This Is for the Mara Salvatrucha (14 page)

T
he more Brenda talked, the more her notoriety grew. There were too many loose ends. Too many people were talking about Brenda. Greg’s most immediate problem was not the courtroom rumor mill. It was the legal battle to keep Brenda safely out of Texas. She was a minor who had more legal reason to be set free than incarcerated. Freedom was an ultimate goal, but it was not what Brenda needed while she was talking to cops about the MS.

Greg had already considered a list of alternatives. Initially he thought that placing Brenda back with her family in California might be an option but he quickly dismissed that idea. Southern California had a very active MS-13 presence. Although Brenda’s hometown of El Monte, outside of Los Angeles, was likely not MS turf, Greg couldn’t take that risk.

Brenda had told him her dad was an MS gang member. While he wasn’t sure this was true, Greg thought her father might be involved in some criminal activity—another reason to keep her in Virginia. Her uncle in Texas was another option, and he was considered by the Virginia courts to be Brenda’s first point of contact, since her father had transferred legal guardian status to Rafael. After several attempts made by Greg and the court to get in touch with Rafael resulted in little to no action on his part, it was clear her uncle didn’t want to have anything to do with her.

Greg also considered foster care, but ruled that out because he was certain the MS might harm the members of any family who agreed to house Brenda. He explored other locations. She could be placed in a rural youth ranch, the kind used to help rehabilitate criminally minded minors. Or she could be put into a girls program in Georgia. Yet none of these options were good enough to guarantee her safety. As much as Greg wanted to isolate Brenda, at least enough to keep her safe, he couldn’t be sure they could find a place outside of a juvenile detention facility where the Mara Salvatrucha couldn’t find her.

As time moved forward from July into early August, Greg had secured Brenda’s trust, no small accomplishment, but he still faced a paradox. Brenda met dozens more people as she revealed more MS secrets about hand signals, organizational structure, and the gang’s various criminal enterprises. It was impossible to maintain the secrecy of her informant status. She had become a minor celebrity with the law enforcement community in northern Virginia. Eventually the wrong people would hear she was cooperating with police. The more she spoke, the harder it was to keep her safe. Fortunately, her rising star as an important informant did give him some leverage in Texas, where Detective Oseguera’s arrest warrant was still outstanding.

The Grand Prairie major crimes detective, Rick Oseguera, hadn’t seen Brenda since March 2002. There were warrant posters with Brenda’s mug shot in the greater Dallas area, but they had generated no leads. To him, she was gone.

In the first week of August, Flaca appeared on Oseguera’s radar. She was the girl who, according to Brenda, had killed Javier and stolen his car and might pass through Dallas at some point on her way to Maryland. The detective received a call from the officer on duty at Farmers Branch Police Department who explained he had a wispy young Latina female who went by the name of Flaca in his custody. Excited about moving his case forward, Oseguera drove out to Farmers Branch to take her into custody and drive her back to Grand Prairie for questioning.

Just as he had with Brenda, he walked her to his interview room and sat her down at the table. She wasn’t hardened or tough and smart like Brenda, nor was she well versed in what she could and couldn’t tell the cops. Scared of the men who had killed Javier, Flaca had decided she wanted to rid herself of the gang life. She was a gangster wannabe who didn’t want it anymore. She had seen and heard things that had
scared her and had nearly been killed for her association with Brenda’s gang. Her boyfriend at the time of Calzada’s death, Little Zico, had tried to kill her in mid-July, only weeks before Flaca met Detective Oseguera.

Her best recourse had been to go to the cops. Oseguera had to be careful to nurture this potentially rewarding relationship, he thought as he sat down across from Flaca at the interview table. She was his biggest break in the case since January, when the Dallas Gang Unit cops passed him Brenda’s shoebox with letters from Veto. Before Flaca began, Oseguera asked her if she would agree to give him a signed statement. She said she would and began telling the detective what she remembered. She revealed a number of details that Oseguera had no other way of learning.

“I was with Brenda when she called Javier and asked him for a ride to Grand Prairie,” Flaca timidly stated. “On the way, a guy I didn’t know got in the car and he placed a gun at Javier’s head. Javier got out of the car and soon I heard two gunshots. Then we drove back to Dallas and tried to take off the tires,” Flaca concluded.

It was a short story, but she had gotten to the point. Within five minutes, Flaca had provided the essential links to allow the rest of Oseguera’s facts to fall into place, with only one discrepancy: the Dallas medical examiner had found evidence of only one bullet wound.

She went on to tell Oseguera that Little Zico was one of the gang members who beat up Javier before he was shot. She pronounced his name “psycho,” like Brenda did. And after the murder, she said, Little Zico, Veto, and three others stripped Javier of his shoes.

Oseguera took careful notes as he lined up the facts in his head. He was now convinced Veto was the gunman behind the Calzada murder. He knew Veto and four of the other gang members were already locked up in the Dallas County Jail. But they were there on an aggravated-robbery charge, not for the Calzada murder. If Oseguera didn’t push forward with his investigation, Veto and the others could possibly get away with killing Calzada. That was something Oseguera could not allow, especially now that he knew more about Veto’s gang.

Flaca had told him important facts about Javier’s death, and she had placed Brenda at the scene of the crime, possibly implicating Veto as the gunman. It was great information, but Oseguera concluded that Flaca didn’t know quite enough for him to go forward with an airtight case. He still needed corroboration.

The detective wanted more than ever to talk to Brenda again. Oseguera then asked Flaca about Brenda. She told him Brenda was in Fairfax County in northern Virginia and that she had been there since early June after spending weeks drifting from one MS group to another between Texas, Nashville, and North Carolina. Oseguera fought to conceal a smile under his moustache. Flaca had just given him all the information he needed to track down Brenda.

After the interview, Flaca called her dad in Carrollton and had him pick her up and take her home. Oseguera then returned to his desk and began making phone calls to search for Brenda.

Oseguera was surprised when his police contact in northern Virginia knew exactly who he was asking about. Brenda, Oseguera’s contact said, was a wealth of information. Word was, she had even helped save the life of an Arlington County detective. At the end of the phone call, Oseguera took note of Mike Porter’s number. His contact explained before hanging up that any out-of-state cops who wanted to talk to Brenda had to go through Porter first. Oseguera pushed the button for a new line and immediately dialed Porter’s number. He was relieved when the detective picked up.

Porter told Oseguera his informant was open to on-the-record interviews and sharing information that was verified. Oseguera was incredulous. The same girl who had comfortably lied to his face about the Calzada murder had for some reason decided to become an informant. If Porter and the rest were right, Oseguera reasoned as he listened to Porter, Brenda would speak to him about what really happened the night Calzada died. Brenda was already providing information on a number of cases, but Porter made it clear that before Oseguera could speak with her, he would have to go through her legal guardian, Greg Hunter. Porter gave Oseguera Hunter’s phone number.

“Hello, this is Detective Rick Oseguera with the Grand Prairie Police Department,” Oseguera started when Greg answered the phone, hopeful of some cooperation from what most cops consider the other team. “I am investigating a murder case down here in Texas and I would like to speak to your client regarding what she knows,” Oseguera explained in a formal tone.

“I was expecting you,” Greg said. “Brenda will tell you everything she knows about your case, but you have to agree not to prosecute her before I can allow you to walk away with any signed statements,” the lawyer began.

Hunter drove a hard bargain. Oseguera thanked the lawyer for his time, and stepped out to find Sergeant Alan Patton, the detective who had initially found Javier’s remains. Oseguera explained that Brenda’s immunity was on the table in exchange for all the information she had on the night of Javier Calzada’s murder. Through Greg, Brenda agreed to produce a statement, and based on her reputation with the cops in Virginia, Oseguera thought the information would be valid. He still wanted to arrest Brenda, but he needed her information more than he needed her in jail. Patton agreed. Now Oseguera had to get through to the Dallas County prosecutor’s office before he could talk to Brenda again.

Weeks passed before Oseguera, Greg, a judge in Dallas, and an assistant district attorney ironed out the details of Brenda’s immunity agreement. During this time, Oseguera renewed his efforts to tie up loose ends on the Calzada case before he traveled to Virginia to interview Brenda.

The same week Oseguera spoke with Greg, he called Warren Navidad, a friend of Javier’s whom the detective had interviewed the first week he was on the case. He recalled that Warren had always been able to answer the tough questions in earlier interviews. Warren agreed to come to the station for questioning, and within hours they were seated in the interview room in Grand Prairie. Oseguera pulled out a stack of photos. He first showed Warren a photo of Flaca. He recognized her as a girl from school, but couldn’t remember if he had seen her at Bachman Lake, where Javier Calzada liked to spend time with his friends. Oseguera then showed Warren a photo of Veto. Warren immediately recognized him and said he’d seen Veto before at Bachman Lake. This piece of information set Oseguera’s wheels spinning.

He decided to meet again with Flaca the next day.

“I believe you know who got in the backseat with you, and maybe you’re scared to identify him, but I need to know,” Oseguera said once he and Flaca were again seated in the interview room. “I’ve been in contact with Brenda Paz’s attorney and I know who the guy is,” Oseguera added, thinking it might ease Flaca’s mind to know Veto had already been fingered.

He then showed her a photo lineup, and she pointed to Veto’s photo.

“Veto was the one in the backseat with me, and he was the one who pointed the gun at Javier’s head,” Flaca said in timid tones, this time
revealing his identity. Oseguera pushed a little harder and found out her ex-boyfriend was also there. She said he was locked up in North Carolina for a stabbing and was wanted in Los Angeles for murder. Little Zico was the guy Brenda had fingered for Mike Porter, who then passed along the information to police in North Carolina.

Flaca said Little Zico was mean. She showed Oseguera a scar on her upper left chest where Zico had stabbed her with a piece of broken glass when she broke up with him in North Carolina. It had happened before she returned to Texas when she first spoke with Oseguera. After he concluded his second interview with Flaca, Oseguera called the Dallas County Jail to make sure Veto and the other four suspects were still in custody.

Armed with more information from Flaca and Warren, Oseguera planned to meet with all of Veto’s cellmates to see if Veto had talked to any of them about Javier’s murder. He was also careful enough to schedule a meeting with the Dallas district attorney to compare notes before he traveled to Virginia to interview Brenda. It was very important that he and the attorney were on the same page on this. Oseguera had struggled to get anything out of Brenda before. As far as he was concerned she was still a tough and smart gangster. He still couldn’t believe that she was willing to talk to him. This third interview with Brenda would put everything on the line; either she had the information to nail down his case or he would be in a tight spot to prove that Veto had killed Javier. This interview was his last chance to get all the information he needed, and he was determined to get it right.

T
he FBI is a law enforcement organization with a long history of combating organized crime. For decades, federal agents have targeted a number of gangs, including the Bloods, the Crips, and the Mexican Mafia, but in 2002, the FBI still had not registered the Mara Salvatrucha. Because MS-related cases still circulated only in local and state courts, the importance of the Mara Salvatrucha as a nationwide threat had not reached the upper levels of law enforcement.

The FBI reached out to local law enforcement by assigning its agents to Safe Streets Task Forces, created in 1992 to target violent crime and gang activity. These task forces used the FBI’s investigative resources, such as a national DNA database, and the bureau’s connection with federal prosecutors, who sought heavier sentences from federal-level criminal statutes.

Location alone determined federal involvement in the investigation of the Joaquin Diaz murder. Denis murdered Joaquin in a federal park, pushing the National Park police to the forefront of the investigation just five days before the attacks of September 11, 2001, forced the FBI to focus on terrorism, not organized crime or even street gangs. Joaquin Diaz’s murder put the Mara Salvatrucha on the federal radar, but it was at a time when people at the federal level who cared enough to look closely at street gangs had no time for anything but terrorists.

Few at the federal level recognized the MS as a national threat.
Even at the local level, it was difficult to establish the MS as a gang problem. Because of petty politics, budgetary considerations, and bureaucracy, street gangs were often ignored in the smaller cities and towns where the MS had begun to appear. Benign neglect was the status quo in most of these local jurisdictions. Many police chiefs and mayors preferred to deny there was a gang problem, even when it was clear to many cops on the street that the MS was thriving and growing fast in immigrant communities.

With local leaders in denial, FBI agents working in the Safe Street Task Forces were unable to respond to the MS. Los Angeles alone had embraced its gang problem, while most other cities around the country had not. FBI agents in other cities may have suspected the MS presence in their area, but without local support, they were not able to focus solely on that one gang. The task forces were a cooperative effort, and the FBI could not call the shots. As local leaders looked the other way, the MS spread across the country and built a significant membership in dozens of states before there was any semblance of an organized federal response. Greg and Detective Mike Porter’s growing worry for Brenda’s long-term safety, in part, sparked the FBI’s attention to the MS presence across the country, starting in northern Virginia.

Through the end of the summer and into early fall, Porter and Greg began to believe that Brenda might have been burned. Greg knew he was at the end of his rope after bouncing Brenda from one secure location to another. At the local level, there were no more options or legal tricks to keep her safe.

At the juvenile detention center in Fairfax, during one of the daily recreation periods in the early fall, Brenda was on the girls’ side of the gym when a young MS-13 member named Boxer broke away from the boys’ side. He turned and hurled a basketball at Brenda’s head and missed, but it got her attention. The gym fell silent when the basketball bounced with a reverberating clamor off the wall next to Brenda.

“We know you’re a rat,” Boxer yelled. “You’re dead,” he said, pointing directly at her.

She told Greg about the incident that night. She mentioned the kid was an MS member, but she didn’t know him. The basketball incident confirmed Greg’s suspicions. Brenda was burned. Someone in MS knew she was talking to the cops. After his conversation with Brenda, Greg began making calls and asking questions about the people who worked
at the juvenile detention facility. He had to know if someone on the facility staff might try to harm her.

Days later a custodian at the detention facility sauntered up to Brenda and said, “If you were in my old gang, you’d already be dead.” Greg did a background check on the girl and found out she used to be a member of the Bloods from Chicago and had come to work with troubled youth as part of a reform program. The girl still wore her colors though, always coming to work with a red shirt under her uniform.

Despite these threats, Greg felt that the juvenile detention center was still the safest place for Brenda in Virginia; but he knew it was only a short-term solution. Brenda would require protection for months, if not years. He needed more help than the state of Virginia could afford, so he began making the necessary calls to engage the FBI.

Months before Greg had met Brenda, FBI Special Agent Laurence Alexander was assigned to a Safe Streets Task Force in northern Virginia, working out of the FBI’s Washington, D.C., field office. His primary role was to investigate Latino street gangs. The former Marine embodied everything law enforcement looks for in an FBI agent. Laurence Alexander—Alex to his friends—was a straight shooter. His fail-safe integrity instantly impressed everyone who worked with him. Unlike the stereotypical FBI agent in a cheap polyester suit, Alexander was well dressed. He was quick to smile or make a joke, but just as stern as the next investigator when it came time to work.

When a contact told Alexander there was a witness in Fairfax who needed FBI assistance, he didn’t hesitate to act. At the time, Alexander had been attending a number of street gang–related meetings and was spending time with the one-or two-man county gang units. The Fairfax County Gang Unit was the largest in the region, and when the twelve-man team reached out for help, it got his attention.

“Look, we have a female witness,” Detective Mike Porter told Alexander when they first talked about Brenda. “She has a lot of intelligence on MS-13. And she was burned. There’s a threat out on the street against her, and we’re at a loss as to what we can do to help protect her.”

Apart from the threat that Brenda received inside the detention center, Greg and Porter believed the wrong person on the street might have seen something. Brenda had hopped in and out of a police car, laughing and talking in a friendly manner with Greg and Porter, on
one too many occasions. Any MS member who saw this activity had to assume that Brenda was a rat.

Alexander agreed to meet with Greg and Brenda at the end of September in a conference room at the Massey Building, Fairfax County’s unlikely police and fire department headquarters. It was a 1970s design not originally intended as police headquarters. Too tall to blend in with the Fairfax city skyline, its glass-paneled siding carried a dull brown tone that suggested boring business, not law enforcement. In the shadow of this ugly building sat one of the county’s most venerable attractions of the law enforcement community, a brick-and-mortar building older than the Civil War. The Fairfax County courthouse was first used in 1800, and graced the immediate area with the aura of a national monument to justice and the rule of law. Layers of reform ensured it was still in use. The two buildings, one tall and ugly, the other old and still important, made for an odd couple in the Fairfax County judicial complex.

Seated in a conference room inside the Massey Building, Alex, Greg, and Brenda went over her complete case. The meeting lasted nearly five hours. Alexander’s initial notion of Brenda was similar to that of most other law enforcement individuals—he was impressed. By now, Brenda could talk about her MS past with reservation only for Veto, Denis, and some of the friends she had made before her arrest. Brenda spoke candidly with him about MS activity in Virginia and a number of other states across the country. Alexander sat straight in his chair, didn’t make jokes, and took careful notes as Brenda talked and told him her stories. Alexander considered this chance to debrief a former MS member a first for him, while Brenda considered the meeting just like any other she’d had with Greg and other cops. Brenda thought Alexander was just too professional, and soon after their first meeting, she teasingly began calling him
El Frío
, the Cold One. As his nickname suggested, Alexander took her case very seriously. He immediately thought about how she could be useful as a federal witness in an upcoming trial against the Mara Salvatrucha.

Alexander thought of Assistant U.S. Attorney Ronald Walutes, who was prosecuting the Joaquin Diaz case. It had evolved into a federal capital murder case because the primary suspect, Denis Rivera, had been arrested with Brenda. Alexander didn’t know if Walutes had many witnesses for the case against Denis. He figured Brenda would be a perfect witness, and after contacting the attorney, Alexan
der set up a number of other meetings to get to know Brenda and her situation better.

Alexander had found Brenda intriguing. During their first meeting, he had her analyze a homicide photograph to see if she could deduce what had happened. She had not been at the crime, but was able to explain why the body was found where it was, based just on her knowledge of the gang and what she learned from looking at the photograph.

The victim was an MS member marked for punishment. He was to receive a 13, Brenda explained, which meant that, like the jumping-in process, he was to be beaten by four or five fellow members for a count of thirteen seconds. But when he was taking off his shirt, someone decided to shoot him. That was why his body was found with the shirt halfway off.

“Wow, where did she get that from?” Alexander had asked himself. He thought her insight was unprecedented. Alexander was stunned that she had pegged the situation accurately without knowing much more than what the photograph suggested.

After he learned enough about Brenda to feel confident she was telling the truth, Alexander was convinced Greg was right. She was a strong candidate for the Federal Witness Protection Program. He immediately began working on a threat assessment for Brenda. It was a critical document required for her entrance into witness protection. He listed over a dozen individuals as direct threats to Brenda’s life, including Denis and Veto, and three of the men who were present with Denis at the Diaz killing.

The threat assessment was only the beginning of processing anyone into witness protection. A U.S. attorney must also sponsor the witness, providing in detail the reasons why an individual should be allowed into the program. This was where Walutes’s participation was crucial. The final decision rested solely with the attorney general, a considerable bottleneck in the process, given the busy schedule of the nation’s top lawyer.

Brenda and Greg met Alexander and Walutes five days after the initial meeting in the Massey Building. Walutes knew of Brenda through his FBI connections and from local police officers. All had vouched for her. At the meeting, Walutes told Greg that he was willing to sponsor Brenda’s entrance into witness protection. He clarified his intention by stating that her entrance was not conditional upon her
testimony against Denis Rivera in the upcoming Joaquin Diaz murder trial.

She could still be helpful. Like the icing on the cake, Brenda could take the stand and place the facts of his prosecution against Denis in a broader context. Her knowledge of the gang grounded the confessions of some of the gang members who had decided to become federal witnesses in exchange for a reduced sentence, Walutes explained. Brenda’s testimony could also establish the fact that Denis was aware of his own guilt. Even the mention of taking the stand against Denis made Brenda nervous. Greg picked up on the subtle change in her attitude during the meeting, and made a mental note to revisit the issue with Brenda in private. This was a serious meeting, even Brenda wasn’t kidding around. It wasn’t the time or place to explore Brenda’s feelings about testifying against her boyfriend.

Walutes wanted to prosecute Denis and Fiel, the clique leader who had backed him on his decision to kill Joaquin. The U.S. attorney said that as the government moved forward with other MS prosecutions, Brenda could also be very helpful. Federal prosecutors in northern Virginia believed the best way to dismantle the Mara Salvatrucha was by treating the street gang like an organized criminal group.

Walutes was thinking of the Racketeer-Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, or RICO. Since its inception, it had been used successfully to break apart organized criminal families like the Cosa Nostra in New York, the Hells Angels, and others. For a RICO charge, two overt criminal acts needed to be connected to a criminal organization. Homicide, a drug enterprise, or rape all qualified. Proving the overt acts was easy. Proving the actors were part of a criminal enterprise that conspired to commit those acts was much harder. As a legal tool, RICO was essential for dismantling organized crime because it allowed prosecutors to focus on the criminal organization, not necessarily the crimes committed by individuals within the organization. In any RICO case against the MS, Brenda could provide the details that would help the prosecution establish the MS-13 as a criminal enterprise that conspired to commit federal crimes.

Before the end of the meeting, Walutes made it clear to Greg that Brenda’s age presented a complication. Witness protection normally only accepted adults. Kids did enter the program, but an adult, usually a parent, always accompanied them. Unaccompanied minors in witness protection were an entirely new concept, and Brenda was still sixteen.
Walutes and Greg agreed she would have to be emancipated, or legally declared an adult, before they could pass her witness protection application to the attorney general’s office.

Greg felt determined after the meeting. He finally had a goal and the path was clear. He had to have Brenda emancipated, and then he could pass her over to the U.S. Marshals, who ran witness protection and had a well-known reputation for never having lost a person under their care. If accepted, Brenda would be the first minor allowed into witness protection.

Before he could focus on Brenda’s emancipation process, Greg had to first finish his business with Detective Oseguera. Since the final weeks of summer, Greg had been in touch with Oseguera, and had butted heads consistently with the Dallas County prosecutor, who insisted that Brenda be extradited to Texas to answer questions about the night Javier Calzada died. Greg felt no pressure. He knew the legal fiction he signed with Porter to keep Brenda in Fairfax County would hold.