The author is particularly indebted to one of the twenty-two indictees in the Aguirre case, erroneously charged and later exonerated during the height of the fast-moving events described in this volume. Copious documentation from the initial investigatory stage, the trial phase, and the aftermath was made available to the author, and, although, not all of it was utilized, an effort to remain faithful to intent and content, whenever feasible, was forthcoming.

October Raids is comprised of anecdotal episodes, judiciously juxtaposed, many of which actually occurred as portrayed, others of which are somewhat dramatized to retain the authentic flavor of events characterizing the Aguirre Operation.

In the manner of Dreiser, perhaps, and Steinbeck, although obviously the author cannot even remotely claim to reflect the stylistic achievements of these two accomplished artists, what may pass for "reportorial realism" within a postmodern framework has been, at very least, attempted.

During an intensive and eclectic period of literary training in British Columbia, New Brunswick, Colorado, California, New England, Algeria, Zaire and Congo-Brazzaville, the writer, born in Massachusetts, has developed something of an internationalist, academic overlay in tone and syntactical orientation. For this, if it may be misconstrued as pomposity, he apologizes profusely.

Indeed, this modest volume should appeal largely to those serious readers of slightly "exotic", yet thoroughly riveting prose centered on a compelling social issue. The injustices portrayed in October Raids expose contemporary, archetypal American phenomena which must be redressed if even a modicum of egalitarian decency, reflective of the Founding Principles of this Nation, is to be salvaged.

Nonetheless, it is indispensable to recognize that, although this text occasionally rises to rhetorical summits, points "colorfully phrased" are not to be construed as an attack on American values as a whole, or on the American system which, for all of its flaws and injustices, is still one of the more reasonable approaches to "public administration" devised by the Western mind.

The author remains grateful to all of his sources, the majority of whom must cloak themselves in anonymity, especially those in the Juarez / Las Cruces Corridor, and sincerely anticipates that the reader, once having fastened his seat-belt, may truly enjoy a singular experience within the very heart of the Borderland's sub-rosa narco-world of intrigue, graft and collusion, thrusting directly into the underbelly of the Southwest's power structure.

New Mexico has been swept up in a dramatic series of events throughout the last three years. Implications within judicial, financial and bureaucratic circles have been enormous. Involved is a particularly irrepressible form of human behavior: corruption. It would seem perfectly normal from a psychological perspective to anticipate that, if known criminals are susceptible to corrupt practices -- embezzlement, laundering, larceny and influence-peddling -- then, all things being equal, from a behavioral point of view, so too might a percentage of honest, above-board and otherwise perfectly decent professionals be tempted to dip into the trough of illicit funds widely available in the Land of Enchantment. And, indeed, why not? Tens of millions of dollars are flowing Northward in proceeds from questionable transactions. Temptation abounds and, as we all know, jobs, opportunity and profitable activity, all legitimate, are limited in these times of hardship. At least three other states are vying for a Spaceport, along with New Mexico. Major project activity, in terms of construction, infrastructural improvements or new industrial facilities, is unlikely to materialize on a large scale in New Mexico this decade. Dubious sources of funding, unquestioned by most astute businessmen, are, on the contrary, readily available.

This was the case as early as October 1988 when, four years prior to a series of arrests, a number of businessmen, store owners and entrepreneurs in Deming and Las Cruces elected to "turn a blind eye" to the source of funds which fed their families, paid their mortgages and sustained their professional and recreational activities. This scenario is occurring, of course, across the United States where the Anglo-Saxon work ethic and Judeo-Christian code of conduct have long since been considered by sociologists as belonging to the "First Ice Age" of societal values. Perhaps, therefore, we cannot really blame these men of Southern New Mexico where conditions of life are harsher than elsewhere. Children must be fed, schools financed and municipal officials paid.

The man at the center of this controversy, Gabriel "Coku" Aguirre, arrested in the Fall of 1992, along with a coterie of close associates, was a well-intentioned individual providing a "service for society" -- a service considered eminently legal in most of the world's nations -- and distributing profits to support business activity which could not have been sustained under the hard and fast rules of American capitalistic enterprise, controlled by the SEC, IRS, Ways and Means Committee, Statute after Statute, Ordinance after Ordinance. Indeed, Mr. Aguirre dealing in a commodity, marijuana, far less injurious than the principal substances imported through Medillin, Cartagena, and Cali, was able to amass several million dollars in proceeds, 1.7 million of which was actually buried, intact, in a local backyard! His success was doubtless the source of considerable attention...and envy.

It is disturbing to state, from an exclusively juridical point of view, that Mr. Aguirre and associates were, although on the margins of legitimacy by U.S. standards, and perfectly legal by other standards, actually deemed "criminals" by overly zealous Government Agents, a manifestly unfair characterization. Drawn into this "criminal network", however, were others...who, realizing that the War on Drugs was being lost, decided to profit at the potential expense of the lives of their professional associates, all D.E.A. or Law Enforcement personnel!

One Agent of the D.E.A., as readers of New Mexico's major newspapers are aware, a Mr. John Garza, was known to have leaked information concerning the October raid to intermediaries within the distribution network. Mr. Daniel Maynes, then employed at the Blue Moon Bar & Grill in Radium Springs, was of pivotal importance in determining the nature, magnitude and extent of the complex series of indictments, arrests and trials which have intrigued -- and concerned -- the people of New Mexico for some three years. The stakes were high, and the corruption among high-placed officials endemic.

This is the story, behind the scenes, of what actually transpired, the deals cut, the white-washing, the dynamics of protection, of power, of greed. The price New Mexicans, and all Americans, are being asked to shoulder, because of police corruption, judicial malfeasance and abuse of power, is not only exorbitant, but intolerable.

The use of drugs to alter feelings is certainly not new. Opiates, and less potent substances, have been in use throughout the Orient for roughly -- psychologists and sociologists acknowledge -- 5000 years. The American Indian and, in contemporary times the modern adolescent have extensive histories of drug utilization. Additionally, psychotropic or neuroleptic substances are consumed in religious ceremonies, along with alcohol in the form of wine. It is widely accepted that the use of relatively innocuous marijuana, the substance involved in the generation of millions of dollars in revenue by Mr. Aguirre throughout Southern New Mexico during a 3 or 4 year period, is reported to be as high as 30 or 40% in junior high school and 80% or more at the college level. When compared with alcohol, nicotine and caffeine, the dangers of marijuana, in most surveys given to high school students, are considered "high" by only 13% of the students.

Surely, in light of radical changes in American societal standards, both among the nation's youthful and adult population, the on-going persecution, and prosecution, of traffickers must be eliminated. While laws remain on the books forbidding the cultivation of cannabis, money -- unfairly considered "illicit" -- will continue to be generated on a sub-rosa basis. Perhaps under these circumstances, it is financially to everyone's advantage that the sale of marijuana remains illegal! The judicial apparatus profits, the population is served, and distributors profit in the short and medium term, even if they are subject to investigation and possible incarceration. But there is a flip-side to this coin as well.

Our existing laws -- unevenly enforced -- could destroy the lives and careers of countless hundreds of thousands of professionals, young and upwardly mobile. If evenly enforced -- an impossibility -- prisons would be bursting at the seams, and society would grind to a halt as virtually 80% of college graduates were removed from professional duties around the nation. Police and law enforcement authorities at all levels would be paralyzed by the investigation of petty offenses, and major hard-core criminals would go undetected, to the public's detriment. This unhappy scenario, described here in hypothetical terms, is actually materializing, in part, as our manuscript goes to press.

In essence, the dynamics of these laws could affect the welfare of an entire generation, threatening (whichever path is chosen...legalization or illegalization) the continuity of American society as we have known it during the Post-war Era.

In modern times, most users of marijuana live at home and consume cannabis more frequently, and more regularly, than so-called "curious, one-time" experimenters. The market in New Mexico, throughout the Southwest and across much of the U.S. and Canada, is vast and cuts clearly across class lines.

Furthermore, the role of television and the mass media is crucial in the promotion of the drug-oriented, jet-setting, fashionable lifestyle sought by the country's youthful generation. How can a great country create, sustain and promote a double standard? By overtly publicizing the merits and advantages of conforming to group behavior, on the one hand, and passing legislation against the very activity being publicized, on the other, young people are being sent a destabilizing message.

On a more damaging plane, families are being torn apart by conflicting values as well. Bonds of trust are weakened by confusion and uncertainty. Indeed, it is very important to develop a society where standing legislation reflects honestly the values being practiced.

If all of this were true, if marijuana were accepted, perhaps through benign neglect of the law on the part of enforcement authorities, the Aguirre trial might not have occurred. Months, in fact years, of litigation would have been avoided and millions of dollars -- taken out of the hands of businessmen who were recycling the proceeds into the community -- might still be in the private sector, stimulating job growth and building lives. As it is, this cash is either stashed in Chihuahuan towns, in clandestine refrigerated warehouses, preventing actual rotting of tens of millions of dollars in twenties, fifties and hundreds, or in government coffers awaiting reallocation for expansion of the bureaucracy.

It is crucial to appreciate that, given the history of marijuana usage, its widespread popularity, its medical advantages and relative availability, this particular commodity is not the one which should have been targeted in the October 1992 indictment.

A wide variety of irregularities are to be noted in the preparation of charges, in the targeting of certain individuals, and not others, and in the intensity and brutality with which government officials ultimately enforced essentially unenforceable legislation. These irregularities must be recorded in this document in a detailed fashion, countering the illogical, biased and fractional approach adopted by Federal Agents.

Of particular note, of course, will be the underlying motivations, jealousies and prejudices of those officials who selected, pin-pointed and investigated defendants for this case.

The sorry combination of bad legislation, overly zealous functionaries and the massive apparatus of state crushed a score of relatively insignificant and essentially ordinary individuals who were simply attempting to survive as best they could under poor economic conditions (unlikely to improve), through the meeting of technically "illegal" markets, but markets so widely disseminated, and so deeply entrenched that existing legislation -- under which these defendants are still being prosecuted -- no longer reflected the realities of everyday living conditions in Southern New Mexico. How ironic that bankers, police officials, lawyers and dozens of high-ranking bureaucrats have profited from the entrepreneurial efforts of persons who wished to build businesses, educate their children and attend church.

Scattered clouds punctuated the horizon over Columbus on the evening of December 23, 1991, as the last glimmers of light reflected off scrub brush, mesquite and yucca, producing an ethereal effect of subdued pinks, yellows and pastel grays. Jack-rabbits posed almost classically against a backdrop of desert hillocks and arroyos. This was the land once invaded by Pancho Villa at the turn of the century, an untamed and still wild stretch of territory claimed, for traditional and historical reasons, by both the United States and Mexico. If Mexico has officially abandoned claim to her remote Northern territory, tucked into the "Gadsden Purchase", it is only for political reasons. In fact, the residents of the Borderlands are vehement. This is still Mexican soil, the land of ancestral toil, the land of forefathers revered and honored. And this territory is, in fact, treated by Mexican-Americans as legitimately theirs. Campesinos, Indios, Chicanos, Trafficantes, Braceros, Mercantes and Patrones, crossing all class lines, have an established stake in the rugged hills and badlands of the Northern Chihuahuan Desert, a land of mystery, intrigue and danger as late as 1995.

Across an uninterrupted panorama of outcroppings, dwarf pines, and flowering desert specimens of uncommon beauty and brilliance, an occasional gliding red-tailed hawk can be seen to swoop majestically, protective of its nesting grounds and vital space. Competition among predators for the elusive rodents and reptilian lifeforms of this arid landscape is fierce.

The flora and fauna of the Borderlands feature species and varieties as exotic as any far-off land; but the laws of nature prevail here, too. The aggressive species dominate and survive, while the less-able perish under harsh and unyielding conditions. Those who have spent their childhood in Southern New Mexico are aware of the massive clash between cultures, of the innate hostility and enmity which rose within the hearts of native Mexicans as their lands were conquered, bartered and squandered by White settlers whose values were so different, whose codes of conduct and social structure callously mirrored those of foreign lands, alien to the customs of the Southwest. This cultural distance was magnified as Wars were fought, as Mexicans and Americans alike died to establish borders and a national identity. Most of the treaties signed were disproportionately favorable to the United States, the conqueror, whose technology and sheer manpower brought the Mexican Armed Forces ultimately to their knees, after bitter and prolonged fighting. Even today, many Mexicans refuse to recognize and accept these Wars, Treaties and Pacts. Their Resistance takes the form of socio-economic warfare, surreptiously waged and intelligently disguised. The "warriors" of today are no less than narco-trafficantes, waging battle on the economic front for personal gain, but also for politico-historical reasons.

The small band of men, whose caravan of late-model, all-terrain Izuzus and Land Rovers negotiated the shifting sands of this seldom travelled dirt track east of Columbus, sheltered from sight by a line of intervening vegetation and craggy bluffs, was comprised of just such "warriors", equipped to deal with any contingency in the desolate badlands of the U.S.-Mexican Border.

The sun's rays were dipping impressively below the horizon as these seasoned smugglers adjusted their night-vision goggles and activated state-of-the-art, infra-red sensing devices, warning them, at distances of up to 2000 feet, of obstacles in the road or of the presence of intruding vehicles. The most advanced technology was at their disposal and, money being readily available, the most experienced of men were "on board", two of them former U.S. Marines trained in the use of night-detection devices, navigational technology, explosives and light weaponry.

Although U.S. Border Patrol Agents were within two miles of this clandestine smuggling route, newly forged by the Chihuahuan-based group after careful reflection and analysis of all crucial topographic factors, they were naively misled by planted misinformation from a normally "reliable" source and, as darkness settled over the valley, most of their vehicles, pale green Blazers, often plagued with mechanical flaws and shoddy maintenance work, were cruising lazily along the perimeter of a washed-out gully. The smuggler's caravan was, therefore, well beyond range of Border Patrol detection equipment. In times of increased activity along the Border, Agents sometimes used their Bell Jet Ranger helicopter, well equipped to detect movement in off-limits areas. Tonight, as the narco-trafficantes knew very well, the Ranger was circling over a blockade, widely publicized, in not too distant El Paso, striking fear, with its high-powered, carbon-arc beam, into the dozens of "mojados" who might be otherwise tempted to jump the border.

The caravan slowed to less than fifteen miles an hour. All four vehicles, each laden with five 120 pound sacks of Premium Sinaloan Marijuana, representing a king's ransom in street prices, rocked slightly as they hit softer sand. Careful shifting of gears and expert maintaining of momentum avoided bogging down in the loose earth. All four drivers were aware that minutes earlier they had crossed the International Border and were now subject to interception at any moment.

Tension rose measurably as the cloudcover drifted into a pattern exposing the first rays of the last quarter moon, which cast a pall of indigo blue across the bleak desert landscape, now eerily silent, the song of Chihuahuan cicadas breaking the muffled sound of precision tuned Land Rovers and Izuzus only occasionally.

This band of intrepid souls was connected with a major businessman in the Deming, New Mexico area. A town known for its Annual Duck Race, a Green Chile Festival and a Rail Head served by AMTRAK's Sunset Limited out of Los Angeles en route to Miami. But those two cities had nothing in common, at least on the surface, with the sleepy little community of Deming, which sports a burned out hotel in the downtown sector, an aging KMart, now replaced by a more modern structure, and a bevy of shops catering to whims and fancies.

Deming's banker of note, ultimately implicated by association in the laundering scandal which rocked the Land of Enchantment, was actually one of three central figures within the Aguirre Operation, passing intelligence, fending off unwanted probes and attending the Evangelical Services offered at the FourSquare Gospel Church located on the corner of Second and Madero.

Along with Gabriel Aguirre, the generous and amiable Godfather of this organization, the banker was considered a quintessential paragon of discretion. His staff, all recruited from among the ranks of families who had long since learned the "art of compromise", were indisputably efficient, mathematically astute and as absolutely immoral as their profession demanded. Whether the tens of thousands of dollars deposited in twenties, fifties and hundreds smelled of rot and decay, whether the depositors themselves were literally dusting off their chaps from a rough crossing the night before, whether the BMW 320i's, Jag XKEs, or Customized TransAms which graced their deposit windows seemed just a little "obvious", these tellers, thinking primarily of their Max Factor PastelHued Nail Polish, Maybelline Eye Shadow and Coco Chanel Eau de Toilette, accepted each deposit with a graceful smile and a friendly greeting. This is simply a reflection of basic human nature, a replication of primate primping and grooming recognized by Twentieth Century socioanthropologists and criminal specialists all across America.

Quite naturally, the argument here is: while Mexico, a country capitalizing on its geographic position and Godgiven resources, may be supplying the commodities in question, the United States is doing virtually nothing to attenuate demand.

The infrared mercenaries were now approaching a washed out ravine just west of the Alamo Hueco Mountains where two smuggling routes converged. They had instructions to proceed throughout the night at lowspeed, avoiding detection by INS blimplike aerostat devices positioned 7500 feet above the desert, at 200 mile intervals along the border, until morning, when, splitting into inconspicuous groups of two vehicles, they would brave a major civilian artery and make delivery to a Cold Storage Facility, off a dirt road, near abandoned railsidings at the East End of Deming.

Through an ingenious system of "incentive payments" and loyal informants, the Aguirre Organization had achieved virtual command of all information relating to transportation via freight train, longhaul trucking and private auto traffic destined for a variety of U.S. cities to the North and West, with interconnections to major Canadian markets in Toronto, Montreal and Winnipeg. An entire generation of truckers, freight haulers and tourists had no moral qualms about transporting a commodity so highly sought, so innocuous and so profitable.

The rationale underpinning their willingness to participate was actually quite simple. Most of the world's countries had considered cannabis a mild, nonaddictive herb with a number of redeeming sociomedicinal uses.

As Paul unloaded his fourth 120 pound sack onto the concrete floor of the warehouse, he sighed audibly, relieved that nothing had gone amiss in the last twelve hours since making his connection in Casa Grandes, well south of Palomas deep in Chihuahua State. He was contemplating his next rendezvous with the unsuspecting daughter of a respectable rancher, who had found his machismo appealing.

During these social opportunities with JoAnne, Paul was able to achieve a number of objectives. The obvious carnal angle was played to the maximum; but intelligence was also gathered on range conditions, fencing, secondary and tertiary ranch roads, Border Patrol movements on her father's property, and the likelihood of semipermanent camping in certain remote areas. This was the wellknown Victorio Ranch abutting the Mexican Border in the extreme southwest of Luna County, with appendages extending into Hidalgo County, southeast of Hachita in the Apache Hills.

The entire Hachita Valley, with emphasis on Sierra Rica and the Big Hachet Mountains, at varying times of the year, depending on Border Patrol Activity and livestock movements, was prime territory for the Organization's purposes. Paul's contacts with the ranchowner's daughter and his insight into terrain, topography and weather patterns represented rich sources of data, potentially rewarding.

In fact, Paul Alaman's training in the Marine Corps equipped him with a sense of "energetic pursuit of detail" enabling him to succeed where others had failed. He once led a platoon into the dense undergrowth of the Mekong Delta, emerging triumphant with one casualty and nearly two dozen Viet Cong intruders. His skills under pressure had been honed to nearperfection, and were eminently appreciated by Mr. Aguirre's associates.

Now, the last 120 pound sack had been positioned on a warehouse pallet, disguised among several other burlap bags of dried cornmeal destined for livestock consumption. Paul moved toward the main door of the building, only a portion of which was used for cold storage, glancing back at the array of sacks he had stored, contrasting the pattern with past arrangements. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the"Daily Headlight", Deming's answer to journalism, and perused the entertainment page for a movie in "Cruces" that might, just might, appeal to JoAnne.

The Portland Cement Batching Plant operated by the youngest brotherinlaw of Gabriel Aguirre churned routinely on the southern outskirts of Deming, enclosed by a symmetrically implanted Cyclone Fence perimeter featuring a large, metallic swinging gate which opened every thirty minutes to accommodate a concretestarved mixer of gigantic capacity. The winter sun did not seem to affect the four workers, two of whom were assigned to the shadows of massive twin hoppers containing the product in its initial stages of processing; they were used to the far more torrid heat of June and July. December, on the other hand, was the stuff of Christmas and merriment. And, in fact, these men's thoughts were directed toward the list of gifts they had compiled for their children and relatives.

In a diminutive control house, beneath the Gargantuan hoppers, a lone figure operated levers controlling an admixture of chemicals necessary for ensuring proper tensile strength, pouring and curing of the finished product. Because he was fully 200 feet from the mobile Trailer housing the site's office, a small intercom buzzed annoyingly inside the control hut informing him that he had a phone call in the manager's office. He positioned two institutional green levers controlling outflow in the "neutral" position, walked briskly across the site, mounted the temporary wooden steps leading to the trailer, and impatiently grabbed the receiver which had been resting on a pile of blueprints to the left of the door.

"Miguel, this is Paul. We've added a few sacks of dried meal to bolster our winter supply over a t the main storage sheds. Thought you should know." Paul's voice assumed the deep tones of an assertive business agent. "There's a hefty order over in Lordsburg which needs to be taken care of," he added, "right away, if you can."

"Paul, for God's sake, I'm up to my 'culo' in lye and slime over here and will be tied up until at least 7:30. And it's practically Christmas Eve," he argued. But, I'll see what I can do; meet you at Chuck's Pizza in an hour." He waited for Paul's acknowledgment and hung up abruptly.

Within the Organization, news of a successful haul was spreading quickly. Like soaring eagles descending on easy prey, the main operators had sprung into action, perceiving profit in almost every local deal available. And, they hadn't wasted too much time merely thinking about outofstate prospects. With uncommon efficiency, they had dispatched coded messages via Email and Overnight Express correspondence to the four points of the compass. The scope and magnitude of their efforts were truly worthy of note, it was later asserted in the trials that ensued.

The natural ease and sense of relaxation which typified these transactions were actually reassuring to all those associated with them. No arrests had been plaguing this operation, as had been the case in San Diego and Houston. The inconspicuous location, the limited manpower of Federal Agents in this area and the vast open spaces lent an air of invulnerability. Deming was enjoying paradise, profit, and pleasure.

As arrangements were made to distribute this prized commodity imported via the Apache Hills, others in Deming and Las Cruces were well aware of the extent of the successful run. In fact, behind the scenes, many of them had actually coordinated the operation's timing, protected various aspects of the foray, or had dealt directly with the Sinaloan source, the Carreon Brothers. Indeed, as a result of their efforts, over two thousand pounds of Premium Grade marijuana was poised, for only a day or two, in the Deming Cold Storage warehouse set aside periodically for just such shipments.

John Garza, D.E.A. Agent, a pivotal character in the scenario about to be played, typified the mentality of 20th Century Law Enforcement in the United States. On the one hand, he answered to U.S. Attorney Svet for the District of New Mexico; on the other, he was sleeping with the buxom niece of a peripheral, but influential, figure who was, at that point in time, managing the Blue Moon Bar in Radium Springs. Agent Garza routinely passed information through this attractive Hispanic bachelorette, Christina, to the Aguirre Organization. All things considered, Garza could be described as the quintessential Agent: selfseeking, avaricious, morally compromised, selfempowering and unarguably corrupt. He was the fallguy ultimately "fingered" by a peripheral element of Aguirre's Operation. But, while he was unquestionably guilty, as will be amply demonstrated, he managed to avoid imprisonment simply because he knew far too much about deeper malfeasance within the D.E.A.

In point of fact, his fellow agents were providing Garza with detailed intelligence in exchange for a percentage of the illicit funds being offered by Aguirre's contacts.

Christina, a New Mexico State University student delicately straddling these Machiavellian plots and counterplots, was soliciting upwards of $100, 000 from the Organization for providing them with schedules of the now wellpublicized October Raids, and other vital intelligence, which Garza was passing to her with the enthusiastic assistance of his colleagues! Christina was well associated with more people on both sides of the proverbial fence than many young ladies her age. She differed from the average college coed, financially pressured into marginal activity, in that her Organizational connections were predicated on lifetime acquaintances and were founded on close ties with circles of friends who had grown up on both sides of the Border.

Ultimately, because of high profile visibility and obvious interconnectedness with both the corrupt D.E.A. Agent and the Trafficking Organization, the F.B.I.,splicing together most major pieces of this story, unearthed linkages involved in the transmittal of data from the Department of Justice to Aguirre, and arrested Christina in the vicinity of Kent Hall on the NMSU campus during the approximate time frame of the October Raids themselves.

Other relationships came to light as a result of Christina's testimony, including the name of Gabriel Aguirre's girlfriend, Sonia, who, indirectly, had also been drawn into the web of communication and collusion. These events, interwoven with the rich texture of this narrative, will be touched upon far more thoroughly in the pages ahead.

Deming was soon to become the focal point of a U.S. Justice Department probe NOT because investigators had suddenly uncovered massive evidence of trafficking activity and were morally outraged. On the contrary, many of these Government Officials had been participating in the joyous boom of Luna County for some years. Actually, what had transpired was of an internal nature. Justice Department Memoranda, such as the one penned and issued in 1990, were beginning to pressure local New Mexico staff to increase revenue through seizure of cash, real property or merchandise purchased with ostensibly drugrelated funds, whether or not Fourth Amendment and Eighth Amendment rights were violated. "We must significantly increase production to reach our target. Failure to achieve the $470 million projection would expose the Department's forfeiture program to criticism and undermine confidence in our budget projections. Every effort must be made to increase forfeiture income during the remaining three months of fiscal 1990.

The polemics of this policy should not constitute the focus of our attention here, except to say that in a widely disseminated decision handed down in 1993, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that seizure of a trafficker's home is unconstitutional in the absence of a predeprivation notice and/or an opportunity for the property owner to challenge seizure in a Court of Law. Even if these opportunities are afforded the property owner, it is highly dubious whether constitutionality is achieved because the Eighth Amendment bans "excessive fines," the decision affirmed.

During the F.B.I. debriefing of Sonia, Gabriel and Christina, evidence emerged which would have shocked the public. Christina had apparently been amorously involved with the Las Cruces District Attorney, gleaning intelligence and obtaining shielding for certain operations fanning out from the Mesilla Valley area. These spectacular linkages, which, for obvious partisan political reasons, were never revealed to a trusting and naive public, surfaced during dramatic interrogation sessions and were, in fact, later confirmed on the basis of substantiating details given by Sonia and Christina, among other witnesses, whose pretrial depositions were in some cases suppressed.

U.S. Attorney Svet was also shocked to learn that rot had penetrated deep into the D.E.A., contaminating some of his most "astute and devoted" agents. Svet never publicly admitted involvement beyond Garza, whom he loathed, but, at this point, was worried about his own professional image, reputation and future within the Justice Department if he acknowledged that several critically placed Agents had been dipping into the trough of Mexican Greenbacks.

It was largely for this reason that he was motivated to exonerate many individuals who were peripherally implicated, and others who were directly involved, extracting "word of honor" type pledges from people who had been responsible, in many cases, for the loss of tens of millions of dollars flowing South, along with heavy equipment, construction materials and government property.

The dynamics of politics, interpersonal relations, interagency pride, territoriality, and human emotions combined to involve and compromise virtually everyone, at all levels.

However, Deming had not yet felt the impact of these dynamics. Prairie dogs scurried undisturbed; roadrunners graced the breakdown lanes; and the Aguirre Organization's elusive, highlyprized product continued to flow, for the time being, North and West toward major urban markets.

Elder Sorensen wiped the sweat from his brow as he mounted the last four steps of Deseret Industries' main complex on the outskirts of Salt Lake City. After catching the evening newscast on KSL, Utah's clearchannel AM station booming out over at least two sparsely populated states, he had left his gleaming Buick Skylark parked in the 84 degree December heat, and headed for his uncle's office. Tucking his handkerchief squarely into his back pocket, glancing at his Bulova, and finally checking his notebook one more time to confirm the Suite Number, Sorensen felt ready after more than a year and a half of absence, to approach his Uncle Mel, the man who held his nephew's future in his hands.

Sorensen, a Mormon whose integrity and dedication had never been besmirched, was a Graduate Student at Brigham Young University whose GPA had recently slipped one tenth of a point below the requisite 3.00. There was a serious possibility of his Fellowship Grant being withdrawn.

Like other young Latter Day Saints he was drawn inexorably by a strong desire to engage in missionary work in the Third World. BYU's foreign language programs were among the most respected in the Far West, and a Master's in Portuguese would open doors for

Elder Sorensen in Brazil's Mato Grosso, an interior state undergoing a massive developmental surge. Secretly, he had visions of bronzed maidens swooning before him as he serenaded them on his sixstring guitar with melodious, if not slightly amateur renditions of Randy Travis' latest hits.

On the surface, Sorensen's uncle was a distinguished executive whose career record of more than twenty years with Deseret's Canned Foods Division was viewed with respect. Uncle Mel had participated in the early phases of organizing the Church's Emergency Food Storage Program, and his ideas for this virtually unparalleled "hoarding scheme" had met with favor in the eyes of his fellow churchmen. Four promotions later, Mel sat in a position of unchallenged authority; he had even interacted with Ezra Taft Benson on several occasions during the years immediately preceding Benson's death.

Sorenson breathed deeply as he waited in the antechamber for his uncle to receive him. Although he had known his uncle for most of his 22 years, and remembered spending many childhood Holidays with him, he was a bit nervous at this specific moment.

The impressive black door with the gold fixtures opened suddenly and there stood Uncle Mel, pocketwatch suspended from beltloop, bowtie slightly askew. The man smiled benignly and beckoned Elder Sorensen into his office.

Twenty minutes later, Sorensen emerged. His billfold bulged with crisp bills bearing the images of Jackson and Grant. It was apparently thought inappropriate to carry "hundreds", but his uncle had endowed him with two impressive Letters of Credit drawn, respectively, on the First National Bank of Utah in Provo and on Banco Laurenço do Brasil in São Paulo.

Elder Sorensen had embarked on a new lifestyle. In fact, he had promised his Uncle Mel to make delivery to Portland, Oregon of a fifty pound packet of Carreon Sinaloan Marijuana scheduled to arrive from Deming in two days via Consolidated Freightways. And his Uncle had facilitated his Missionary Work Assignment to Brazil, bypassing his Master's program for the moment, and financing the entire venture out of funds quasilicitly derived from a combination of Church monies and Aguirrelinked revenue.

As the truth regarding the scope and extent of the Organization's connections emerged, readers of New Mexico's major dailies were astounded, firstly, to learn of the highly concentrated nature of the marijuana trade in the South Central zone of the State. Secondly, it was nothing short of shocking that information reflecting, even indirectly , on the integrity of a Church as solidly founded on moral principles as the Mormon Church could even be published, much less worked into the fiber of public trials as prominently publicized as the Aguirre trials.

The primary implications of this massive New Mexico Utah connection were simply that, while paying lipservice to the importance of family values and allout Americana, the Church of Latter Day Saints was actually protecting its own socioeconomically, and "destroying" others psychotropically. The teenagers of Salt Lake were busy with Robitussin II, perhaps, but shipments of highgrade marijuana, fanning out from the Great Salt Desert for enormous profit , were supplying American and Canadian teenagers elsewhere with a commodity considered by many to be somewhat more injurious.

As will be demonstrated in the Chapter to follow, Casas Grandes, three hours south of Palomas, was the site of a significant Mormon migratory pattern earlier this century during persecution in Utah of hundreds of Elders on charges of polygamy. These important Churchmen relocated to Casas Grandes where, upon payment of 'tribute' to Mexican authorities, they were allowed to pursue their lifestyle and cultivate cannabis, on a massive scale, in the hills behind the town's center.

It is arguably this very cannabis that is now making its way through the "Columbus Corridor" and on toward Salt Lake, where it is resold for a tremendous profit to strengthen, shield and protect the Mormon Empire, at the expense (as the astute reader cannot fail to note) of everyone else's teenagers.

The irony of this trafficking business seems to be that those locations least suspected of profiteering and distributing are actually the most thoroughly immersed.

Beyond the obvious conspiratorial and criminal aspects of Uncle Mel's (hypothetical) role, there lay less visible elements of this sequence of events. Gabriel Aguirre had owned real estate in Utah which was actually repossessed by the Government during the October time frame.

To travel between southern New Mexico and Salt Lake City, he frequently patronized Southwest Airlines, a fact that was documented by witnesses forced to testify, under threat of incarceration themselves, by Federal Authorities. Pressured with the threat of imprisonment, however, informants often hypothesize wildly incriminating individuals who may be either simply present at an unfortunate time, peripherally involved or completely innocent. It has been asserted that many defendants in the Aguirre trials fell into this category, while the true masterminds and plotters were winging their way to freedom, beach bungalows and tropical leisure in the Caribbean, Latin America or the South Pacific.

David Morales, a married man with three young daughters, was related by blood and ethnicity to the Aguirre Organization. Like Christina, Humberto (whom we shall meet) and Sonia, he had been considered a trustworthy member of the team, or an "associate", for quite some time. And yet he knew how to distance himself from the highest risk operations. He most certainly could not be equated with the professional mercenary drivers and adventurers sent on longdistance treks through desert badlands. On the contrary, he was a veteran, a hard worker, a provider for his family and a lover of the "good things" life could offer. To support his love of horse races, cock fights and gambling, however, he may have been compelled to avail himself of less than perfectly legitimate opportunities which arose from time to time.

In surface terms, Morales worked as a refrigeration specialist for an Aeronautical Branch of the Federal Government, at a location near the U.S. Mexican Border not far from Las Cruces in Dona Ana County. It was reportedly alleged in government documents, based on often "forced" testimony, that he was in a position to provide employment for his friends and to take advantage of loose security at the facility to assist, at times, in the removal of government owned property from the site.

In fact, David seemed willing to simply carry cash, assets or messages for the Aguirre Organization when requested. Although he was basically an efficient worker, a father to his children and even an occasional churchgoer, his worldly tastes and slight arrogance were factors contributing to his downfall.

In early February 1992, as he approached Douglas, Arizona, David glanced at his gas gauge and pulled instinctively into the first service station available. The virtually blinding glare of the desert had subsided for a few moments as his Chevrolet Camaro a fairly late model, came to a gradual stop under the Diamond Shamrock emblem. He had been driving from Las Cruces to Lordsburg, and beyond, for more than four hours with a brief delay for lunch at a Truck Stop well known for its marginal activity (loose women, availability of certain commodities, offtherecord gambling operations, among other budding enterprises), and was feeling slightly queasy.

Another good reason to feel "queasy", of course, was the task he had been assigned. Normally, Mr. Aguirre had assigned David, one of his favorite family members, to matters of relative ease, generally passing Bancomer checks from Juarez in modes amounts, to various accounts for a variety of purposes throughout Dona Ana County. This time, however, because of the confidential nature of the assignment and the magnitude of the amounts involved, David had been asked, in such a way that refusal was hardly possible, to carry several buckets of currency to a ranch outside of Agua Prieta, a border town interestingly not in Chihuahua just south of Douglas in Sonora State.

According to pretrial investigation reports, bags and buckets of money were in the hands of several Organization members, including Mr. Aguirre himself who was allegedly present, having arrived separately some time earlier, to ensure that all went well. Indeed, involved was a sum of considerable consequence: two and a half million dollars. Unconfirmed reports indicate that the sum was significantly higher than usual because the commodity, this time, was not marijuana, but cocaine. This contention, obtained from Confidential Informants who had everything to gain by falsifying the truth, could not, in the last analysis, be substantiated.

Although the Agua Prieta ranch was found to have on its premises several pieces of heavy equipment, as reported by dubiously motivated investigative agents and unreliable intermediaries, connection between the Organization's activity and the transfer of this equipment south of the border could not be proven.

David Morales' lifestyle was certainly reflective of an income which, although he was gainfully employed, could not support such tastes. Yet, he was intelligent in his use of quasilegal funds and relied on protection of the Organization's massive strength and wellheeled connections to guarantee, for many years, his security, and that of his family. Indeed, when individuals like former New Mexico State Senator I.M. Smalley were reportedly involved to the extent of $35,106.02 on one transaction and $39,565.94 on another, who could doubt that even governing officials were acting on the Organization's behalf?

Indeed, there was a cozy aura of comfort, interdependency and trust pervading the entire State , with obvious counterparts south of the Border, in Chihuahua and Sonora, ensuring smooth operation of entities related to source of the product(s) imported.

Just south of Columbus, New Mexico, actually within earshot of political activity such as parades and rallies, lies the small town of Palomas. At the Pancho Villa Bar in Columbus, meetings were frequently held to discuss storage, shipment and distribution of cannabis throughout the American Southwest. It was fairly common knowledge among traffickers that storage facilities, protected on Mexican soil in Palomas by "understandings" with the local authorities, were, in fact, constructed and used successfully for staging purposes. However, sometimes Mexican law enforcement officials, representing various branches of the Chihuahuan State Police unfamiliar with the vicinity, were unaware of such facilities which were refrigerated, camouflaged and inconspicuous. Heavy equipment was used to bury money, often in preconstructed, rather sophisticated underground vaults. In many cases, sheds were built, disguised with often unrelated, but sometimes ironic wording (Agencias Aduanales), and used for the warehousing of product and incalcuable sums of money wrapped in bales, piles and packets of large denomination bills.

Evidence exists for supporting the contention that construction materials used in building these concealed vaults and safe havens might well have originated from U.S. Government surplus supplies on various construction sites just north of the Mexican border, specifically at White Sands, possibly at Fort Bliss, where seepage of various sorts into Juarez was not unknown , and at smaller scale highway projects in the vicinity of Antilope Pass, Animas and the Carrzalillo Hills. It should not cease to amaze the reader that U.S. Federal Funds are, in effect, going into major operations running counter to the fundamental interests of the lawabiding community, on a nationwide scale, and that, due to dereliction of duty, greed and overt criminality on the part of officials, the next generation of American youth is being slowly destroyed.

Any quasihonest secondary school teacher in this country can attest to the visibly disturbing percentage of youths, perhaps on the order of 65% in urban settings, whose minds have been adversely impacted by the ingestion of psychotoxins, neuroleptics and hallucinogenic substances. Curiously, the sons and daughters of bankers, lawyers, professors and arbitrageurs seem to have emerged, over the years, unscathed in terms of psychological or cognitive damage. Yet, let us become more concrete.

Along one of Ciudad Juarez' main boulevards, broad, animated, and dusted with a thin layer of freshfallen February snow, a stunningly attractive young woman, dressed in fashionable clothing reminiscent of the haute couture of Parisian salons, could be seen to emerge from Bancomer. Walking briskly, head held high, she cast a brief glance at the courteous doorman who had held the Bank's main door for her and her eight year old daughter. The school girl, clutching a small stuffed toy to her chest, struggled to keep up with her mother whose stride was as noble as it was swift. It took considerable agility, of course, to keep from slipping on the now slightly moist sidewalks of the Avenida de los Insurgentes; yet, our stylish Castellana was a competent woman.

This was Sonia Gallegos, ultimately accused of designing a scheme whereby Mexican banks could be used to launder American drug funds. She was, of course, the girlfriend of Gabriel Aguirre and, from the government's distorted perspective, an astute member of the Organization, using her intellectual talents and physical attractiveness to influence even the most reluctant of bankers. For reasons elucidated earlier, Sonia was inwardly convinced (1) that tremendous "demand" existed in the United States, (2) that other countries had long ago legalized marijuana, and (3) that business was beckoning. Bankers, on both sides of the border, were tickled pink; retailers were astounded at the vast amount of business generated and societal needs were, in a manner of speaking, being met. There seemed to be no reason to fear taking advantage of the proximity of Juarez or of the comparatively lax banking regulations of our neighbor to the South.

If Agua Prieta was the site of clandestinely transferred funds, Palomas a storage locale, and Juarez a banking center of some note, the fourth location, alluded to earlier, Casas Grandes was also a focal point of pretrial attention on the part of law enforcement.

As the Aguirre trials unfolded before the eyes of a rapt public audience, it became apparent that cannabis was not being actually grown in "border regions" to any great degree. In the United States, as in Mexico, there are "protected" areas where the Law turns a blind eye to such operations. The boobytrapped Federal Forests of Oregon's more remote sectors, for example to the West and Northwest of the Rogue River Valley, have become infamous zones in the United States; whilst, in Mexico, Sinaloa, Central Chihuahua and parts of Sonora have been thought to harbor most of this activity. For sociohistorical reasons, American money has been filtering down to Casas Grandes, ensuring a bumper crop each September for many years. We note in passing the Latter Day presence, the retirement community and wealthy Mexicans themselves who have fostered, directly or indirectly, this industry.

One might be tempted to speculate that the principal social forces of a nation as traditional as Mexico would come into play as the equilibrium swung toward illegitimacy; yet, although the Mexican Revolution was fought to end the exploitation of the many by the few, there seems to have emerged a new concentration of power in the hands of relatively few highly influential families, who, alone, control the apparatus of state and make decisions as to those networks and organizations which, legal or illegal, operate on Mexican soil. Families such as the Terrazas, the Echevarrias, the Arrellanos, and those of Tabasco, Yucatan, Nyarit, and Jalisco have been exponentially helpful at times in unearthing corruption, but at other times have actually participated in schemes inimical to the interests of Mexican Society as a whole.

The Catholic Church, at odds with ruling party officials for decades, is itself split seriously within Mexico, liberation theologists vying with conservative ecclesiastical forces, particularly in Chiapas and Oaxaca. These complexities, however, are not of primary interest to us at this point. That Mexican and American social institutions have not responded rationally to the magnitude of these networks...or have done so with profit and power as motives...is the operative notion for our purposes.

Far more needs to be said about events transpiring, even today, south of the Border, since they impact our economy, our social fabric and our future so intensively.

Extending far beyond the borders of New Mexico, the Aguirre Distribution Network routinely engaged in commercial activities with correspondents in all parts of the nation. Boston, the Hub of enterprise and industry for Greater New England, was one of these locations voluminously documented in Federal Reports throughout the pre-trial investigatory phase.

Two-thirds of the way up the second most prominent skyscraper on the Boston horizon, the handsome, blue-green Prudential Tower, Tom Kirkness, Research Specialist for Root & Jones, a government sub-contractor, browsed through a thick Manila folder containing Confidential Memoranda placed, that very morning, on his desk by the firm's competent Administrative Assistant, Elizabeth, a Simmons graduate, who apparently had no objection to serving Tom...his morning coffee along with the scintillating memos.

The material under review dealt with Nicholas Bianco, an alleged associate of Raymond Patriarcha Jr., both of whom held a variety of properties in the Far West as part of their investment

portfolios. Bianco was soon to be sentenced to 11 years in prison on racketeering charges, whilst Patriarcha, Jr. would soon be implicated in the well-publicized Gardiner Museum theft amounting to tens of millions of dollars in purloined Medieval art.

Tom's glance alternated between the panoramic view from his forty-second floor window, looking out over the Christian Science Mother Church to the East, and a pale yellow memo, dated August 1989, on which appeared the quixotic name of Refugio Rodriguez, a surname surfacing more and more often on documents originating in far-off New Mexico, along with the names of the two New England Syndicate magnates.

It is important for our purposes to reconstruct the text of this Yellow Memo, consisting of a photocopied statement originally printed on formal letterhead, which had just crossed the desk of Root & Jones' federally-retained research specialist:

August 17, 1989

It has come to the attention of the Board of Directors that Mr. Refugio Rodriguez of Deming, New Mexico, has recently acquired a large percentage of the Association's assets through a licensed brokerage firm in Albuquerque. Together with the previous holdings of his close associates, Mr. Raymond Patriarcha, Jr. and Mr. Nicholas Bianco, the Deming member's share entitles these three gentlemen to enjoy a "joint-controlling interest" in the Association.

Under the terms of our By-Laws, it is incumbent upon the present Chairperson to resign, pending decisions to be made by the controlling parties.

As of this announcement, the Association is solvent, expanding and involved in a wide range of activities reflective of the interests of all members. The present Chairperson is proud to have served during a period of dynamic growth and prosperity.

Members will be informed of the composition of the Association's new Board in the weeks ahead by the Standard Notification Procedure.

Yours most cordially,

Maria Sanchez, Chairperson

Santa Margarita Ranch Casas Grandes, Chih.

cc: Board of Directors

Golden Circle Club

Tom was aware that this racing association had been initially controlled by Chinese and Korean interests located in Los Angeles, but had recently undergone internal structural changes as winnings were reinvested by certain members, forcing reorganization of its leadership. The Yellow Memorandum, which had been forwarded to him by the D.E.A. Bureau at Government Center, four subway stops away, had captured his attention, particularly the "joint controlling interest" passage, and the reference to Casas Grandes where a number of quarterhorses were apparently boarded and bred. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of power concentrated in the hands of known miscreants, from the researcher's point of view and it appeared as though the D.E.A. shared his feelings.

Then, too, there was the known linkage between the Refugio Rodriguez name and the Aguirre Organization, tying up many loose ends in the on-going investigation. Visibility was high; facts were emerging; connections were apparent.

Obviously, two of the biggest names in Organized Crime were now associated with this New Mexican Investigation. Tens of millions of dollars were circulating and the stakes were high. Tom leaned back in his revolving chair which pivoted toward the tinted window. He could not repress a sigh, as he tossed the Memo and its accompanying transmittal data to the edge of the desk where it now lay, propped up partially by a bronze souvenir paperweight molded in the form of the Chateau Frontenac in Quebec City.

He reached for the telephone and dialed his D.E.A. contact in Las Cruces, Mr. John Garza. It was 9:34 A.M. in Boston and two hours earlier in Las Cruces. Christina answered the Agent's apartment phone, a bit sleepily, but professionally.

Moving, for a few moments, from the somewhat entangled web of shifting loyalties and dishonest dealings recounted in our narrative, it is crucial to recognize that a single D.E.A. Agent, such as John Garza, placed in a pivotal position, can not only abscond with hundreds of thousands of dollars himself, but can negate government "mega-dollars" spent on investigation, documentation, communication and administrative support.

Later, in the trial phase, it is obvious that agents clandestinely working at cross-purposes, or caught in a web which might expose their nefarious connections, intentionally delay proceedings, perjure themselves, implicate others and defend equally corrupt agents. In these instances, and they seem to be all too common, corrupt agents and law enforcement personnel cost the taxpayer unfathomable amounts of money. In the McMartin Child Abuse Case, the O.J. Simpson Trial, and the Gabriel Aguirre Trial, these figures easily exceeded the million dollar mark, with on-going expectations at the Appellate level costing millions more.proceedings. In the case of O.J. Simpson, Detective Mark Furman's unprincipled actions and distortions, plus his unprofessional comportment during the investigatory phase seem quite evident to both the jurors and the public.

As we speculate on the costs of corruption, we also resume our narrative, returning to the apartment in Las Cruces of Special D.E.A. Agent John Garza who had slept the night before with Christina, the University student, whom we met earlier, occupying a crucial role somewhere between the Aguirre Organization proper and the obviously "less ethical elements" within the D.E.A.

The phone stopped ringing as Christina removed the receiver from the cradle. Her soft voice reverberated transcontinentally in the offices of Tom Kirkness, now pivoting back toward the center of his desk with a sense of purpose.

John was summoned to the phone. He had just donned a bright print short-sleeve shirt, open at the neck, and sat comfortably on the contemporary sofa, orange juice in hand, next to Christina, who nestled coyly closer to him.

Tom inquired about events in New Mexico, requesting specific debriefing data, relating in part to the Quarterhorse Association, to which he was entitled. John was to have compiled information on routing of drug caravans, estimates of quantities involved and frequency of drug-runs, with a break-down of modalities and methods employed. Under normal circumstances, he might have falsified this type of intelligence, out of sheer sloth, but he hadn't even contemplated a "construct" yet, although Tom had asked him for it a week earlier. Interpreting John's status from a criminal perspective, for every visit with Christine, of course, John was obliged to sacrifice just a little more "professionalism," in this case the data requested. Tom seemed annoyed with the Agent's evasiveness and inability to express himself cogently. He wrote this off, however, to the phenomenon of a perhaps misperceived "socio-cultural gap" existing between Boston and the Borderlands.

Promising to return his call in a few more days, Tom concluded the early morning conversation with a reassuring blend of somewhat contrived friendship and professional rhetoric. Indeed, Tom had interacted with dozens of Federal Officials in as many agencies, and was in a position to judge the calibre and quality of the work produced, doing so objectively and without identifiable bias. The D.E.A. cooperated with Root & Jones, and indeed employed this firm, to bolster credibility and ensure "quality control" over major investigations underway at any given time. At times, however, this approach was not entirely free from taint and suspicion itself.

Tom's trip to Quebec City, last winter, paid for by his host, a private entrepreneur associated with the "Société Congolaise des Bois Impregnés", a Central African firm doing a brisk import-export business with certain sectors in Sainte-Foy, a suburb of Quebec City, might have been more than a recreational foray into French Canada. Nonetheless, another company operating in Sainte Foy in 1988, Helioconcept, might well fall into the category of "suspicious" in terms of possessing, at least, the infrastruture to transport controlled substances from, for example, Bolivia to Quebec, and it is the latter firm which the author is using as a model for Tom's questionable dealings in Quebec City. But, we must not lead the reader too far astray. It is sufficient to recognize that man's mind is complex, convoluted and often inscrutable.

Federal investigation of the Aguirre Operation was multi-faceted. Naturally, John's role was limited in some respects and his influence was not of such magnitude that he could be reasonably expected to shift the focus of the probe measurably. Suffice it to say that he was in an excellent position to provide information to Christina, who later capitalized on it, as we have seen. His access to information undermined the entire Government thrust against the Traffickers' Organization, forewarning them of raids, wire-taps, specific probes underway and timing of border operations.

So effective was John Garza's leakage of information that it has been alleged, in many circles, that more than $30 Million, of the $70 Million generated, went immediately South with those members who were perceptive enough to believe the information filtering from Christina. The remaining $40 Million was distributed through the accounts of hundreds of persons in the Deming-Las Cruces region, including Churches, retail outlets, car dealerships, and industrial operations. Banks, of course, were active in the recycling of this currency, and it worked its way into significant real estate holdings, business investments and construction projects, producing profits for all parties. Unsubstantiated rumor has it, as this manuscript goes to press, that even a major Catholic Parish in Deming recently "inherited" a One Million Dollar Estate from a "gentleman of consequence." There'll surely be a new chalice on the altar this Fall, and a gold-brocaded chasuble or two for the Padre, as well.

The Federal probe covered virtually all of these bi-national transactions and cast light on the illicit nature of earnings from Chihuahua to Phoenix, and Boston to San Diego. Yet, millions disappeared in the hands of government officials, as well. Not only were local Public Servants on the take, but payments to Garza and his colleagues, among others, were documented with reluctance by the U.S. Attorney's office.

It is curious that the Defense Attorney for Mr. Aguirre, Paul Kennedy, did not avail himself of the gold mine of "psychological impact" he could have exploited in the minds of jurors by delving into the Garza connection publicly. Surely, there was, as we shall see, an "agreement" of sorts involved here. The hands of virtually everyone in this sequence of events were tarnished with hidden motives; and sun-bleached skeletons dangled visibly hither and yon. As will be demonstrated, the D.E.A. Agent featured in this Chapter was (1) reprimanded timidly, (2) exonerated and, (3) quite unjustly released, having nearly cost the lives of dozens of his fellow agents as well as innocent Hispanics not linked in any meaningful way with the Organization.

Citizens Bank in Downtown Las Cruces, founded by the Icart Family subsequent to an intriguing series of events, has proven something of a landmark on the low-profile skyline of New Mexico's second most populous city. It is by no means a physically attractive structure, yet it harbors an aura of scandal and shadiness throughout its past, much of which was ostensibly linked to drug importation schemes as well as to the rechanneling of currency, funds and financial instruments generated dubiously. Naturally, this enhances its otherwise nondescript appeal in the eyes of investigative reporters, writers and government auditors.

Local informants speak eloquently of the Bank's history, reaching back into an era preceding the Aguirre investigation and trials. As with many such assertions, we must tread cautiously for, in recent years, this institution has improved its public image and would doubtless remain sensitive to undue "exposure" of its checkered past.

Could American free enterprise be suspended precariously on a Morton Pie Crust of corruption and illusion? Or did John Jacob Astor, John D. Rockefeller, Malcolm Forbes, Hugh Heffner, Bob Guccione and, reaching somewhat further, Larry Flynt earn their fortunes legitimately? Beyond these naive examples of industrial tycoons, publishers and pornographers, American business is, of course, thriving in a number of sectors, many legitimate, many marginally so, and many clearly illegitimate.

Inasmuch as we have laid the basis for establishing the relatively innocuous status of marijuana in previous pages, it would seem reasonable to accept the "semi-legitimacy", by contemporary norms, of Citizens Bank, certainly in recent years, if not in decades past. Obviously, if its management has been dealing exclusively in cannabis-generated funds, and has otherwise kept its books in order, adhering to Banking Regulations and relevant Statutory Controls, the Bank should be entitled to basic legitimacy in the eyes of the public. Knowing when, however, funds have been generated by methods considered "clearly unethical" is another matter. One begins, ultimately, to tread on sensitive ground in judging the source of another's livelihood. The Icarts apparently cut a number of corners in decades past, but have achieved a modicum of respectability under the flexible, unspoken laws of the American System. Sub-rosa laundering of funds can ultimately lead to the "relaundering" of one's reputation, through cleverly designed campaigns of camouflage, disinformation, and of "distancing" oneself from tainted arrangements, people, and activities.

Turning attention briefly away from the banking sector, it might be appropriate to focus on those major white collar shysters and frauds who exploited the Aguirre Organization's illicit capital, preying avariciously on the proceeds of an Operation of obviously considerable proportions.

Attorneys associated with real estate transations, estate planning, civil litigation and criminal proceedings are in an excellent position to require exorbitant retainers, fees and settlements. If they even remotely suspect that funds are illicit, these unprincipled individuals, and there are a reasonable number of them, will descend like hawks on sizable chunks of hard cash and liquid assets.

In examining the case of the "E & J Lounge" in Las Cruces, located within the embrace of a prominent freeway exit, it can be determined that funds changing hands amounted to some $434,000 in Bancomer checks, no one of which ever exceeded the reportable amount of $10,000. Frequently, hard cash, often consisting of stacks of hundred dollar bills buried for months or years in Palomas, Deming and Columbus, and smelling little short of rancid, was used for real estate purchases such as the E & J, apparently without anyone blinking an eye.

These transactions, carried on fairly innocuously by intermediaries peripherally associated with the Organization, drew the attention of a certain unscrupulous lawyer who enjoyed a well-established practice in Las Cruces. Originally, he had been associated with an equally unethical colleague; yet, his former partner had been recently disbarred for "manipulation" of real estate regulations.

As the personal attorney of an influential, local entrepreneur of Middle Eastern origins, Lloyd Bates, Esq. was in a position of considerable "potential." He was aware of the most promising real estate transactions and development projects underway in Greater Las Cruces. Further, he travelled frequently to both Albuquerque and Santa Fe, and had reportedly struck up a personal acquaintanceship with a prominent State Senator and an expanded coterie of politicians. Without qualms, he grasped the reins of control whenever he could, and, in the eyes of many, was an affectionado of such worn and trite aphorisms as "carpe diem" and "the early bird catches the worm." Indeed, Bates wormed his way into the affections of the most vulnerable individuals, keen as a Blood Hound on the trail of an elusive scent. He would routinely request vast retainers, on the order of $17,000 for menial judicial tasks, according to the former Managing Operator of the Blue Moon Bar, who, although not affiliated with this attorney, was privy to a number of arrangements Bates had made with others in Radium Springs and Las Cruces.

Because of the fabulously substantial amounts of money generated between July 1985 and October 1992 by the Aguirre operation, white collar criminals, such as Bates, descended in droves on largely Hispanic entrepreneurs who were meeting a virtually insatiable demand for cannabis throughout the greater Far West.

With the California Border coming under greater scrutiny, law enforcement on the rampage in Arizona, and a "death penalty" mentality in Texas, the New Mexican Frontier with Mexico was ripe for exploitation, in the classic sense. Indeed, the Mexican-American's affinity for business in these areas, and his numeric superiority, made it increasingly practical to realize enormous profits.

Drawn into the melee, however, were less-enterprizing, but stealthy white collar individuals who, eager to remain on the "side of the law", preyed mercilessly, nonetheless, on the very risks that their Hispanic friends were taking.

We have mentioned the insidious roles of bankers and lawyers. Much more needs to be said, and with more precise detail, of course, yet there were and are other categories of professionals who exploit this situation maximally.

Law enforcement itself comes under frequent attack. Three million dollars officially "disappeared" recently when a former New Mexico State Police Officer, elected as Sheriff of Las Cruces, could not account, at the end of his term-of-office, for this phenomenal sum of money confiscated in a variety of drug raids! Smiles and smirks seem to appear on the faces of local residents when this is mentioned, as if exonerating the Sheriff for a minor peccadillo. Ironically, the sum quoted is, in fact, minor.

Into the pockets of local, county, state and federal employees, public servants, bureaucrats and agency officials pours millions of dollars annually, over and above the funds technically accounted for and absorbed by the Federal Government. These funds are often budgeted for use in prosecuting persons who may not even have been associated with trafficking, or any other identifiable crime. Indeed, as pointed out in our previously referenced Memorandum (see Footnote No. 14), the Justice Department actively steps up confiscation proceedings, inclusive of bank accounts or liquid funds, against individuals whose only crime is catering to an existing "demand", certainly no worse than the demand catered to by Messrs. Heffner, Guccione and Flynt.

Even more shocking, of course, is the frequent shoddiness of investigations, leading to false accusations, ill-conceived indictments, egregious arrests, unconstitutional incarceration awaiting trial, mental torture and defamation of character. Jurors on the Aguirre trial were locked in "mortal combat" over this issue in Albuquerque. That this could happen in the United States of America is nothing short of appalling, recalling the purges and witch-hunts of foreign lands.

Not surprisingly, those who profit exponentially from these miscarriages of justice are generally those pointing the finger. Complicitous participation in white collar crime by all sectors of professional society, including Church personnel, is an established fact of life in modern America.

Indeed, there is an element of tremendously powerful jealousy and envy on the part of those who have not achieved the "American Dream." One either participates clandestinely in marginal types of activities, thus achieving the "Dream" on fairy risky, even illegal, terms, or, using the cover of law and societal pressure, on the other hand, one hunts perceived transgressors, ensnares them in a mesh of "legal jargon and hyperbole", all the while proceeding mercilessly to confiscate their holdings, their reputations, their employability, their families, their very souls.

The Aguirre case cost the State of New Mexico, at the outset, over One Million Dollars, with on-going costs in human and financial terms of unfathomable proportions. That most of the defendants were accused, under duress, by previously convicted felons and associates of well-established Crime Families in this State is a fact that leapt before the eyes of the Albuquerque jury. The Federal Government's tactical move to resituate the trial, after an agonizing deadlock in Albuquerque, was an underhanded ploy, predicated on the knowledge that there were precious few "prisoners' rights advocates" in the desert hinterlands of Roswell.

The white collar crime which thrived on Mr. Aguirre's good fortune, earned through a combination of exoticism, adventure and inspiration, was never revealed during ensuing legal proceedings. Hushed, white-washed and suppressed, for obvious reasons involving the reputations of some of the Southwest's "finest" citizens, these aspects of New Mexico's largest drug case may never surface.

Those jailed are clearly among the least guilty.

Lester Sonny, a day laborer for twenty years like many local workers in the remote New Mexican community of Radium Springs, north and west of Las Cruces, had just returned to his rusting mobile home on the edge of town, surrounded by rugged and desolate terrain reminiscent, particularly as the sun set and twilight lingered, of the Moon's crater-pocked "Mare Tranquillitatum". He had just been discharged from the Mesilla Valley Hospital, known for its brusque manner toward visitors and patients alike, with the unseemly diagnosis of "irreversible metastatic neuroblastoma", a clearly terminal condition for which chemotherapy and radiation therapy could do no more. His doctors were not puzzled at the recurrence in this region of an unusually high number of cases of neuroblastoma, astrocytoma, malignant glioma and pediatric leukemia. Mere kilometers from atomic test sights in the 1940s, 50s and 60s, residents of this area have been accustomed to dying young. Lester, in fact, was only 36 years old, divorced and alone. The town was simply living up to its name, its history and tragic past.

Radium Springs, situated in Selden Canyon on the fringes of the Dona Ana Mountains, featured no more than three prominent landmarks. Surely, the Rio Grande would qualify as an asset, when water levels even remotely justified the river's name; and, secondly, Leasburg State Park, equipped with an earth-fill, concrete-reinforced dam for regulation of what water actually flowed, could not be ignored. Indeed, its picnic tables and scenic panoramas placed it firmly on the Chamber of Commerce's list of tourist attractions, among the few existing in Northern Dona Ana County.

The third landmark in Radium Springs was, as attentive readers of our narrative may recall, The Blue Moon Bar. It seems that the Federal Government took a distinct interest topo-hydrologically in the first landmark, agro-economically in the second, and narco-fiscally in the third.

Located on a bend in the remote highway winding through Radium Springs, perhaps four miles from the town's center, The Blue Moon loomed dramatically as cars approached. The post-war wooden structure, aging more than slightly in the harsh desert climate, was perched on a narrow strip of land between the highway and the river behind it. The property was clearly much longer than it was wide, stretching over several hundred feet of highway frontage. To the right, an outdoor patio beckoned, its vine-laden trellis adorned with Japanese lanterns swinging slightly in the breeze.

On week-ends, the Blue Moon was reputed to do more than $15,000 a night in business, selling beer, providing entertainment and Texano music for dancers, tourists, night-club buffs and local dipsomaniacs. There was a sizable pool of habitues, including a young Piute Indian who created authentic artistic objects, paintings and artifacts for the bartender and his crew in exchange for drinks. Others included members of the Pancho Villa Bar's contingent from Columbus, and an ethnic clique or two such as Syrians and Lebanese businessmen from the Greater Mesilla Valley area.

In light of the relatively remote location of this night club, and the fact that it was extremely popular as a recreational asset for, not only the idle rich, but the hard-working people of the area, the loss of such a facility, at the time of the Federal Seizure in October 1992, angered a good segment of the population.

Although there were several dozen properties interconnected in the Government's mind with the Aguirre Operation, as they referred to it, the Blue Moon has a story, if not a saga, all its own. Here, over the decades since Peter Cooper designed and constructed the Blue Moon, businessmen met to conclude contractual arrangements, romantic affairs blossomed and crucial decisions were made. The lives of hundreds of persons were affected by the events transpiring nightly at the Blue Moon, as might be the case at any other gathering spot for the young, the dynamic and the well-connected.

Yet, the actual owner of the establishment, of Middle Eastern origin, not to be confused with the Latino manager/operator, was not as attentive to the fiscal status of the Blue Moon as he might have been. In addition to license violations, liens, encumbrances and resultant complications, the Blue Moon was alleged to be avoiding proper tendering of tax revenue to local, state and federal authorities. With some 85% of nightly receipts being siphoned from under the very eyes of the unsuspecting manager/owner by his own staff, this is not surprizing. Indeed, there seemed to be a number of pressing organizational dilemmas requiring a somewhat sterner hand.documented in police records led to disappearance of any remaining records that might have been ultimately salvaged.

As these mini-crises festered under the surface, the glamor of the Club's dancehall veneer, and growing reputation, reached its apogee. Indeed, notable figures such as the District Attorney of Las Cruces were to be seen regularly among the more "illustrious" clientele. Need we confirm that Christina worked here for a stretch of time?

It is obvious that information and intelligence were exchanged and monetarily dubious scenarios were played out in this remote desert hideaway. The ubiquitous Christina worked several angles, protecting Aguirre operations on the one hand, and slipping information, in both directions, on the other.

In spite of her arrest at Kent Hall, she was never incarcerated, largely because her power-base spanned a wide range of influential figures, who had apparently appreciated her many assets. Seen frequently with Gabriel himself, nestling coyly with Garza, with the D.A., and with other principals at the Blue Moon and elsewhere, she was truly a center-piece, or fulcrum around which much of this drama unfolded. She even harbored specific information as to the timing of the October Raids, which included the seizure of the Blue Moon, and many other impressive properties lumped together in shoddy fashion by Federal Agents who were arrogantly convinced of the "interconnectedness" of all these operations. Deplorably, there may have been the simple element of racism at work here, with enterprising members of La Raza "taking the wrap," poetically phrased, while white-collar Caucasian professionals on both sides of the law "cleaned up" financially.

As it turns out, for reasons which will be elucidated, the Blue Moon was experiencing problems, yes, but it was not interlinked with the Aguirre network, as perceived by the D.E.A. The Bar was in violation of New Mexico Gaming and Alcohol Law at one juncture, but these fines and fees had been cleared by the Manager/Operator out of personal funds. There was on-going skimming of nightly proceeds; yet, in the absence of actual receipts and documented records, the IRS could not point to specific violations. Actually, the principal figures in this trial, who were acquitted or exonerated, have been recently experiencing endless harassment by the IRS which claims hundreds of thousands of dollars in taxes on laundered funds from individuals who may nave handled money, but did so on behalf of third parties. True, there were certain machinations, behind the scenes, involving Attorney Bates, representing the interests of the Middle Eastern owner and his son. Yet, these dealings, relating to outstanding liens, escrow matters, questions of title and the like, were not demonstrably linked to Aguirre's alleged activities.

As was surely the case with other properties, the D.E.A. charged headlong into The Blue Moon affair, even after the Bar had been auctioned off to a lien-holder of record unassociated with any of the foregoing events, and did so clearly without justification, operating on mere suspicion, superficial observation and intuitive "insights" lacking any foundation in fact.

Whatever testimony may have been garnered by these Agents, from persons known to have been affiliated in the past with felonious activity, was obtained through coercion and force, or simply extracted under threat of incarceration. These egregious tactics, among others, violate fundamental rights of all U.S. Citizens and, we might add parenthetically, even foreign nationals on U.S. soil.

If such tactics can be used to obtain "evidence", so, too, can they be employed to obtain real property, wealth and even frozen assets. The manager/operator of the Blue Moon was coerced into passively signing documents relinquishing his interest in the property, under threat of prosecution on purely fabricated charges of selling marijuana. He was selling, he hastens to clarify, only alcohol, under license and doing so very much like tens of thousands of other club managers.

Law enforcement personnel, zealously embarking on a campaign to meet quotas and raise funds for the "Annual Picnic", frequently lose sight of the fact that freedom from Government seizure of property is protected, of course, under the Fourth and Eighth Amendments of the U.S. Constitution. The law not only requires a series of pre-deprivation hearings, particularly in the absence of convincing "reasonable cause" as to the suspicion of criminal activity, but also insists on the potential defendant enjoying free access to the courts for purposes of redress, prior to seizure. Further, the Constitution guards one's home even more effectively, with wide-ranging protections and rights built into the phrasing of relevant clauses.

Unfortunately, it would seem, in the case of the Blue Moon and other properties unjustly confiscated in these sweeping raids, that all of these guarantees were ignored or brushed flippantly aside by Government Agents, acting virtually as if they were at Ruby Ridge, Waco or Kent State. In the eyes of our European Allies, we assuredly emerge from such debacles with "egg on our face."

In retrospect, associates of Mr. Aguirre like Chuy Martinez, arrested in Columbus and forced to testify falsely against the "organization", were wise to own property in Palomas where Mexican law bends over backwards to protect the holdings of citizens and permanent residents.

When we discuss "quality of life" issues in some real depth, and ignore the dusty rusticity of a country like Mexico, perhaps we must place more than a little weight on the governing philosophy of a nation, particularly a philosophy which safeguards the holdings and earnings of its working people, and respects its women.

The actual forfeiture, seizure and repossession of private property, although protected to varying degrees under clearly applicable Constitutional guarantees, occurred on October 21, 1992 on a virtually unprecedented scale in New Mexico, involving either raids on, or judicial actions against, the Pancho Villa Bar, the E & J Lounge, the Blue Moon, the Champion Quarterhorse "Royal Quick Dash", and a bevy of other properties in the construction and building sectors throughout Southern New Mexico with implications for Arizona, Utah and elsewhere.

Amazingly, Assistant U.S. Attorney Chuck Barth expressed certitude that the Government's actions, in spite of obvious weaknesses in his case, weaknesses which poured copiously into state-wide press coverage publicly in the months that followed, were justified and well-founded, paraphrasing loosely.

Thus, (1) the holdings of Mr. Aguirre were forfeited, (2) those of many individuals unassociated with the "organization" were destroyed, affecting both reputation and livelihood, and (3) due process was denied, creating fear and anxiety across the Southwest among law-abiding citizens who viewed with dismay the entire scenario.

Indeed, the events which transpired on October 21, 1992 had traumatized dozens of men, women, and children, all of whom, and whose relatives and friends, have since lost faith in our system of justice, in law enforcement, in the courts and in American society as a whole.

Recently, the arrest of the "last capo" of the Cali Drug Cartel, Miguel Rodriguez Orejuela, in Apartment No. 402 of the Santa Rita Hills Residential Complex, on July 15, 1995, by Colombian Forces acting under General Rosso Jose Serrano, who based his decisions on accurate intelligence from in-country D.E.A. agents, led to revelations of close ties between the Cali Cartel and the newly elected President of Colombia, Ernesto Samper, a man now very much at the mercy of Washington.

Indeed, this distinguished Head of State had accepted some Two Billion Pesos, or more than Two Million Dollars, from the Cartel to finance his electoral campaign. Moreover, the new president was known to be on personal terms with the Orejuela brothers, having vacationed with them in Madrid in 1993.

In Samsonite Luggage left behind in the panic of flight, a list of 2,000 names of high-ranking Colombians, all public figures, was the source of shock and disbelief among the governments, corporations and institutions of several North and Latin American nations many of which had business, trade and commercial ties with these prominent artists, journalists, sports figures and politicians. The ramifications of the Cali break-up are still being felt in the world of narcodollars and traffickers. But these shock waves are also being felt as they reverberate throughout the politico-diplomatic community in Washington, the American capital, currently prospering under the inspired mayoral talents of a convicted cocaine felon, Marion Barry.

It is unlikely that direct linkage can be confirmed, of course, between the relatively unscathed politicians of the Nation's Capital and the Latin American "governmental saturation"

phenomenon; yet, due to the commonality of interests, the profit motive and the ease with which international business is conducted, it is a virtual certainty that many interlinking connections, even with the Aguirre Organization, were and are distinctly possible. This does not necessarily further inculpate a man like Gabriel Aguirre, whose generosity and grandfatherly demeanor were widely appreciated by New Mexicans. It simply demonstrates the truly universal appeal of profits achieved through enterprising business accords. The obvious intermeshing of traffickers with government officials across the board is a well recognized feature of these trading patterns, as much in Bogota as in Washington.

The ease with which local officials in Las Cruces and Deming interacted with known narco-trafficantes, particularly at the banking level, is a fact which leaps before the eyes. Most intermediaries, including David Morales, one of Mr. Aguirre's favorites, were genuinely convinced that their actions were sanctioned by higher officials, that arrangements had been made, and that "protection" was a foregone conclusion. Much of this sense of assurance filtered down from the State capital, Santa Fe, as we have seen, and State Legislators, at least two of whom have been mentioned in these pages, allegedly participating in this virtual Barnum & Bailey atmosphere, were, in turn, deriving their sense of comfort from superiors at the Congressional level, and beyond.

Indeed, students of Federal government policy and practices will recall that President Reagan's first choice for Secretary of Labor, John Donovan, was unceremoniously accused of overt affiliation with Organized Crime, with respect, if we are not mistaken, to the New Jersey waterfront. And various Chiefs of Staff under Bush, and now Clinton, may also have been interlinked with questionable and dubious home-based organizations. Similarly, Former U.S. Congressman from Santa Cruz County (California), Leon Panetta, although widely respected on the surface, may be shielding, directly or indirectly, a number of criminal operations in the Santa Cruz Mountains, south and west of San Francisco. He is a product of the highly regarded University of Santa Clara, a Jesuit Institution.

The mere suggestion, a few years ago, that the next Attorney General of the United States could possibly hail from Miami would have had the nation in an uproar. Today, as the country's cashiers dust the white powder from their fingertips, Janet Reno is a fait accompli.

It is against this backdrop of collusion, double-standards and outright graft, that we proceed to describe the injustices, the secret deals and the power-plays which characterized the Aguirre case and its unfortunate victims, largely families attempting to provide decent homes and lives for their now highly vulnerable children.

A cursory review of characters presented thus far will reveal that Gabriel Aguirre essentially received his marijuana shipments from the Carreon Brothers in Sinaloa, through a multiplicity of channels opened South of the Border, often in Sonora and Chihuahua, by Jesus "Chuy" Martinez, the primary Mexican contact, who was arrested by D.E.A. agents in Columbus, interrogated in the absence of counsel at a small shack in the hinterlands of the Apache Hills, and compelled to testify falsely against Mr. Aguirre, under duress. Chuy was ultimately jailed in Albuquerque on charges of trafficking, held in detention as a "flight risk" for a period of time and then, due to complexities related to John Garza's (a) duplicitous role, (b) outright betrayal and (c) compromised testimony, was released upon Court Order. Chuy fled, understandably, into Mexico where he had reportedly amassed considerable capital, in the eight digit range, stored in refrigerated sheds in Palomas and elsewhere.

There is quite a taint, of course, of a "deal having been cut" between the U.S. Attorney's office, the Courts and Mr. Martinez, who had threatened to reveal publicly the depth and magnitude of "rot" within the D.E.A. Inasmuch as he held vital information (times, places, perhaps recordings, photos and tangible proof of corruption beyond Garza), it was thought prudent to release him, for this reason, and in light of the Denver Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals decision. This is not the first time that "key players" have been exonerated, and, in their stead, minor individuals -- inevitably with whole families of children -- have been arrested, prosecuted, humiliated and incarcerated, destroying human lives on a significant scale.

Ostensibly well-intentioned social and church organizations have been known to move in on defenseless wives and children, frequently forcing them into compromising situations, involving, as school psychologists, guidance counselors, teachers, social workers and child care specialists will all readily affirm, prostitution, pornography, petty crime and servitude. Generally speaking, these types of activities involve issues of "social class", with the landed elite exploiting "at risk" children of disenfranchised Americans, among whom falls a preponderance of prisoners.

In earlier chapters the names of Lloyd Bates and Jake Evans were mentioned as representing a reprehensible class of lawyers preying on the periphery of the Organization. There were decidedly others, as well, whose machinations were instrumental in plotting the downfall of certain individuals, and not others.

The names of (1) Billy Blackburn, Sonia Gallego's Defense Counsel during the trial phase, (2) a local attorney who will remain anonymous, yet who represents a highly significant figure, actually rising to become Las Cruces District Attorney, eventually linked quite dubiously to principal defendants in the dramatic days following the raids and seizures, and (3) a critically placed female lawyer working for the Organization, at a relatively high echelon, Carmen Garza. Ms. Garza, apparently unrelated to the D.E.A. Agent in question in terms of family ties, broke down and collapsed in tears when speaking with the Justice Department about the fate of Agent Garza, who was not only having an affair with Christina, the NMSU student, "double agent" and Blue Moon waitress, but with her, as well.

Analysis of the interaction among these individuals, many of whom shared office space in the same complex, is instrumental to an adequate appreciation of the collusion, graft, power politics, influence peddling and massive transfer of wealth which characterized the final months of the Aguirre pyramid. Out of this cauldron poured the "primordial stuff" of whitewash, cover-up, finger-pointing and enmity.

To begin, the close personal relationship between Sonia Gallegos, Mr. Aguierre's trusted confidente and mistress, and Carmen Garza, the Las Cruces Criminal Defense Attorney whose father was, incidentally, a local Judge, provided the basic dynamics for "cross-pollination", and seepage of vital intelligence (not to mention massive sums of cash) among the Aguirre Organization, Law Enforcement, the Judiciary and the White Collar Community.

So convinced was the Justice Department of this unsavory linkage that they refused to allow Garza to be represented by Carmen for fear of public outrage, scandal and the clear-cut appearance of impropriety. And, in fact, the D.E.A. would never allow Agent Garza to stand trial for complicity with or without independent counsel.

He was to receive a "deal", through the uniquely American system of plea bargaining, one which met with considerable opposition in the press. Garza endangered lives, divided a camp against itself and represented all that was foul in the human entity. Yet, he walked free from his self-created morass of betrayal and disloyalty, promising meekly never to don the insignia of a law enforcement agency again. He cost the U.S. taxpayer hundreds of millions of dollars in graft, lost revenue, money flown south, investigation expenses and countless other losses in heavy equipment, government property and manpower, endangering human life.

Keeping this in mind, we note that during her conversation with Justice, it was principally because of her "soiled" connections that Ms. Garza broke out in sobs of desperation, unable to help John. She was also subject, possibly, to prosecution herself if she failed to play her hand properly. Indeed, her friendship of long standing with Sonia, and hence with the Aguirre Organization, was compromising for her professionally, and dangerous in the eyes of Justice. What reams of information must have flowed through her office, abutting that of Jake Evans.

Hypocritically, these white collar professionals played with lives as if they were ping-pong balls, smashing some against the net of life and lopping others gently off the edge of the table.

They waited, sometimes years, profited, and then descended like vultures preying on carrion. In towns and cities all across this nation, the dynamics of power are played out at this level.

Aspiring attorneys, corrupt judges, pawns trafficking in documents and information, intermediaries, retailers, bankers and teachers are among the players. At the last moment everyone steps back, like in a game of musical chairs, and those left "front center" are those, often by design, who are apprehended, dragged through the press, paraded before the apparatus of justice, incarcerated and disgraced. It seems a bit like the annual sacrifice of virgins to the Minotaur of Theseus and Ariadne.

The D.E.A.'s success in concealing its own dirty linen was worthy of praise, perhaps, in the eyes of those who felt that American Institutions required shielding in times of embarrassment; yet, the price was high in terms both of dollars and prestige. That Garza, a playboy connected to several women in positions of influence, would be allowed to pursue his professional interests, career and life as an exemplary citizen is nothing short of a slap in the face to decent Americans, hardworking and family-oriented. Still another attorney immersed in this mire of inbreeding and collusion was Billy Blackburn, ultimately Sonia Gallego's lawyer. Because of his alleged connections and background, he may not have been the most astute choice for Sonia, who required the services of an eloquent and untainted advocate.

Blackburn was intimately affiliated with the same group of attorneys whose offices were, and still are, situated in downtown Las Cruces. Moreover, he was reportedly privy to a good deal of blatant graft and laundering activity, not so atypical of Southern New Mexico during the seventies and eighties.

While secret Grand Jury Indictments were being formulated against Sonia even as she conferred with the Downtown Group, perhaps seeking to facilitate the Organization's ability to do business in Dona Ana County, she was unaware that her lawyer, Blackburn, could do little to help her in the weeks and months ahead. The dynamics of the situation were spiraling out of control. Too many people were beginning to become consciously aware of the phenomenal sums of money changing hands under tables at all levels of government and particularly among grey-haired jurists on the bench, many of whom were distinguished members of the Judiciary apparently unhappy with their Eighty or Ninety Thousand Dollar a year jobs.

However, as we stated earlier, an aura of security pervaded the atmosphere. Nestled along the Mexican Border, snug in her lovely El Paso home, protected by Gabriel and countless millions of dollars, Sonia felt invulnerable.

On the evening of October 20, 1992, Sonia, clad in only her pink pantyhose, slipped beneath the silk sheets of her Baroque Brass Bed and drifted off into a deep, relaxing sleep.

Forty miles to the North and West, across state lines in New Mexico, on that same Indian Summer evening, a young boy and his mother had just enjoyed a mildly spiced chile rellenos and quesadilla dinner. Their home was located at the West End of town, not far from a local high school where 12 year old Raul would be enrolled in two years. Now, however, he helped out his mother two days a week, after school, at the Blue Moon in Radium Springs, where he cleaned, polished and swept in preparation for the night's onslaught of customers. But when they arrived, understandably, Raul was usually home watching "Siempre El Domingo", "21 Jump Street" and "Degrassi Junior High", the award-winning Canadian production, on local cable service which, as is the case throughout the Borderlands, featured a wide array of bilingual programming beamed via microwave into a shimmering metallic roof-top satellite dish. Las Cruces, after all, was not Manhattan and distances were always a factor.

Raul begrudgingly picked up his social science text, Land of the Free, and flipped through the pages to an assigned section dealing with the Bill of Rights. He had to memorize the first Ten Amendments by late next week for his Friday exam. Stretching out on the floor next to the T.V., he dozed off as early as 8:45 pm, his textbook lying open at "The Fourth Amendment", under a flashy red, white and blue banner draped over the top, and half-way down either side of the page. Thoughts of his P.E. coach's pep-talk swirled in his young mind and he, not entirely unlike Sonia, drifted off into an innocent, unsuspecting sleep.

Raul's foster father, Daniel Maynes, manager/operator of the Blue Moon had, through seepage from Christina, been well aware of the ominous turn events had taken. Although he had no reason to abscondGabriel Aguirre's sister, making him the former brother-in-law of the Operation's leader. He felt that, although he had cautiously distanced himself from any transaction of a tainted nature, his tenuous family ties might lead the government to conclude, erroneously, that he was deeply involved in the Organization. He simply needed employment, the Blue Moon in this case, and prevailed upon his contacts to help him survive in the "desolate desert" of the Southwest. , and had only limited funds earned from legitimate real estate investments in California to take with him, he had prudently rented a room at the Sylvia Hotel in Juarez, where he could relax and appreciate the "fireworks" as they shimmered earthward over Western Texas and the Gadsden Purchase. His lovely wife had been forewarned, of course, of the impending raid, but she had not reacted as dramatically as Daniel, largely because she was a devoted mother, guiltless, honest and hardworking. This particular evening Daniel had joined two friends at the Sylvia's posh restaurant just to the left of the "porte cochère" where limosines, elegant sedans and the occasional taxi deposited newly arrived guests from a variety of locations in Mexico's fourth largest city.

From his table, as he glimpsed the activity at the main entrance, Daniel pushed back his arm-chair, rose, excused himself and returned to his room on the third floor overlooking the Avenida Ignacio Meija. His thoughts were disturbed as he tossed restlessly under the vintage 1935 crystal chandelier swaying gently in the nocturnal breeze which filtered through the thinly draped shutters of his multi-paneled windows.

He glanced toward the United States, perceiving the illuminated Lone Star of Texas on a prominent hillside in El Paso, and fell into a troubled state of somnolence.

North of the Rio Grande, once again in Las Cruces not far from Picacho Boulevard, David Morales's family was also preparing for a good night's sleep. This family man, given occasionally to a good horse race as the reader may recall, was required to be in White Sands the following morning to complete installation of refrigeration equipment in an expanded facility designed to house liquid fuel.

David's three young girls, snuggly tucked into quilt-adorned beds with their favorite stuffed toys cradled in their arms, received Daddy's good night kiss, said their prayers and entered the land of Oz.

The clock ticked inexorably. A man lay in agonized sleep in a country which was not his own, and in El Paso, in the West End, and near Picacho Boulevard, in fully three houses, in two states, a drama seldom seen in the United States of America was about to occur.

Considering Sonia's eight year old daughter, David's three girls and young Raul, no fewer than five children were about to be traumatized, scarring their impressionable minds for life. While it can be viably argued that many of these youngsters may have been too young to grasp the nature of the October 1992 Raids, Raul, at age 12 was actually quite aware of the implications, nearly having lost his life in this "federal outrage", reminiscent, in many respects, of the Ruby Ridge tragedy.

As Daniel slept fitfully under Mexican skies, Sonia, across the river in El Paso, had just gotten up for a glass of water at about 3AM, and returned to bed mulling over an important real estate transaction she was concluding the next day. She failed to realize how close to disaster her association with the Aguirre Organization had brought her, recognizing perhaps that she had "cut some corners" in many of her dealings and, several years ago, had utilized funds from Gabriel to capitalize her ambitions, but felt secure in her present success, much as David had rationalized his involvement. If Senators and Statesmen were dipping into this trough of seemingly inexhaustible money, surely his trinkets, and Sonia's, were mere trifles. In two hours, both Sonia and David would begin to view the situation somewhat differently. So would young Raul and his mother...

It happened virtually simultaneously in El Paso and Las Cruces.

At 6:10AM, three doors were "assaulted" by U.S. Marshals armed with rifles and 9mm Berettas.

While there was a forceful warning knock at Sonia's door, the Marshals failed to wait, kicked in the bolt lock with storm-trooper boots, and made short work of the lower lock and copper doorknob. Four armed men burst into the elegant living room, toppling an antique porcelaine vase and spreading filth in streaks across the plush carpeting. Sonia, three rooms away awoke with a start, jumped from her bed and opened the bedroom door just a crack.

Her windows, even if she had wanted to escape, were structured in such a way as to prevent easy egress. They were equipped with screens, panels and rotating handles which only allowed the windows to swing outwards in a slow and ponderous fashion, a design of the 1960s thought to be space-efficient and even slightly elegant.

Trapped in her own bedroom, she had just started to reach for a nightgown when two of the Marshals stormed down the corridor, rifles in hand. They forced open the door, against feeble resistance by Sonia, a woman now shocked and dazed by this surrealistic scenario reminiscent, perhaps, of Chile under Pinochet, The Dominican Republic under Trujillo, or Paraguay under Strossner.

As the door swung violently open, Sonia became aware of her virtual nudity. Two green-uniformed, heavily armed men, wearing the impressive insignia of Federal Marshals, stood gaping, first, at the ample breasts of this buxom Castellana, and then, expressions breaking into depraved smirks, lower, at the clearly translucent panties wedged unnaturally into her groin, due to three panic-stricken strides Sonia had just taken across her now violated boudoir.

We leave Sonia in the lascivious hands of these miscreants, bearing judicially issued warrants Incidentally, the scene involving crude behavior on the part of Federal Marshals was derived from actual testimony forthcoming during the Albuquerque proceedings. in addition to their smirks, and move rapidly forty miles away to Las Cruces, where, simultaneously, at the West End home of young Raul and his mother events were also escalating well beyond anything even remotely permitted under the provisions of the U.S. Constitution.

There had been a late night movie on "Showtime" at about 12:30 AM, entitled "Pocket Lover", a French production with English language sub-titles, pointing out the advantages, under the Fifth Republic's liberal laws, of orphaned 14 year old boys enjoying the favors of far more mature, and wealthy, women. Raul had awakened in time to view the last 30 minutes of this steamy feature, and had had trouble falling back to sleep. He dozed off, finally, at about 3:30AM, his mind filled with matters somewhat beyond his tender years.

Not only had Constitutional Law broken down in the United States, but moral decay was well on its way to rendering the modern generation virtually useless academically, scientifically, professionally and physiologically.

At 6:12AM, his bedroom door was flung open by decidedly unwelcome intruders whom he hadn't even heard approach. Three mesomorphic Federal Marshals, this time armed with Berettas, prodded the yellow blanket, under which the boy had taken shelter from the autumnal chill, with the tip of one of the weapons, positioned mere inches from Raul's concealed face.

A young head emerged sleepily from under the blanket. A pair of soft brown eyes blinked open, and stared straight into the muzzle of the Marshal's weapon. The boy froze in unspoken panic.

The Marshal's forest-green uniform may have been barely visible in the semi-darkness of the early morning, but an intermittent gurgling sound, in lieu of intelligible speech, flowed audibly from Raul's throat and his eyes rolled uncontrollably. The Marshal, ultimately perceiving that the boy was experiencing the intensest of human emotions, backed quietly away, glancing at his two chuckling, almost masochistic colleagues.

Raul was not capable of moving for twenty minutes; indeed, he was transfixed by fear and permanently traumatized by this potentially lethal incident, manifestly unparalleled in his twelve years. His civics lesson of the day was quite clear, actually:

While we are seemingly guaranteed rights in Red, White and Blue print, while we may explore the beauties of nature and of God's Creation, the "law" is capable of usurping all of our rights in an instant, contingent upon the signature of a single landed aristocrat empowered by the State to determine our fate arbitrarily, with nonchalance and with patently blatant insensitivity.

It is doubtful that Raul and his mother, preoccupied with appearing nonchalant herself as these "officers" tore apart her home seeking commodities that were simply not there, would phrase their civics lesson quite in those terms; but, they, and growing numbers of Americans, are learning this sorry lesson in the realities of day to day justice throughout a, frankly, rather mediocre Republic.

A plush brown teddy bear fell to the floor in still another home nearby at 6:20AM. Piercing screams from three small girls, an hysterical mother and a potentially violent father startled the neighborhood. David Morales' home, like the others, had been raided before dawn, in the pre-twilight darkness of suburban Las Cruces. One hour later, jack-hammers ripped indiscriminately at a flag-stone and concrete patio in the back yard, in anticipation of locating buried narco-dollars, such as the millions found under a chicken coop in Deming.

Across the state and into Arizona, various suspect properties were being seized and repossessed as part of the on-going "raid." Hispanics thought to be connected to the organization were hand-cuffed, booked and then, generally speaking, released pending arraignment on a variety of charges.

It was finally clear that the secret late-summer gatherings of the Federal Grand Jury, comprised of local citizens, largely white collar and of considerable means, had culminated in the arrest of dozens of hard-working, demonstrably industrious contributors to the community-at-large.

Following federal seizure of property, invasion of homes, denial of due process and violation of basic rights, all of this unfortunately reflecting a selectively discriminatory and racist overlay, plus the initial round of arrests in October and November of 1992, a period of relative quiescence ensued.

The Federal Government, personified by Don Svet, the U.S. Attorney from Justice whom we met earlier, negotiated several behind the scenes arrangements, attempting to lower the "embarrassment profile" of his Department, due largely to compromised testimony, evidence and intelligence related to John Garza's betrayal of government interests.

Garza, of course, was finally unmasked when the F.B.I., working independently of the D.E.A., the upper echelon of which had apparently never suspected the cozy relationship its Agent had had with (a) The Aguirre Organization, (b) Christina, (c) City Officials, (d) Downtown Lawyers, and (e) Other Members of the D.E.A.'s own investigative staff, also receiving narco-graft, discovered a note in Sonia's trash can with the name of a Government Protected Witness on it! We add parenthetically that another Government Protected Witness fell into a similar category, a Mr. Tobias, who, for our purposes, will serve simply to underscore the treachery of the Federal Government's policy of basically paying witnesses to testify for the Prosecution, only to have many of these "informants" later swing literally back to their underworld associates, to the feigned "amazement" of the Government.

Monitoring phone calls among Carmen, Sonia and Christina, all good friends, led to more information which ultimately unmasked the source of leaks within D.E.A., pointing the finger, through information forthcoming from Daniel Maynes, at John Garza.

Daniel, interestingly, whom we left in his elegantly draped room at the Sylvia in Juarez at the time of the raids, had since been "contacted" by Attorney Jake Evans who, during a frenetic phone conversation between Juarez and Las Cruces, convinced Daniel that a "deal" had been worked out, whereby he would be absolved of "false charges" related to complicity in drug-revenue laundering (specifically the E & J affair), if (a) he returned to the United States, (b) retained Jake to the tune of some $100,000, the totality of his monetary resources from real estate investments in California, (c) revealed the D.E.A. corruption-connection and (d) forfeited all of his property, keeping only his house.

Daniel, because he was essentially guiltless, reluctantly agreed, resulting in the following consequences: (a) he returned to the United States, (b) was stripped of his assets by his own lawyer and the Federal Government (c) was compelled to reveal details of Garza's and his neice Christina's role, and (d) lost his position at the Blue Moon, which, for a variety of reasons previously elucidated, had been seized, in any event. In exchange, he was offered a disculpatory writ exonerating him of involvement in the Aguirre Operation and shielding him from prosecution, without prejudice to future Justice Department action against him should evidence surface. He now works at a popular Mexican Restaurant in Las Cruces, and accepts occasional jobs as an air-conditioning and mechanical repair specialist.

We note, however, that here is a man, clearly on the periphery of this Organization, attempting, quite simply, with minimal formal education, to survive in a difficult environment. Accused falsely, he was forced to sacrifice his reputation, his assets, his honor and his status in society, fighting off various governmental assaults without means or an attorney.

Yet, we shall return to Daniel at a later point in this narrative to discuss briefly the relationship he cultivated with Justice and the ramifications of these decisions on his tax status, another interwoven sub-plot of considerable interest.

We have followed fairly closely the convoluted paths of four or five of the 22 defendants indicted in the Aguirre operation. Others will surface from time to time in comments relating to the trial, sentencing and consequences of this massive governmental undertaking.

Prior to scrutinizing the intricacies of the proceedings in Albuquerque, a general survey of the parameters involved might prove useful. This case had been under investigation for five years prior to the October Raids. The Justice Department, comprised of both those employees who were honestly inclined, and especially those who harbored sub-surface interests, allowed the scope and magnitude of the operation to spiral upward into the 80 Million Dollar range, permitting everyone to profit in one way or another. There were, as we have perceived, carnal profits to be reaped just as there were monetary or power-centered advantages.

Money filtered down into the community, and, hence, into the coffers of churches, social organizations and family businesses. Graft was of such significance that virtually everyone, until events became outrageously visible, was pleased with the status quo. Jealousies, territorial disputes and authority-plays were finally at the root of the Organization's demise.

After the raids, plea bargaining excluded a few peripheral figures, such as Daniel Maynes, from the trial phase; yet, those unable to provide suitable explanations for Justice Department interrogators, or those defendants who were more thoroughly immersed were ultimately tried in Albuquerque. During these proceedings, which lasted six months, ending in July 1994, the jury was not convinced of the guilt of any of the defendants! Millions of dollars had been spent, reputations ruined, free men and women incarcerated, embarrassed, traumatized due to mere suspicions, bolstered by shoddy and unprofessional investigative and legal efforts on the part of the prosecution. Judge Conway, who had become recalcitrant, even obstreperous, on issues related to drugs, due to narcotics having reportedly affected his family, maneuvered quasi-ethically so as to lay the groundwork for resituating the second trial -- effectively constituting double jeopardy had not charges been slightly modified to avoid such an appearance -- in Roswell, a conservative backwater drawing from a pool of jurors "cut of a very different cloth."

It would be totally inappropriate to judge the entirety of these proceedings in a few acerbic paragraphs. Indeed, the Government planned, both in Albuquerque and Roswell, to call more than 300 witnesses and enter thousands of documents into evidence in order to prove a conspiracy on the part of Mr. Aguirre and his extended family, in which more than 31 participants were ostensibly involved.

The Aguirre trial in Albuquerque was billed as the largest trial in the history of the State, costing over a million dollars and involving hundreds of persons on all sides of the issue and at all levels of influence. Estimates of the length of the pre-trial investigation phase range from two years to seven years, depending on which governmental agency was involved and the locale selected for analysis.

The Internal Revenue Service, as a case in point, was interested in this criminal activity, not because they were piously concerned with the welfare of the nation's drug-susceptible fifth graders, but because they wanted their 80% of the proceeds. Indeed, in order (a) to boost their "quotas and statistical profiles", (b) to produce more impressive GDP and GNP quotients, (c) to balance the Federal Budget with marijuana funds, and (d) assuage their egos, the IRS was focusing on these illegal proceeds which in the shadows of the fringe economy were being generated "hand over fist."

Not only was the IRS, as a monolithic entity, interested in pursuing its own objectives concurrently with other Federal agencies, but perso