Chapter 27
Both in San Francisco and D.C., leaders at every level of law enforcement that touched the Devil Horns investigation had arrived at a common conclusion. The case could not be allowed to play out any further, given the media scrutiny and public uproar surrounding the Bologna and Miranda murders. All the decision makers at all the various agencies involved agreed, from DOJ and HSI to the mayor of San Francisco and SFPD. The time to wrap up the investigation and take down 20th Street was now.
There comes a point in cases like this, where the gang’s tentacles extend so far and wide, that a decision has to be made about when to pull the trigger and start hacking off its main limbs. Except for some outlying targets left on Santini’s wish list, including the 20th Street coke king Chachi and Casper’s brother Snoopy, the Big Homie calling shots from his prison cell in Honduras, the clique in San Francisco was thoroughly set up for a full-scale takedown.
Arresting thirty gang members one at a time was not an option, since they would definitely be tipped off and run. On the other hand, simultaneously arresting so many thugs who resided throughout the Mission and across the Bay Area entailed a huge logistical and tactical challenge.
With the assistance of Diego acting as scout, Santini assigned eighteen separate teams of agents, each responsible for arresting a specific gang member, or small group of suspects who lived together. They staked out the thugs’ residences, identifying the homes where they slept, what cars they drove, who lived with whom, what cars these other people drove, what times of day the occupants typically came and went, and whether they owned any large guard dogs of concern. The planning and preparation would take many weeks.
From the day that word came down to Santini it was time to wrap up the case, he projected the earliest possible date for the takedown was three months out. All the various police agencies participating needed to be brought on board, briefed, and coordinated. There were hotel rooms for out-of-town special operators to be booked, ten HSI Special Response Teams and several local ones to be thoroughly briefed, armored cars and air support to be requisitioned.
Meanwhile, Gwinn was calling twenty-seven witnesses to testify before the grand jury and working with Santini to present evidence for indictments on all thirty-six suspects.
Adding to Santini’s growing anxiety during this time, an article appeared in a local San Francisco newspaper called the Recorder that connected the dots between recent arrests of MS-13 gang members in the city, including Cyco, Peloncito, and Kapone.1 The report surmised a big federal takedown might be imminent, noting the US Attorney’s Office for the Northern District of California had filed at least seven separate cases against MS-13 suspects in recent months. Five of the arrests came after the Bologna family murders, and all the cases were being handled by the same prosecutor, Nelson Wong.
Santini knew from hard experience—in particular his blown car fencing sting—that 20th Street members paid attention to media reports. He was worried now that the Recorder article might tip them off that the net was closing and they would make a run for it.
Santini gazed out the window of the fixed-wing Cessna piloted by a US Customs agent as the small plane hugged the Pacific shoreline, heading north from San Francisco. Below, the ocean’s breaking surf drew a white line north and south, as if tracing the way for the aircraft’s hour-and-a-half flight plan along the sandy beaches and rocky outcrops toward Mendocino. To the east, the world-class vineyards of Marin and Sonoma Counties lay, their fields etched by thousands upon thousands of grapevine rows undulating across the sloping terrain.
The bird’s-eye view encouraged a growing sense of optimism in Santini. Maybe the four-year-long investigation and all the stress and frustration had been worth it. In his briefcase, he carried indictments and warrants for forty individuals that he was bringing for final sign-off from Judge Nandor J. Vadas, one of the most conservative judges in Northern California. Russoniello had identified Vadas as the most likely federal magistrate to give a final stamp of approval. It was the last legal step required before the big takedown of gang members could commence.
Just over an hour after takeoff, the small plane touched down at Little River Airport, a few miles southeast of the Mendocino County seat. From the airstrip Santini headed straight for the courthouse.
Vadas, a former assistant prosecutor with the San Francisco District Attorney’s Office, was appointed to the federal magistrate in Eureka, California, in 2004. With gray hair and a close-trimmed goatee, the judge had a highly businesslike manner. Still, Santini sensed right away that Vadas had been affected by reading graphic descriptions in the indictments of violent crimes alleged against the 20th Street thugs.
“We need to put these dirtbags in jail, immediately,” Vadas said.
It was just what Santini wanted to hear.
“Pick these goons up, and I’ll await the story in the newspapers,” the magistrate said.
“Yes, sir!” Santini said.
The agent walked away from the Ukiah courthouse with forty signed search warrants, eighteen arrest warrants, and a grin on his face. The flight back south to San Francisco was even more levitating for Santini’s mood than the trip up. He gazed at the sunlight shimmering on the great Pacific Ocean all the way to the western horizon.
There was still some major police work to be done. A massive team of agents and special operators were poised to swing into action, and there were no guarantees that nothing would go wrong before they had all the gang members in custody.
Santini had taken every precaution he could think of to ensure the takedown went smoothly, but this kind of operation always carried with it a degree of unpredictability and risk. The MS-13 thugs had guns. They lived with women and children, some of them. There were neighbors and passersby and dogs and cats and whatever else that could stray into harm’s way at just the wrong moment.
And there was still the chance that some of the targets would catch wind of the operation ahead of time, somehow, and scram before the massive sweep occurred.