Tuesday, May 23, 2006

SIX ARRESTED FOR PLACENTIA SHOOTING

Agents arrested six people in the last week connected to a gang-related homicide of an 18-year-old man, police reported Monday.
An underage boy and Kandice Noel Ortega, 19, both of Placentia, were found and arrested Friday in Arizona after officers say they fatally shot Manuel Rodriguez, 18, on May 15 and left the state.
Placentia police also on Sunday arrested the underage boy's parents, Juan Lopez Suarez and Luz Elena Suarez, along with their daughter, Ruby. Officials believe they helped the boy escape, Placentia Lt. John Chandler said.
Agents also arrested Hector Suarez, 45, in Arizona on charges of helping the suspects flee. Ortega and the boy waived extradition and are currently being held in Orange County, while Suarez hasn't waived extradition, police said.
Rodriguez died after being shot multiple times in the 1700 block of Vincente Avenue, Chandler said.

the charge of state fugitive have been drop for kandice Noel Ortega aka ( Ashley Ortega Lizaraga ) charges have been also drop for the parents and sister of the underage boy.

People vs. Peter G. Espinoza

Finally Justice For Alan Doyle, a 16-year-old star wrestler at Esperanza High in Anaheim when he was stabbed in Corona in 1997.
Peter G Espinoza, a U.S. citizen who had just turned 18, fled to Mexico charged with first-degree murder, which would bring a sentence of 25 years to life. In her opening statement yesterday, Espinoza's attorney, Judith Gweon, said he did kill Doyle, but was drunk. The crime wasn't premeditated or committed with malice, she says, so he should be found guilty of involuntary manslaughter. That brings a sentence of between two and four years. A second-degree conviction, also an option, would bring 16 years to life.
Espinoza, now 25, a pudgy man with closely cropped black hair, sat to the right of his attorney at the defense table. He wore a gray, short-sleeve shirt, necktie and black trousers. I never saw a scintilla of emotion in his meaty, clean-shaven face.
Representing the state is a businesslike prosecutor named Jeanne Roy. Sitting to her right was Detective Ron Anderson, a 26-year Corona cop who worked the case from the start and was determined to bring Espinoza in before he retired to an Idaho trout lake. He did get him – due in part to research in Baja on his own dime, U.S. marshals and international relationships he'd rather not divulge.
Alan Doyle was well-represented in the spectators' seats by his father, David, and a brother, both of whom live in O.C.; several relatives who flew in from Fort Wayne, Ind.; and a handful of his high school friends. And, of course, Rizzi. Witnesses included four friends who watched him dying on the sidewalk at a Corona mall.
Only Roy's case was put on yesterday, but the biggest disputes appear to be over whether Espinoza was drunk, as his lawyer contends, and whether, as the prosecutor contends, he told his mother just days before that he wanted to "kill someone."
Witnesses say Doyle and his buddies, dressed in black death-metal garb, got out of the concert of a band called Obituary about 1 a.m. Nov. 30, 1997, and decided to walk to a nearby Del Taco.
There they encountered four boys in a white car, one of whom allegedly yelled at them, "Devil worshipers must die." Doyle and his friends started walking back to the concert hall. About halfway back, up rolled the same car and out came Espinoza, running toward them.
"Where are you from?" he said as he approached Doyle. Before Doyle could answer, Espinoza thrust a knife into his torso once, then turned and ran back to the car, which sped away. Doyle's aorta was almost completely severed. Three friends ran to find a pay phone. One, Joel Calvert, stayed behind, held Doyle's hand and futilely tried to stop the bleeding.
"He said he knew he was going to die," Calvert testified. "The last thing he said was, 'I'll see you on the other side.'"
Roy repeatedly asked witnesses – including one of Espinoza's friends – whether it appeared Espinoza was drunk, whether he stumbled when he ran. No, they said. Detective Anderson testified that three days after the murder, Espinoza's mother told him that her son had told her the prior week that "he was really angry and wanted to kill someone." On the stand yesterday, she denied saying that.
I don't know how Gweon will show Espinoza was drunk, but she did say she will call an expert to talk about how, when someone is intoxicated, "part of the brain becomes numb to the senses (that people) can act without thinking."
Rizzi was stoic throughout, even during autopsy testimony that had others sobbing. Later, in the hallway, she explained, "I've had eight years to deal with it."

Monday, May 22, 2006

THE PETER "SANA" OJEDA CASE

The first man convicted of charges stemming from a probe into links between street-level drug sales and the prison-based Mexican Mafia was sentenced to more than 24 years in prison, a prosecutor said Thursday.Robert Ocampo, 29, is the first man convicted as a result of Operation Nemesis, said Assistant U.S. Attorney Richard Lee.
Alleged ringleader Peter Ojeda, 63, of La Habra, was among 29 people arrested as a result of the two-year undercover investigation.
Ocampo was a middleman whose main contact was the No. 2 man in Ojeda's organization, authorities said.The sentence of 24 years and 4 months was handed down by U.S. District Judge David Carter on Monday, Lee said.Fifteen of the 29 defendants were charged with being part of a Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization -- the RICO law created largely to attack organized crime.Among those facing the RICO charge are Ojeda, along with alleged No. 2 and No. 3 leaders, Marco Diaz, 31, of Santa Ana, and Jose Becerra, 38, of Placentia. They face up to life in prison if convicted, Lee said.Trial for Ojeda, Diaz and Becerra and 11 others is set to start Sept. 19, Lee said.Fourteen of the 29, including Ocampo, also were charged with conspiracy to distribute drugs.Since being indicted last June, 13 of the 29 defendants have pleaded guilty, and Ocampo was the only one to be tried so far, Lee said.Ocampo, referred to as "Wicked" in wiretapped phone conversations, was convicted Oct. 28 of conspiracy to distribute more than 150 grams of methamphetamine, an amount that made him eligible for a mandatory 10-year prison sentence.Based on the amount of methamphetamine and "his extensive criminal history," Ocampo received the harshest sentence so far in the case, Lee said.He had rejected a plea bargain prior to trial, said his attorney, David Kaloyanides.Other sentences handed down so far range from two years in prison for Ismael Esquivel and Orlando Alvarado; 30 months for David Melgoza and Ramon Meza; 60 months for Jose Martinez; 70 months for Diego Moreno; 108 months for Robert Cervantes; 144 months for Abel Azevedo and 210 months for Lawrence Morales

Sunday, May 21, 2006

Witness Is Kill After Gang Murder Trial

A man who provided critical testimony that led to the murder convictions of two fellow gang members was found dead of gunshot wounds, his body dumped alongside a Beaumont road, a law enforcement official said Wednesday.

The body of Melquiades Jose Rojas, 18, of San Bernardino was found Tuesday off Oak Valley Parkway, more than two months after he testified that James Fuentes and Melecio Reyes were on the same San Bernardino street where Francisco Ferreira, 25, was killed in a drive-by shooting in June 2003.

"Beaumont police identified the body , backtracked and found out he had recently testified in a homicide case," said Cheryl Kersey, a prosecutor in the San Bernardino County district attorney's office hard-core-criminal and gang unit.

Kersey said San Bernardino police were helping Beaumont police in the investigation, seeking to establish whether Rojas' death was connected to the trial. Kersey declined to say whether that link had already been established.

In court, Rojas testified that he was a member of the West Side Verdugo street gang — the same one to which prosecutors said Reyes and Fuentes belonged. Rojas testified Jan. 31 that Reyes and Fuentes visited his home, across the street from the Ferreira home in the 200 block of 24th Street, in the minutes before he heard gunshots.

Another neighbor testified she saw Ferreira collapse as he tried to retreat into his home after the shooting.

FORMER ARYAN BROTHER, A WITtNESS IN RACKETERING TRIAL

The Aryan Brotherhood provided two-time convicted murderer Kevin Roach with "a sense of family" and conferred the prestige of membership in "the Special Forces" of prison gangs, he said. It also meant protection: No one touched a brother without incurring the wrath of every other gang member.

Still, Roach said, belonging carried a steep price — killing without hesitation when ordered.

"You always had to answer the bell," he said Thursday in federal court.

Roach was chained to the floor behind the witness stand in U.S. District Court in Santa Ana as he testified in the racketeering trial of alleged Aryan Brotherhood leaders Barry "the Baron" Mills, T.D. "the Hulk" Bingham, Edgar "the Snail" Hevle and Christopher O. Gibson.

From the start of his probationary period with the gang on St. Patrick's Day 1990 to the time he defected from its upper ranks in 1998 and became a government informer, Roach said he acted as both strategist and enforcer for the gang.

Because of his rank, Roach is among the key defectors helping the government build its case against the alleged leaders of what the government calls one of the nation's deadliest, best-organized prison gangs.

Roach testified that while in federal prison in Marion, Ill., his duties for the Brotherhood included passing messages, attacking inmates who disrespected the gang and being the "designated driver." Because he didn't drink, he made sure gang members who drank homemade brew didn't hurt themselves.

Roach said failure to follow Brotherhood orders meant being put "in the hat" — slang for being targeted for a hit. In the Brotherhood's early years, Roach said, an intended victim's name was written on a piece of paper and placed in a hat among blank pieces; the brother who drew the name had to do the murder.

Roach testified that in 1996, after he and Mills were transferred to the federal "supermax" federal penitentiary in Florence, Colo., they plotted to expand the Brotherhood's racketeering operation to the streets. They hatched a plan, he said, to recruit inmates with five years or less left on their sentences and train them to commit crimes, so upon release they could send money to those still behind bars.

In 1998, Roach wrote a coded letter to a released gang member who seemed to be straying from the fold. Roach urged him to give up the construction business and follow his dream of becoming a restaurateur.

In reality, Roach testified, he was ordering the gang member to start cooking up methamphetamine for sale, or he would be killed.

The failure of freed gang members to meet their obligations to brothers still inside proved frustrating to Mills, Roach said.

"There was a discussion of forming up a squad to do away with guys like that," said the bull-necked Roach, who spoke in a raspy Boston accent.

He said the Brotherhood killed one gang member for engaging in openly homosexual activity, and killed another inmate for informing to authorities. He said the Brotherhood provided protection for mob boss John Gotti in prison, and Mills hoped that Gotti would supply him with a good lawyer to handle his appeal on a murder conviction.

BLOOD MONEY

The billion-dollar Mexican drug cartels that operate on both sides of our border may be more powerful than the Mafia at its peak. And the notorious Tijuana Cartel’s coziness with the U.S.-based Mexican Mafia threatens a chilling escalation of violence and terrorism on our turf.

There were bodies everywhere,” said one of the cops at the scene. “It looked like a scene from Rambo.”
The grisly massacre—the worst yet in Mexico’s ongoing drug war—occurred last September 17 in the suburb of El Sauzal, 5 miles north of Ensenada and just 60 miles south of San Diego. The 19 victims included five women, seven children, two infants and a 17-year-old girl who was eight months pregnant. A gang of men dressed in black pulled them all from their beds at 3 a.m., herded them outside and machine-gunned them as they lay face down on a patio.
Mexican authorities later arrested three suspects linked to the ruthless Tijuana Cartel run by the notorious Arellano Félix brothers. The cartel’s enforcer, Ramón Eduardo Arellano-Félix, suspected in the killing of a Roman Catholic cardinal in 1993, was already on the FBI’s 10 Most Wanted List.
The atrocity prompted many analysts to decry the increasing “Colombianization” of Mexico’s “narco-democracy.” In a syndicated editorial, crusading Tijuana journalist—and assassination-attempt survivor—J. Jesús Blancornelas warned Mexicans and Americans alike that the Baja killings signaled “a chilling escalation in the business of drug-related executions.”
Indeed, many el norte law-enforcement agencies warily viewed the Ensenada massacre as a calculated act of terrorism. A message. Narcotraficantes gained control of Colombia in the 1980s through extortion and a brazen willingness to kill anyone from police to politicians to journalists—and their relatives. The same has been happening in Mexico for the past decade. Could the United States be next?
Los Angeles Sheriff’s Narcotics Bureau Sergeant Ed Huffman explains the cause for concern: “The Mexican cartels are currently more active in Southern California than any other crime group. They are very violent in Mexico. And their organizations work both sides of the border.”
The Tijuana Cartel, which controls the western half of the 2,000-mile United States–Mexico border, and the competing Juárez Cartel, which controls the eastern half, have emerged as the two dominant forces in the Mexican drug trade. As many as 100 smaller groups are allied with or pay “tolls” to one or the other. Estimates of their combined earnings from the smuggling of cocaine, heroin and marijuana into the United States range from $10 billion to $30 billion a year. They spend an estimated $500 million a year on bribes—about twice the entire budget of the Mexican attorney general’s office.

The cartels have bought top politicians and military leaders. They’ve made a play at two presidents. They’ve built million-dollar “narco tunnels” under the border and turned major banks into money laundries. Pop singers write narcocorridos (narco ballads) about them. One expert described the Mexican cartels as being 10 times as powerful as the U.S. Mafia at its peak.
The Arellano-Félix or Tijuana Cartel, many experts say, is now one of the most powerful criminal organizations in the world. Ramón, Benjamin and Javier Arellano-Félix are second-generation narcotraficantes, sophisticated billionaire yuppies with their own jets and state-of-the-art surveillance and communications systems. They have squads of lawyers, CPAs and consultants. They have long been operating at large, turning up in Hawaii, Las Vegas, Los Angeles and here in San Diego. Most officials believe they now run their operation from inside the United States.
Although modern, the Arellanos remain brazenly primitive when it comes to violence, authorities say, employing “plomo o plata” (lead or silver—i.e., bullets or bribes) to advance their interests.
“Killing is a party for the Arellanos,” one insider-turned-informant told reporters in 1996. They’ve shown no compunction about killing law enforcement officials. Among their alleged victims: Tijuana Police Chief Federico Benítez-López, chief prosecutor José Arturo Ochoa-Palacios, Baja prosecutor Sergio Moreno-Pérez, federal prosecutor Jesús Romero Magaña and Tijuana’s federal police commander, Ernesto Ibarra-Santes—all brutally ambushed. The Arellanos also are believed to have been involved in the Tijuana assassination of presidential candidate Luis Donaldo Colosio in 1994.
The Ensenada massacre was part of an internecine war that produces an annual body count in the thousands. While some reports indicated it was just another hit that got out of hand, some observers were not so sure. Cartel violence is a winding road of incidents triggered by previous acts of treachery and betrayal. Authorities and citizens alike could only speculate if this was again the case.
Just a week before the Ensenada massacre, the bullet-riddled corpse of drug lord Rafaél Muñoz-Talavera was found in the trunk of a car in Juárez. At the very least, this was an interesting coincidence. Talavera had been one of Mexico’s top traffickers in 1989 when he was connected to the biggest drug bust in U.S. history—the seizure of 21.5 tons of cocaine at a warehouse in Sylmar, near Los Angeles. After serving a few years in a Mexican prison, Talavera returned to the drug trade. At the time of his death, it was rumored he was trying to take control of the Juárez Cartel, unstable since the June 1997 death of its leader, Amado Carillo-Fuentes. Some believed Talavera, perhaps as an agent of the Arellanos, was behind Carillo-Fuentes’ bizarre demise.
Carillo-Fuentes, known as “Lord of the Skies”—for the fleet of Boeing 727s that he used to fly in Colombian cocaine—was Mexico’s number-one drug baron at the time of his death. His murder triggered at least 60 killings: lawyers, accountants, traffickers, innocent bystanders. The slaughter was so brutal that thousands of Juárez residents took to the streets in a November 1997 protest march.
Although it was initially reported that Carillo-Fuentes had died from complications after plastic surgery at a Mexico City hospital, it was later revealed that he was, in fact, overdosed by his own doctors. The tortured bodies of his three plastic surgeons turned up four months later. Some believe Carillo-Fuentes’ brother Vincent tortured the doctors to find out who paid them. Some believe it was the Arellanos, or perhaps Talavera, acting on their behalf. Others speculate that Vincent, who has since assumed leadership of the Juárez Cartel, had his brother removed. Nobody knows for sure. The cartels don’t issue press releases when they decide to reorganize.
Part of U.S. law enforcement’s concern about the cartels’ northern encroachment is their potential influence on the Mexican Mafia—a separate and distinct criminal entity that controls many of Southern California’s drug-dealing street gangs. While it’s apparent the cartels are suppliers and the gangs are distributors, little is known about the nature of their relationship.
The violence of the Mexican Mafia, or la Eme, while highly feared in the United States, is restrained whencompared to that of the Mexican cartels. “The Mexican Mafia tends to be more secretive and selective when it comes to murder, “ says one DEA agent. “The cartels butcher them and leave them, like in Ensenada, to let people know they’re serious.”
La Eme has, in fact, acted to curb the killing of innocents, directing gang members to do “walk-ups” instead of “drive-bys.” San Diego police statistics show this has led to at least a 28 percent reduction in drive-by shootings since 1995. Some officers say it’s probably 50 percent. The Mexican Mafia has demonstrated that it considers too much violence to be bad for business. The worst recent la Eme incident in Southern California was the 1995 El Monte slaying of five—including two children. The hit men killed not only their target but a whole family. One of the perpetrators was later slain in prison—reportedly on orders from the Mexican Mafia.
The only known link between la Eme and the Arellano-Félix cartel was Davíd Barrón-Corona, a member of the Logan 30s, a division of one of San Diego’s largest and most violent street gangs. Barron’s story is a troubling tale of two cities, two nations and two criminal empires. Born in Tijuana, he emigrated to San Diego in 1970 and became a naturalized U.S. citizen. A gang member at 13 and a killer at 16, Barrón was 18 when he was sent to San Quentin, where he joined la Eme, reportedly carrying out a number of prison hits. He spent the 1980s in and out of U.S. prisons, finally moving to Tijuana in 1990 to work as a bodyguard for the Arellano-Félix brothers.
Barrón was soon wanted on both sides of the border for a number of brutal crimes. According to San Diego police, Barrón recruited Logan 30s street gang members as gatilleros (hired killers) for the Arellanos. Years later, indictments filed by U.S. Attorneys in San Diego would state that Barrón enlisted “henchmen from among Logan Heights gang members ... who were then directed to murder and kidnap rivals in order to secure and maintain the Arellanos’ control over drug trafficking along the border.” Barrón and associates were also wanted for the killings of two federal prosecutors and, most notably, for the assassination of Cardinal Juan Jesús Posadas-Ocampo on May 24, 1993 in Guadalajara.
The killing of the cardinal, a crime that shocked the world and turned a harsh media spotlight on the Mexican cartels, was actually a mistake. According to accounts later obtained by authorities, Barrón and his San Diego Logan 30s henchmen—along with Ramón Arellano-Félix himself—were at the Guadalajara airport to kill rival Sinaloa cartel boss Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán-Loera. The cardinal, sitting in a car in front of Guzmán’s armored Buick, was mistaken for the crime boss. The gang opened fire, killing the cardinal, his driver and six others in a hail of bullets.
The attempt on Guzmán-Loera was believed to be in retaliation for an attempted 1993 hit on Ramón and Javier Arellano-Félix at the disco Christine in Puerto Vallarta. Guzman had sent 40 gunmen into the nightclub, where the Arellano brothers were having a party. Nine people died in the wild shootout that ensued. Davíd Barrón reportedly killed a number of Guzman’s henchmen before saving the Arellanos by spiriting them away.
Barrón finally met his end on Thanksgiving Day 1997, while attempting to assassinate J. Jesús Blancornelas, editor of the Tijuana weekly newspaper Zeta. Blancornelas, who had aggressively investigated the Tijuana Cartel, was ambushed by Barrón and 10 assailants, who sprayed his Ford Explorer with shotgun and machine-gun fire. Blancornelas survived four bullet wounds, but his driver/bodyguard was killed. Barrón, 34, was felled by a bullet fragment fired by his own gang. He was wearing a bulletproof vest and socks with four-leaf clovers. His body was covered with tattoos, including EME across his chest, LHTS (for Logan Heights) and 16 skulls—one for each of his hits.
U.S. authorities described Barrón as “an important member of the criminal organization headed by the Arellano-Félix brothers.” The fact that he was also affiliated with the Mexican Mafia was troubling. Sergeant David Contreras of the SDPD Gang Suppression Unit explains: “It’s believed that Davíd Barrón’s overall plan was to recruit Mexican Mafia members into his own little army of killers, work for the Arellano-Félix cartel as assassins and eventually incorporate the Mexican Mafia with them.”
Some have speculated that Barrón and the Mexican Mafia had designs on taking over the Arellano cartel. Whatever his plan, Barrón obviously had forsaken la Eme’s restrained approach toward violence and embraced the more savage ways of the Tijuana cartel.
In February 1998, nine other San Diego gang members were indicted in U.S. federal court on conspiracy charges tying them to the Arellano-Félix cartel. Former SDPD Chief Jerry Sanders told reporters that San Diego was “in a position where we are sharing criminals with Mexico, unfortunately.” Three of those indicted have since copped pleas and received sentences ranging from 18 to 20 years. Six others remain at large. The most notorious of these, Alfredo “Big Popeye” Araujo-Ávila and Marcos “Pato” Quiñones-Sánchez, like David Barrón-Corona, are also believed to have ties with la Eme.
A 1997 Los Angeles trial of 13 alleged Mexican Mafia members—the largest organized-crime prosecution in L.A. history —provided many revelations about la Eme. The evidence, including some 300 audio- and videotapes, tied defendants to the killings or attempted murders of 25 people and the use of extortion and threats to control Southern California street gangs and drug sales. Three of the murder victims, including gang counselor Ana Lizarraga, had served as advisers on the 1992 movie American Me, a fictional portrayal of la Eme. The trial ended in 12 convictions and 10 life sentences.
Task force investigations of both the cartels and la Eme are ongoing in Southern California. The Arellanos’ reputed trafficking chief in Los Angeles, Jorge “Jefe” Castro, and eight others were indicted on federal drug charges in July 1998. Cocaine shipments totaling 7,600 pounds and more than $15 million in cash allegedly tied to Castro were seized at locations throughout Southern California, including Escondido.
Last February, 10 drug traffickers were arrested in San Diego, Los Angeles, Orange and Riverside counties, some of them identified by the FBI as being “connected with” the Arellano-Félix cartel. Another investigation spearheaded by the U.S. Attorney culminated at the same time with predawn raids by 200 officers and the arrests of 16 suspected Mexican Mafia members throughout Los Angeles County.
Fortunately, most gang activity in San Diego to date has nothing to do with the cartels or the Mexican Mafia. “Most of our gang shootings occur over girls, cars, jewelry and shoes,” says Lieutenant Melvin Maxwell of the SDPD Street Gang Unit. He points out that only eight killings of San Diego’s 42 last year were gang-related.
FBI stats for 1997 show there were 67 murders in San Diego. Los Angeles, by contrast, had 576—half of which are estimated to be gang-related.
Special Agent Vince Rice of the DEA’s San Diego office worked the border in San Ysidro for five years. “We have no proof of the Mexican Mafia controlling local gangs, and I don’t know if anybody does, because those guys don’t talk about it. But it’s kind of understood they have some kind of affiliation.”
Garland Peed of the San Diego District Attorney’s Gang Unit says: “Most of their power is inside [the prisons]. Street gangs fear them because if they do go into custody, they’re exposed to them.”
Sergeant David Contreras of the SDPD says that the Mexican Mafia doesn’t actually control any street gangs in San Diego. “They have influence because of the fear and intimidation,” Contreras says, “but we don’t have that problem where they tax gangs 10 percent, like they do in L.A.”
But San Diego deputy D.A. Marty Martins, who works as a liaison at the DEA, disagrees. The Mexican Mafia may not tax the gangs 10 percent on all their dealings, he says, but it does tax them on drug transactions.
The DEA’s Rice worked with two gang informants who turned up dead in Tijuana —shot execution style in the back of the heads—even after he warned them not to go there. “They waited for them to cross the border,” he says. “Gangs prefer to do their hits in Mexico, because they know they won’t get the same attention as they would in the U.S.”
Some believe this explains the relatively low number of gang killings in San Diego compared to Los Angeles. But evidence indicates that some victims dumped in Tijuana have actually been snatched up first in San Diego, where they were murdered. In one year (1994), Tijuana authorities say, the bodies of five San Diego murder victims turned up across the border
SDPD’s Contreras doesn’t believe San Diego will ever experience anything like the cartel violence in Mexico, where 12 officers were killed this year in a three-month period. “Our department is very well prepared for them, both physically and mentally,” he says. “They know the consequences. We have good intelligence from working with DEA, federal, state and local agencies. We know their tactics. And their money doesn’t buy many police officers here.”
Nonetheless, SDPD has already taken precautionary steps, instituting an annual safety course called the International Police Programs. These workshops present officers with varied scenarios, teaching them how to best survive attacks, how to conduct “hot stops” on felony suspects and confront individuals who are possibly armed.
Opinion is split on whether Baja-style violence will soon reach San Diego. Our justice system isn’t as corrupt as Mexico’s, experts say. Others, however, warn that the cartels are practiced in the art of corruption and that more U.S. drug cops are succumbing to their often staggeringly huge bribes. And unlike the Mexican Mafia, the cartels may not shy away from a war with law enforcement.
Laura Birkmier, an assistant U.S. Attorney in San Diego, allows as how there is some concern; a prosecutor involved in a cartel-related case, in fact, received some threats last year. “It’s not commonplace,” says Birkmier, “but there are cases where U.S. federal prosecutors get threatened.”
Still, most U.S. drug cops are confident. Says one federal agent based in San Diego: “Let’s just say that if that ever happened [the cartels attacking U.S. law enforcement], our administration would probably give us the means and latitude to do what we had to do.”
Peace between the Tijuana and Juárez cartels, meanwhile, is unlikely. Any truce will be temporary and fraught with betrayal, experts say, for their war is not merely business but personal. An Arellano associate once infiltrated the organization of a Fuentes lieutenant, seducing his wife and persuading her to run away with him—after taking $7 million of her husband’s money. The Arellano man then had the woman decapitated and sent her head in a box to the Fuentes lieutenant. Officials believe he also drowned the man’s two children, throwing them off a bridge in Venezuela.
As for la Eme and the cartels, “there is a compelling logic for their collaboration and alliance,” says Peter H. Smith, UCSD’s director of Latin-American studies. “The Arellano-Félix organization wants local distributors. And to the Mexican Mafia, the Arellano-Félix cartel is like the Microsoft of their world.” Any alliance, of course, will be predatory, opportunistic and treacherous. Although he isn’t sure it will occur, Smith believes war between the two is a very real and “hellacious” possibility.
“My guess is that the culture of the two groups is less different than the environments in which they operate,” says Smith. If the two unite or cooperate, he says, one possible outcome is that the Mexican Mafia will become as brazenly violent as the Tijuana Cartel. “In that case, my guess is they would soon be out of business.”
The other possibility is that the Arellanos will learn from the Mexican Mafia and adopt a more subtle use of violence, much like the Cali cartel did in Colombia. “That is actually not a positive scenario,” Smith concludes. “It would make the Arellano-Félix cartel more durable and efficient, even stronger as an organization. It might lead to less violence in the short term—but to even greater power for them in the long term.”

2 convicted in mistaken-identity killing

Two reputed members of the Tony Rascals Gang were convicted of first-degree murder today for gunning down a 14-year-old eighth-grader they mistook for a rival gang member.
Kha Tran, 27, of Westminster and Christopher Diep, 22, of Houston face 50 years to life in state prison for their role in the June 8, 2002, shooting death of Edward Martin Fernandez Jr., a junior high school student who loved football, baseball and basketball and video games.
Deputy District Attorney Jennifer Contini argued that Tran and Diep were among a group of young men seeking retribution against the Asian Boys gang for the murder of a Tiny Rascals gang member in 2000.
The Asian Boys and Tiny Rascals have been enemies on the streets of Los Angeles and Orange County for many years, and their hatred boiled over at The Block of Orange in October 2000, when they rumbled in the parking lot of the popular mall, Contini said. Minot Ly, a Tiny Rascals leader, was stabbed to death, dying in the arms of his close friend Andrew Vu, 23, of Aliso Viejo, who also was stabbed.
Several members of the Asian Boys were convicted of Ly’s murder and sent to prison.
The animosity between the two gangs ignited again June 8, 2002, when Ken Tong, an affiliate of the Tiny Rascals, was watching the Los Angeles Lakers on television at the Ice Café, a cyber-café in Garden Grove, Conini argued.
At some point, Tong saw several members of the Asian Boys outside and phoned some friends. Meanwhile, Fernandez and several of his junior high school friends were playing video games inside the Ice Café before a planned sleep-over party.
Tran, Diep and Vu, all reputed members of the Tiny Rascals, jumped in two cars and raced over to confront the Asian Boys, Contini told the jury.
Before the trio could arrive, the Asian Boys apparently left. That’s when the Tiny Rascals made a huge mistake, Contini said. They thought the group of eighth-graders leaving the Ice Café in a taxi were the Asian Boys members.
The four eighth-graders, unaware of the bad blood between the two gangs, had only a few dollars between them to pay for the ride.
When the meter reached their limit, they told the driver to let them out – at one of the darkest spots on Adelle Street in Garden Grove. Fernandez, the last out of the cab, was paying the fare when he was shot five times. None of his friends were injured.
Vu was arrested a short time after the slaying. He was convicted of first-degree murder in December 2003 and is serving 25 years to life in prison. Tran and Diep were arrested months later. Tong, 21, of Stanton, pleaded guilty for his role and was sentenced to 23 years in prison

17-year-old held in weekend shooting of 14-year-old boy

A 17-year-old boy was being held at the Orange County Juvenile Hall today after being arrested in the apparent gang-related shooting of a 14-year-old boy over the weekend, police said.
The 14-year-old and two friends had been walking in the street and ignored a gang name called out to them, police said. He was superficially wounded in the leg by a bullet that ricocheted off the sidewalk.
The 17-year-old was arrested on suspicion of assault Wednesday after police searched his Costa Mesa home.

Juan Soria took part of the 1991 killings of his former girlfriend.

He was convicted of two murders and sat through the impassioned speeches of family members describing their loss, but still Juan Rodriguez Soria insists he is innocent.
“God knows I’m not guilty,’’ Soria, using a Spanish-speaking translator, told a judge at his sentencing today.
Orange County Superior Court Judge James Stotler didn’t buy it, even though Soria, 37, didn’t pull the trigger.
He sentenced Soria to 50 years to life in prison for his part in the shooting deaths of Altagracia Felix and Javier Contreras nearly 15 years ago.
In March, Soria was convicted of two counts of first-degree murder for his role in the Aug. 25, 1991, murders.
Today, the judge called Soria an “active defendant” who “clearly aided and abetted” his brother-in-law by following Soria’s former girlfriend and her new boyfriend home from a Buena Park bar. Soria then watched as the couple were shot to death, the judge said.
Two sisters orphaned by the shooting – the daughters of Altagarcia Felix – as well as a son of Javier Contreras spoke at the sentencing.
Rosie Hurtado, 33, showed a poster-sized collage of photos of her mother, and Contreras, her stepfather.
“She came to this country for a better fortune and unfortunately found death,’’ Hurtado said of her mother, who emigrated from Mexico.
Flora Ibarra, now 30, paused several times while talking, in order to collect herself.
“I needed her still, I needed him still,’’ Ibarra said of her mother and Contreras. “I was only 15. I had to grow up so fast.”
Rene Contreras decided this morning to speak about the loss of his father. He was 16 when Contreras died.
“We never had a father-son moment,’’ he said quietly.
Soria faced forward and didn’t look at the family members. But he did cry.
During the trial, witnesses testified that Soria and his brother-in-law, Francisco Patino, followed the victims when Felix chose to leave a Stanton bar with Contreras rather than stay with Soria. The couple were gunned down in their car.
Patino and Soria fled to their small hometown in Mexico, but Soria was captured in Florida in 2004 and extradited to Orange County for trial.
Patino, who fired the shots that killed Felix and Contreras, died last month in a shootout with police after a bar disturbance in Villa Purificacion municipality, south of Jalisco, according to Mexican news reports.

ANOTHER SHOTCALLER LOCK UP.

An Anaheim man imprisoned after two police officers and a civilian were killed in a 1987 helicopter crash while pursuing him has been charged with selling methamphetamine.
Vincent William Acosta, 38, who authorities say is a north Orange County leader of the Mexican Mafia, is also charged with possessing a gun and drugs. He appeared in court Wednesday where a $1-million bond was set. He could receive a 136-year prison sentence if convicted on all counts.
Acosta was arrested in 1987 after police helicopters from Newport Beach and Costa Mesa collided while chasing him. He was driving a stolen car.
Killed were Costa Mesa Officers James D. Ketchum, 39, and John W. Libolt, 39, and Jeffrey A. Pollard, 27, a civilian observer from Tustin who was riding with them.
Acosta led officers from five agencies on a 45-minute nighttime chase during which he drove as fast as 90 mph, without lights and on the wrong side of the road, before he fled on foot and was captured.
He spent about 10 years in prison for vehicular manslaughter after an appellate court overturned his conviction on three counts of murder.
Since his 1994 parole, Orange County prosecutors say, Acosta has served time in prison for felony child abuse, negligent discharge of a firearm, possession of a firearm by a felon, robberies, a residential burglary and assault with a firearm.
Acosta, who is only now eligible to be prosecuted under the three-strikes law, was arrested March 1 in the drug case.
Lt. Robert Oakley was piloting the Newport helicopter in 1987 and survived the crash. Oakley, who now oversees the joint helicopter division for the Costa Mesa and Newport Beach police departments, said there was "no question" that Acosta served too little prison time.
But he added that if Acosta was sent to prison for life, it would bring him and the victims' families little relief.
"How do you pay back the loss of three lives?" he asked.

GANG INTELLIGENCE

GANG INTELLIGENCE OFFICERS IN ORANGE COUNTY FOUND A LIST WITH THE NAMES OF PEOPLE THAT HAVE A GREENLIGHT IN OCJ THE MOST IMPORTANT ONES ARE FTROOP GANG AND ANAHEIM 18 ST OFFICERS ALSO BELIEVE THAT MEMBERS OF THE WEST MYRTLE GANG ARE STILL WORKING AS ENFORCERS FOR THE MEXICAN MAFIA.