Jerry Langton Three-Book Bundle

by Jerry Langton

  But at 9:45 on the morning of October 27, a local man on a small motorcycle pulled up to the Auto Lavadas Colima (Colima Carwash) on Avenida Ignacio Potrero, a few blocks from Rio Suchiate, the main drag of the Lázaro Cárdenas neighborhood. While they were chatting outside the open-air car wash (it's really just a small cinder-block office with about 40 feet of corrugated metal leaning from its roof to a shorter building nearby and some hoses) at 9:57, three SUVs pulled up and the men inside them opened fire. The man on the motorcycle, all 13 Colima employees and a bystander who was leaving the Mini Super Lupita fruit market across the street were killed. Two other passers-by were injured.

  Of the dead, only the man at the fruit market was older than 23. According to police, most of the victims had been associated with a nearby drug rehab clinic. Social media throughout Mexico was filled with stories and speculation that the victims were killed because they refused to work with the cartels. In a speech, Calderón agreed that the three massacres were linked and that the victims were targeted because they had chosen not to be part of the drug trafficking industry. “These are acts perpetrated by unscrupulous criminals who snatch life from innocent people, most of them young people with life ahead of them, young people struggling to build a future, to overcome addictions, to study,” he said.

  Beheading the Gulf Cartel

  With little positive to report over the last violent two and a half weeks, Mexican authorities made a headlines again on November 5. After a six-month investigation, they managed to track down Antonio “Tony Tormenta” (Tony Storm) Cárdenas Guillén, leader of the Gulf Cartel, in the Fraccionamiento Victoria neighborhood of Matamoros. With a force of 150 Naval Infantry supported by a small army unit, Federales, state and local police, they moved in. When Cárdenas Guillén and his men saw three helicopters circling their hideout, they moved to another safe house, but were caught on surveillance video.

  As the land force approached, the Gulf Cartel members greeted them with assault rifle fire and grenades. Almost as soon as the battle started, area residents captured it on video and uploaded it to YouTube. Many started tweeting updates, telling relatives they were safe and warning others not to come to Matamoros. One, typical of those sent that day, read: “Shelter, everyone! Don't leave your houses please. Pass the word.” The gunfire could be heard across the Rio Grande and the University of Texas at Brownsville and Texas Southmost College told their students to go home, rescheduling several weekend events.

  After a number of his bodyguards—said to be members of Los Escorpiones—were killed. Tony Tormenta made a desperate attempt to flee. His armored SUV had been considered bulletproof, but it was no match for .50-caliber shells. Almost as soon as he turned the key, he was hit by 20 of them.

  Cárdenas Guillén was dead, as were four of his men, two Naval Infantry and journalist Carlos Guajardo Romero. A crime reporter with the local daily Expreso Matamoros, Guajardo Romero, was leaving the scene to speak with a contact in the federal government when soldiers mistook his unmarked pickup truck for that of a fleeing sicario. He too was shot 20 times.

  Records taken from the building they fled from indicated that Cárdenas Guillén had enjoyed the protection of many officials in Tamaulipas for years. Despite years of purges and desertions, as many as half of the state police were still thought to have received some kind of payment linked to the Gulf Cartel. Authorities said that leadership of the Gulf Cartel was assumed by Jorge Eduardo “El Coss” Costilla Sánchez. He was best known for a 1999 incident in which he helped detain DEA and FBI agents at gunpoint.

  November 2010 was a tumultuous time for Mexico, with crises on both coasts. Fears that oil from the Deepwater Horizon oil spill were headed towards Mexico's Gulf coast were joined by news that the Carnival Splendour—a luxury cruise ship with about 4,500 passengers and crew—was stranded without electricity, food or fresh water in the Pacific not far from Ensenada, Baja California.

  Inside the country, however, it was business as usual. Nice weather in Chihuahua on the weekend of the November 6 and 7 led to a great number of the city's residents stepping out to enjoy it. Thirty of them and 25 people in Juárez were murdered.

  The seesaw continues

  A number of announcements in November showed that there seemed to be no end in sight for the seesaw battle for control of Mexico.

  The first was a shocker from Denver on November 8. Retired fire department lieutenant David Cordova and Ronal Rocha, an assistant basketball coach at Regis University, were among 35 Sinaloa Cartel associates arrested for trafficking in a cross-border investigation. Twenty-one others were arrested in Denver, seven in Juárez, two in El Paso and one each in Alabama, Nevada and Illinois. Three other suspects were listed as fugitives. Officials seized 117 pounds of cocaine, 17 pounds of marijuana, nine firearms, $650,000 in cash and 15 vehicles. The Denver-based group operated in a number of cities, purchasing drugs from Sinaloa Cartel contacts in El Paso, then distributing it to street-level dealers. “If you purchased cocaine in the Denver area in the last two years, it's a very good probability that you purchased it from this supply chain,” said Dan Oates, chief of the Aurora, Colorado police force, which aided in the operation.

  Information from the Denver arrests allowed authorities to find and arrest Manuel “La Puerca” (the Sow) Fernández Valencia and 17 other Sinaloa Cartel members and associates. After a 20-minute standoff in Culiacán without a shot fired, La Puerca and his men surrendered. Eight tons of marijuana were found in the house. La Puerca told police that his son had been assassinated after being mistaken for El Chapo's son because he was driving a white Ferrari. El Chapo's boy had a similar-looking white Lamborghini. He also stated that a month later, El Chapo had caught and killed the murderer.

  And on the same day, Gregorio Barradas Miravete (who had recently been elected as a PAN mayor of Juan Rodríguez Clara, a largely rural municipality in the state of Veracruz) was kidnapped. He and two supporters—former PAN mayor Omar Manzur Assad and driver Ángel Landa Cárdenas—were stopped and forced out of their car by masked gunmen who had set up a military-style checkpoint just outside the village of Isla at about 4:30 p.m. The three men were then forced into the back seat of a blue-gray Hummer SUV. Their tortured bodies were found a few hours later inside the bullet-riddled truck about 60 miles away just outside the Oaxaca city of Tuxtepec. Their hands had been bound in duct tape and they were accompanied by a bright green sign. Written on it in black Sharpie was: “This is what will happen to all those who support Los Zetas.”

  Many in the area had predicted the Barradas Miravete assassination, especially after he promised a complete investigation of the transactions of outgoing PRI mayor Amanda Gasperín Bulbarela.

  Also on the November 9, U.S. inspector general Glenn A. Fine published a 138-page report on gun trafficking from the U.S. to Mexico. In it, he praised the joint ATF-Border Patrol Operation Gunrunner for seizing more than 5,400 firearms and 400,000 rounds of ammunition since 2006, but he also pointed out 15 ways to further decrease the supply that had not yet been implemented. The ATF said it welcomed the report and would consider his proposed initiatives.

  Young assassins for the cartels

  Outside of Mexico and the U.S. border states, the Mexican Drug War rarely made international headlines. Worldwide media paid attention to stories like the arrest of Valdez Villareal or the Taxco body dump and treated them almost as though they were isolated incidents. But there was one arrest on December 4 that caught the world's attention and demonstrated exactly how violent and entrenched in the culture the Mexican Drug War had become.

  The shocking video that was seen all over the world begins with two masked soldiers with bulletproof vest escorting a schoolboy out of a building at Cuernavaca Mariano Matamoros Airport and up against a brick wall. It's 9:00 p.m. and dark, but the area is well lit. The boy, who comes up the soldiers' shoulders, looks scared. He's slight, with a wide face and closely cropped curly hair. His lip is swollen and he has a bruise on his forehead. He's wearing a l
oose black shirt and baggy cotton pants. He looks for all the while like he's about to cry until he starts to answer questions with a tough-guy smirk. Though it was widely reported in the news that the boy was 12, he was actually 14, but small for his age. As reporters' cameras constantly flash and advance, he then tells the soldiers that his name is Edgar Jiménez Lugo, and that he was born in San Diego, in the U.S. He then goes on to tell a story that is both shocking and sickening. As he tells it, his smirk goes away and his voice begins to shake as though it was the first time he articulated the facts of his life to himself.

  His parents were illegal immigrants and crack addicts. When his father was arrested and sent back to Mexico, he was sent with him. Jiménez Lugo lived in a crowded home with his father, an aunt and uncle, his grandmother and five siblings. He dropped out of school after third grade. He spent his time hanging out with other boys of various ages until the gang recruited him. They trained him to be a sicario. “I participated in four executions,” he said, admitting to beheading his victims. “When we don't find the rivals, we kill innocent people, maybe a construction worker or a taxi driver.” A reporter asked him if killing people scared him. “No,” he replied. “They drugged me and forced me to do it.”

  Jiménez Lugo, better known as El Ponchis (literally, the Cloak, but it's also local slang for barrel-chested, and is a joke on how slight Jiménez Lugo was) was arrested along with his 19-year-old sister Elizabeth while attempting to board an airplane to Tijuana. Once there, they intended to cross the border on foot to join their mother in San Diego. He admitted that he worked as a sicario for the Cartel Pacifica Sur (CPS) and his boss was El Negro (whom police knew to be Jesús Radilla Hernández, leader of the CPS).and his sister, who claimed to be one of El Negro's girlfriends, was in charge of disposing of bodies. Pictures and videos on one of El Ponchis' cell phones show him posing with AK-47s and even beating tied men with a stick marked CPS, chatting and giggling the whole time. In the background of one video, as El Ponchis is beating a man suspended from the ceiling, you can hear a child singing “Hit him, hit him, hit him. Don't lose your aim”—a play on a traditional song from children's piñata parties. The victims were later identified as the men whose bodies were hanging from the overpass in Cuernavaca in August.

  El Ponchis told them that he had been kidnapped by the CPS—then the Beltrán Leyva Cartel—when he was 11 and had worked for them ever since, with a starting salary of $2,500 a murder. He, Elizabeth and 23-year-old sister Ericka were the ringleaders of a gang called Las Chabelas (the Isabels) based in Jiutepec, a poor Cuernevaca neighborhood.

  Six other men arrested in connection with the case said that it was El Ponchis who cut off the victim's heads, fingers and genitals. He denied it, but did admit to multiple murders. “I've killed four people. I slit their throats. I felt awful doing it,” he said. “They forced me, told me if I didn't do it they would kill me. I only cut their throats, but I never went to hang [bodies] from bridges, never.” Both Lugo and his sisters were convicted and imprisoned.

  One person the arrest did not shock was Morelos Attorney General Pedro Luis Benitez Velez. He told reporters that it's not uncommon for cartels to recruit children. They are easily fooled, he said, and can be coerced into violent acts without complaint. “They're persuaded to carry out terrible acts,” he said. “They don't realize what they are doing.” He also pointed out that unlike the U.S. and Canada, Mexico has no protocol for trying youths as adults. The cartels, he said, are aware of that and use children and teenagers for the dirtiest jobs, knowing they'll be free again soon. In the El Ponchis case, the maximum penalty for his actions was three years in a juvenile detention center. “Even if he killed a hundred people, the maximum he could get is three years,” said Armando Prieto, the juvenile court judge who presided over Jimenez Lugo's trial. “That's the constitution.”

  When asked about the arrest, Calderón said that “in the most violent areas of the country, there is an unending recruitment of young people without hope, without opportunities.”

  A noted Mexican psychologist told media that the whole family had been transformed into psychopaths by their environment and lack of family structure. “In this case there is no mother figure, nor a father, to guide them. There is no one to rescue them because they don't go to school, they have no master or psychologist,” said Peggy Ostrosky, head of Laboratory of Neuropsychology and Fisicopsicología of the Faculty of Psychology, National Autonomous University of Mexico. “They like to kill, to steal, and they don't need to conform to society because they are mistreated and become very hostile from a young age.” She reported that it is likely they were abused, probably sexually, at an early age and that there is no effective cure or even treatment for their mental condition.

  Mexican children's rights advocates pointed out that the drug war had led to thousands of orphans turning to street gangs for some semblance of family and security. Many of them turn to crime at very young ages. “Youth prisons in Mexico are now full of minors who have been arrested for crimes linked to the drug war. Most of the inmates had been convicted of drug-related murders, kidnapping and drug trafficking,” said Oswaldo Hogaz, Juárez prison's director of inmates. “These kids are cheap, bloodthirsty, and they know the government can't punish them much.”

  Mexican authorities released a video of El Ponchis. In the video of his confession, he looks small and thin, with his curly hair almost as wide as his narrow shoulders. They ask him how much he was paid for an assassination. He replied “$3,000 for a head.” At the end, the interviewer asked Jiménez Lugo what his future plans were. “I know what will happen to me now,” he said. “I regret getting involved in this and killing people. But when I'm released I want to go straight. I'll work, do anything, as long as it's not a return to this.”

  It might not be that easy. “Whether he's found guilty or not, he can't come back here,” said David Jiménez, his father. “The families of those he is said to have killed will want their revenge.”

  Chapter 15

  Mexican Cartel Violence Moves North

  Mainstream media in North America frequently pose questions asking when the Mexican cartels will bring their war north of the Rio Grande. The simple answer is that they already have.

  Effective law enforcement has kept much of the violence at bay, but—as Americans saw in the crack-fueled territory wars of the late '80s and early '90s—when there is competition for drug sales, violence follows.

  As early as 2008, the U.S. Department of Justice declared that Mexican cartels “are the dominant distributors of wholesale quantities of cocaine in the United States, and no other group is positioned to challenge them in the near term,” in its annual National Drug Threat Assessment. The Mexicans had in fact replaced the traditional Italian and Irish mafias and motorcycle gangs at the top of the cocaine-trafficking pyramid, and in many places, members of those groups work in the employ of Mexicans. The report linked the cartels' ascendance to a number of factors, including higher quality drugs, a seemingly unending supply of workers and the threat of violence.

  The two big differences between the drug trade in Mexico and North America are the level of violence and the widespread corruption of authorities. Despite just being a few yards away from Juárez—one of the most dangerous cities in the world—having masses of illegal immigrants and some of the most relaxed gun-control laws in the nation, El Paso is one of the safest cities in the United States. In 2010, there were 5 murders in El Paso, compared to 223 in similarly sized Baltimore, which is nowhere near Mexico and has very strict gun laws. In fact, more El Paso residents have been murdered in Juárez than in their own city in the past decade. In the same period, Juárez suffered 3,111.

  Many sociologists have attributed the comparative safety of U.S. border cities to the number of legal immigrants in them. “If you want to find a safe city, first determine the size of the immigrant population. If the immigrant community represents a large proportion of the population, you're likely in one of the count
ry's safer cities. San Diego, Laredo, El Paso—these cities are teeming with immigrants, and they're some of the safest places in the country,” said Jack Levin, a criminologist at Northeastern University. “Overall, immigrants have a stake in this country, and they recognize it. They're really an exceptional sort of American. They come here having left their family and friends back home. They come at some cost to themselves in terms of security and social relationships. They are extremely success-oriented, and adjust very well to the competitive circumstances in the United States.”

  Throughout North America, the cartels are in charge of trafficking, but we have not seen the kind of megaviolence Mexicans have. And when there has been violence—as with the five men whose throats were slashed in Hoover, Alabama—it has been carried out not just by illegal immigrants, but against them. Jack Killorin, head of the federal Atlanta High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area Task Force, said that the Atlanta area, particularly suburban Gwinnett County, is a major hub for Mexican cartels. But their presence has not affected the larger community with violence. “The same folks who are rolling heads in the streets of Ciudad Juárez are operating in Atlanta. Here, they are just better behaved,”