DEAL: In a deadly game of working undercover, DEA Special Agent Michael S. Vigil recounts standing face to face with treacherous drug lords who began their conversation with �If you are a federal agen

287 Pages·2014·1.84 MB·English

by  Michael S. Vigil

DEAL
IN A DEADLY GAME OF WORKING UNDERCOVER,
DEA SPECIAL AGENT MICHAEL VIGIL RECOUNTS
STANDING FACE TO FACE WITH TREACHEROUS DRUG
LORDS WHO BEGAN THEIR CONVERSATION WITH “IF
YOU ARE A SPECIAL AGENT WE WILL KILL YOU.”

Copyright © 2014 Michael S. Vigil.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-3519-0 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-4917-3521-3 (hc) ISBN: 978-1-4917-3520-6 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014909231

iUniverse rev. date: 06/24/2014
Contents
Dedication
Foreword
Chapter 1 If You Are a Federal Agent, We Will Kill You
Chapter 2 Dragnet and The Untouchables
Chapter 3 A Very Dangerous Game
Chapter 4 Facing the Feared
Chapter 5 Do Whatever It Takes
Chapter 6 Just Another Day on the Job
Chapter 7 Corruption, Power, and Greed
Chapter 8 Mexico: Where Good Guys Wear Masks
Chapter 9 Expect the Unexpected
Chapter 10 The Deal in Brazil
Chapter 11 The Lure of White-Powder Wealth
Chapter 12 A Culture of Violence and Death
Chapter 13 A Two-Million-Dollar Suitcase
Chapter 14 Paradise Cracked
Chapter 15 From Kilos to Tons
Chapter 16 Massacre on the Plain of the Viper
Chapter 17 The Devastating Heroin Flood in Texas
Chapter 18 Unlikely Partners
Chapter 19 Global Operations
Chapter 20 I Did It My Way
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my parents, Alice and Sam, whose tremendous
sacrifices and love made this a better world for my sisters and me. Their
teachings of compassion, dedication, dignity, justice, and courage became
indelible traits in my life. They provided us with the education required to
succeed in a highly competitive world. They are in my daily thoughts and deep
in my heart.
I also dedicate this book to my sisters, Anita and Mona, for all their love and
support.
And to my niece Ursula, who has made me proud with her accomplishments
and energy. She is a shining star in my life. I admire and love her
unconditionally.
The book is also in loving memory of my niece Nicole, who was taken early in
life.
For my grandchildren, Luke Edward and Sarah Claire Haynie, who make life
worth living and whose love I will treasure forever.
To my wife, Suzanne, whose love and support have been key to my life and
accomplishments.
Foreword
It is a distinct privilege to have Colombian National Police General
(Ret.) Leonardo Gallego Castrillón write the foreword to my book. He
is a legendary figure in the history of Colombia and the greatest
general to come from the ranks of the Colombian National Police. He
was responsible for many of the most significant counterdrug
operations ever conducted in Colombia. His leadership and operational
abilities are beyond reproach. I have always considered him a brother,
and I will always treasure his friendship.
During his tenure as commander of the world renowned DANTI
(Anti-Narcotics Police) he played a key role in the dismantling of the
Medellin, Cali, and Valle del Norte cartels, which were the largest and
most powerful in the world. He has served in other command positions
to include anti-terrorism and intelligence for more than twenty-five
years. General Gallego is one of the most highly decorated officers of
the Colombian National Police. He holds awards and decorations from
law-enforcement and military organizations of the United States and
other countries around the globe.
—Michael Vigil
It was an honor to work with Mike Vigil during the most difficult and violent
years in the history of Colombia. It was a time when the brutal drug-trafficking
organizations posed a significant threat to my country and also the United States.
Many individuals were tortured and murdered for simply denouncing the drug
cartels in mere conversations with other individuals. The traffickers employed
vicious killers, and they could order the death of anyone perceived as a threat to
their illicit business, with less fanfare than ordering a glass of aguardiente.
These notorious assassins charged as little as fifty US dollars for taking a human
life. It was sometimes impossible to avoid these assassins, since they pursued
their victims on motorcycles and maneuvered through heavy traffic until they
were able to direct volleys of high-velocity bullets at their human targets. Blood
flowed through the streets, and no one was safe, especially officials of the
Colombian National Police and our colleagues from the Drug Enforcement
Administration (DEA).
Mike was one of the most extraordinary and courageous warriors, who always
led from the front and never from the rear. He was always the first one through
the door on raids, which is quite a risk, since one never knows what is waiting on
the other side. Mike was willing to take those risks, which could have easily
gotten him killed, in order to protect others from harm. He knows the face of
death full well and never once flinched, despite knowing that he could be
drawing his last breath.
I worked closely with Mike, and together, we seized tons of cocaine and other
illicit drugs. Additionally, we arrested thousands of drug traffickers, many of
them cartel heads who were brought to justice in my country or the United
States. Our struggle was horrific, and it can only be described as one with “no
quarter asked for and none given.” It was one of triumph and great sacrifice. We
lost many of our close friends to the random and senseless violence generated by
narcoterrorists. We witnessed more violence than most individuals witness in a
hundred lifetimes, but we continued to pursue the drug traffickers with great
vigor, despite the constant threats.
Mike was responsible for the complex operation that resulted in the capture of
Juan Ramón Matta-Ballesteros in Cartagena, Colombia. Matta was a major
cocaine trafficker from Honduras who was married to Nancy Vasquez, a
Colombian woman from Cali. Matta was responsible for smuggling tons of
cocaine into the United States each year and was also the source of supply to the
most prolific and deadly traffickers operating in Mexico. He was involved in the
killing of DEA Agent Kiki Camarena in Guadalajara. Mike meticulously
planned and executed the operation that led to his capture. Matta offered several
millions of dollars to the agents to buy his freedom, but he ultimately knew his
opulent lifestyle was coming to an end.
Mike is truly a brilliant tactician, and he was able to initiate numerous
multinational operations, which had significant impact on the international drug
trade and facilitated the sharing of information between countries. These
operations were only made possible because of the magnificent leadership skills
possessed by Mike and [his] army of individuals who were willing to follow him
into the fires of hell with no hesitation. During the annual International Drug
Enforcement Conferences (IDEC), I watched in awe the great deference and
respect given to Mike by all of the directors of national police agencies from
around the world. They depended on his leadership and guidance on operational
matters. The representatives from the various countries actually put aside
decades and even centuries of political conflict if Mike intervened and requested
their participation in large operations. He was a formidable force of great
strength that inspired others in overcoming insurmountable obstacles.
Mike has always had the courage to stand alone in the face of adversity, the
tenacity to never succumb to pressure, and the patience to keep fighting against
all odds until the struggle is won. He refuses to accept defeat, and this defines
his leadership style. His character is also defined by humility and the ability to
make decisions under fire. Mike never demanded respect, but earned it in the
jungles of Latin America and the dark alleys of metropolitan areas. I have heard
his colleagues refer to him as a “wartime general,” and he most definitely is
worthy of the title. He bears the scars of many violent and protracted struggles
against the treacherous drug cartels. His courage exceeded normal human
boundaries, and it became psychologically intoxicating to his subordinates who,
as a result, pushed themselves above and beyond the accomplishments that they
believed themselves capable of reaching. Mike is a great hero in my country and
in the United States. He has achieved what others cannot envision.
—General Leonardo Gallego Castrillón
Director of Colombian Anti-Narcotics Police (Ret.)
Chapter 1
If You Are a Federal
Agent, We Will Kill You
Imagine a criminal foreign environment with no computers, no cell
phones, and no diplomatic protection; this was Mike’s world … this
was Mike’s playground … make a mistake, a miscalculation, or
misread the intentions of an individual, and your life ends in a blink of
an eye. Now live that life, make cases, prosecute, arrest, and produce
volumes of intelligence that to this day is the history of that threat …
and you begin to see that Mike Vigil’s journey into the depths of that
world is something that modern law enforcement will never experience
or ever see …
—L.D. Villalobos
Chief Intelligence Officer, DEA
El Paso Intelligence Center (Ret.)
The small caravan moved swiftly on the narrow, winding road. The blazing sun
beat down on the scorched Sonora Desert. Heat waves bounced off the dark,
cracked asphalt in a yellow, shimmering curtain. Most of the caravan consisted
of at least a dozen grizzled and hardened Mexican Federal Judicial Police
(MFJP) based out of Hermosillo, Sonora. They were heavily armed with 9 mm
semiautomatic handguns and their weapon of choice, the .45-caliber pistol.
Many of them also carried machine guns with long curved magazines packed
with dozens of bullets, in case fate was not kind and the afternoon turned violent
and nasty. I was leading the caravan in a truck with a large camper shell that
made steering on the winding road somewhat problematic.
The truck had been seized by the MFJP at a roadblock when they found a
couple of tons of marijuana hidden inside. The marijuana was destined for the
lucrative consumer market in the United States, where distributors would have
sold it on the streets for millions of dollars. After all, the drug trade was all about
the money. Ironically, the truck would now be used against the violent Mexican
drug traffickers, who were some of the most vicious and brutal in the world.
Accompanying me in the truck was an informant who, a week earlier, had
introduced me to a group of significant drug traffickers associated with Rafael
Caro Quintero. The organization belonging to Caro Quintero was responsible for
numerous brutal murders throughout Mexico.
The informant was short and heavyset, with thick, dark hair, and his eyes
always reflected a blank, merciless stare. He was on the periphery of the drug
trade and knew enough about the business and certain drug networks to be a
valuable source of information. He realized that it was better to provide
information and act as a mercenary than take the risk of going to jail or dying.
Jail or premature death is the typical retirement plan for drug traffickers. Of
course, he was in danger as well by acting as an informant, but to him, it was
less of a risk and the DEA was paying him decent money.
The MFJP who were part of the operation were friends of mine, and I trusted
them. I had quickly learned that when working dangerous undercover
assignments, especially in foreign countries, I was always facing death and
therefore had to be self-reliant and prepared for the unexpected. Regardless, I
knew that the MFJP had little tolerance for long surveillances. Their patience
had a very small window, and this was always a compelling concern when
working with them on undercover operations. When their impatience was at a
peak, I knew things could rapidly get out of control and I had to be prepared to
deal with the worst-case scenarios. Conversely, I knew they would not
compromise my identity. Without this trust, I could not have successfully
continued my mission. I had learned that personal relationships were the key
when working with foreign police counterparts. Professional relationships are
always important, though not sufficient without a more personal camaraderie. I
broke bread and drank with them on a regular basis. They trusted and protected
me as one of their own. Although the MFJP did not wear uniforms, it seemed as
though they all dressed in what I called the “Mexican federale couture”: tailored
leisure suits and the obligatory massive gold bracelets. Many had their names
spelled out in large diamonds. For reasons I could not fathom, they typically
emulated the typical drug trafficker’s attire of choice.
During the previous week, the informant and I traveled to a small Mexican
town called Caborca. It was a tiny village located in the northern part of the state
of Sonora. The locals were primarily farmers whose fruits and vegetables were
sold to US distributors, while the poorer-quality produce ended up in Mexican
food stores. It was a matter of economics in which the farmers were able to sell
their products at a higher price to buyers from the United States. Based on its
proximity to the US border, the town had also become a staging area for illicit
drugs smuggled into the United States through the California, Arizona, and New
Mexico border areas. Caborca was a known stronghold of Rafael Caro Quintero,