The Making of a Narco State
by Guy Lawson
The
target of the raid was the narcotraficante known as "El Conejo"
the Rabbit. In keeping with his stature as the main supplier
of cocaine to one of Mexico's most powerful drug cartels, the Colombian
was throwing a lavish party at a sprawling mansion on the south
side of Mexico City. As always, there would be plenty of high-end
prostitutes, who served a dual purpose: They not only made money
for Conejo while they were working, they could also be sent back
to Colombia loaded down with the cash from his drug trafficking
by some accounts as much as $40 million in profits every
month.
Tipped off
by an informant, 100 federal police wearing ski masks and armed
with assault rifles descended on the mansion at one in the morning
last October, when the coke-fueled debauchery was in full swing.
Storming through the residence, the federales grabbed 11 Colombians.
They also seized every drug raid's clichèd cache: mounds
of coke, cash, guns. Afterward, the Mexican media were ushered into
the mansion to document the narco fantasia for the viewing audience
at home: the opulent gardens, the private cinema, the cages stocked
with two lions, two white tigers and two black panthers.
For once, it
seemed, the rule of law had prevailed in Mexico. After years of
watching the drug lords operate with near-total impunity, killing
and torturing thousands of victims at will, the police finally appeared
to be regaining a measure of control in the War on Drugs.
But in the
days that followed the raid, another version of the story emerged
one that betrays the lying, thieving, violent, paranoia-inducing
disaster that is the Mexican drug war. The federales, it turns out,
had turned the takedown into a violent shakedown. According to witnesses,
the police burst into the mansion screaming, "F**king bitches!
Daughters of whores! Now the real party has begun!" For the
next 24 hours, the cops went on a crime spree of their own. They
pocketed Cartier and Rolex watches, diamond rings, mounds of pesos.
They stole a honey-colored English bulldog, which was carried to
the back seat of an armored police car. They dragged the prostitutes
into the screening room and administered electric shocks to the
men. Then they filled the swimming pool with ice and forced the
men into the freezing water, as a way of extracting names and addresses
from them not to arrest other traffickers, but so police
could be dispatched to their residences to steal from them as well.
All told, seven houses were robbed of nearly $600,000. One narco
was instructed to come up with half a million dollars in cash, which
was stuffed into two Winnie the Pooh bags for delivery to the officer
in charge of the raid Gerardo Garay, the commissioner of
the federal police and head of a top-level commission charged with
punishing misconduct and rooting out corruption in Mexican law enforcement.
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the rest of the article
March
14, 2009
Copyright
© 2009 Rolling Stone
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