of San Pedro Sula top the list of the most dangerous places in the world. The city's homicide rate stands at 111 homicides per 100,000 inhabitants, compared to 4.9 per 100,000 in the U.S. It’s an endless stretch of shacks and muddy lanes, where the only lights illuminating the night are those of police sirens or searchlights used to identify yet another body—often far too young.
The sicario’s path is a dead-end road. When you grow up without a mother or father, without education or money, the gang quickly becomes your family. It feeds you and protects you, but everything has a price, and every debt must eventually be paid. Leaving this life is not an option. Some bonds in Honduras are so tight they can only be broken by death.
This profession marks the cruelest frontier of human rights neglect in the country: money is the sole reason to kill. Hitmen are both feared and revered, and they hold a high social status in the criminal geographies of Latin America. Their ferocity and disregard for danger are pillars of the symbolic mythology of the vida loca.
