"Did you send cocaine to the United States?""Jamás, jamás, jamás!" the man in the orange jumpsuit said. Never, never, never!It was 1995, and I was inside a federal prison in Miami, interviewing General Manuel Antonio Noriega in a claustrophobic cell. The Panamanian strongman was smaller than I had remembered from when I had tried—and failed—to speak to him years earlier in Panama. He didn't resemble the machete-wielding murderer the U.S. had made him out to be.