When people say, “Wow, you’re a hero,” my response is, “No, not really, but I worked with a bunch.” For my part, I tried really hard each and every day as an ATF undercover operator to always take the high ground and never to use my skills for evil—even if that meant a guilty party went free. I tried as best I could to play by the rules. The thing I am most proud of is being allowed to travel with and work beside some of the greats in the business.
The RatSnakes I had the honor to work with don’t seek fame, although some have been catapulted into it. We don’t need a thank-you. Most of us would say, “No, thank you.” It was our privilege to serve. We were paid well and received intangible rewards. It’s not everywhere in the world that a young punk gets another chance to make good. Or that a woman steps into a predominantly man’s world and garners the same respect. Or that a Cajun from Louisiana, a redneck from Montana, or a kid from Puerto Rico are selected to protect presidents and world leaders.
I’ve talked about the drawbacks to the life we chose, but not all was a dark sacrifice. We had a lot of fun and fucked up a lot of bad individuals. Most of us came out the other side better people for having been RatSnakes. I can tell my sons about the loyalty and dedication of the men and women I served with in the Marines, but that time in my life preceded theirs. When I was a RatSnake, my boys got front-row seats to the love, loyalty, and bravery of the people you have read about in these pages. Those who came before will disagree, and those who come after will disagree, but we, the RatSnakes, lived the golden days of ATF.
These people and this job gave me a reason to get up every day. No matter how dark my life has been at times, no matter how beaten and broken I’ve felt, the RatSnakes have been there for me. We will keep the memories of our group alive as long as we are alive. The walls of the ATF Academy carry some of our pictures, and some of the stories about us will be passed on to future generations of agents. Our history is further immortalized on the walls, ceilings, and urinals of Pam’s #1 cop bar and will be there until Pam’s is no more. As the bureau continues into a new era, of course, there will be agents and covert operators, but there never will be anything approaching the RatSnakes.
Gundo would be the first to go. He had the fleeting moment when he entered management as a first-line supervisor but had the good sense to backtrack. He has since retired with his supercool wife, Kitty, in the Pacific Northwest and also takes care of his ailing mother. He had a couple minor health scares but remains connected to the group and makes our reunions often. Gundo was and is the quiet warrior and yet the same carefree, fun-loving guy we rode with all those years. He still rides his Harley but nowadays with his clothes on. Exposing himself to great peril, he stood up for Bird and me during our lawsuits against ATF. As an operator, he volunteered for every shit detail to come down the pike, and I never saw him without a smile on his face. He taught me much.
Dino is the epitome of the phoenix. A soldier, an officer, both an Army Airborne and honor graduate. A federal prison guard who survived a riot and, finally, a RatSnake. You’ve read of Dino’s successes and a couple failures. Yet Dino didn’t just survive, he thrived.
I have joked and made some disparaging remarks about ATF management. I hope that I also have conveyed my great respect and pride in our leadership when they got it right. They certainly got it right when they gave Dino a second chance. I am proud that one of our own rose to executive levels within the bureau. Dino held several ASAC positions and served as an assistant attaché to ATF’s Mexico mission. He never forgot where he came from and stays engaged to this day with the Core. He was not afraid to stand toe-to-toe with the bad guys, and he was equally aggressive when standing up to management.
Dino recently retired from the bureau. He and MA live in suburban Atlanta, Georgia, where they are both in the same city for the first time in many years. He spends his time doing consulting work and going to Atlanta Braves games. He and I last saw each other at Bambi’s fiftieth birthday party (a.k.a. a gathering of the Kiss My Ass Club, because Bam became eligible to retire that day). We spoke recently, as I was finishing this book, and had plans to see each other at the next RatSnakes reunion.
Bambi clearly is one of the most extraordinary operators in the bureau. She never told another agent no. She never told the bureau no. Because of her devotion and dedication to her chosen profession, despite having several good relationships over the years, she never married or had children. She is still with ATF, although we all hope that she soon joins us in retirement, because she has paid her dues. Despite the challenges of the job over the years, she never lost her big, sweet smile. She has at last found her person. He has two children whom Bambi adores and is helping to raise. He’s a great guy, and the RatSnakes have embraced him. Bambi’s father, a no-shit American war hero, recently passed away. I never met him, but I know how proud he must have been of his baby girl. Yah did good, Michelle.
I have to give a shout-out to Neta Rice, executive director of the ATF Association of Retirees (ATFAR). Her silver-haired husband, John Rice, ran my ATF Academy class, and he did so with an iron fist. John was an agent’s agent and a legend in ATF and our arson program. John passed years ago, and Neta remained at the ATF Academy until she retired. During that time, she took each and every one of us RatSnakes under her protective wing. Having lived the life, she understood and took pity on this young, crazy bunch and did her best to protect us from ourselves. Most of us stay in touch with her to this day.
Charlie has survived over twenty years in retirement and by all accounts is loving life in the Southeast. From time to time, he posts pictures of his houseboat and his classic car. After leaving ATF, he took his lifelong skills and experience and built the most unique and successful private advanced undercover training business in the country. He often calls upon RatSnakes to teach and enhance his program. Charlie has remained loyal to the core of agents he trained, and we cross paths on occasion, the last time being at Box’s retirement party. He suffered the tragic loss of his wife but has since remarried the new love of his life. I often wonder if he knows what high regard we hold him in and how many lives he probably saved.
Patrick Kelly, again, may you eternally rest in peace. Shortly after our reunion to celebrate Patty’s life, he passed away due to cancer. He left behind his wife, Gina, who stays in our lives and prayers to this day. I saw Pat a few years back for his seventy-fifth birthday party. Care to guess where the party was held? Charlie rented a limousine for us to ride in to the gathering. All the old, crusty and the new, young, wet-behind-the-ears RatSnakes attended. It was a walk down memory lane with a handful of heroes who by this time had been featured on 60 Minutes, 20/20, the History Channel, and National Geographic. A couple were New York Times best-selling authors. A few were TV and movie stars. At the end of the day, I guess that’s not so surprising: they were RatSnakes.
Jimm—the first guy I met in federal law enforcement and with whom I am in touch to this day—finally pulled the pin and retired to the southeastern United States with his wife, Nina. Jimm had risen to legendary status during the widely acclaimed Warlocks infiltration case. He later got a chance for a change of scenery and moved his young family to FLETC and joined Box running the undercover program. He always was a standout agent. A month before his retirement, Jimm called me from a surveillance he was on to bounce some ideas off me. He was by himself, overlooking a target location where he would make one last cold knock. Less than two months away from putting all of this behind him, he was still risking his ass to make that one last buy to get one more illegal weapon off the streets.
Jimm helped me throughout my life, personally and professionally, including assisting throughout my dispute with ATF. Loyal to the end, he has nearly talked me into leaving Lake Tahoe and taking up with him and many other retired ATF agents in the Southeast.
Toward the end, Box paid the price for being vocal about the treatment some of us RatSnakes were receiving at the end of our careers. It cost him a fairly cushy job as the spokesman for ATF in Tampa. Fortunately, he still had friends at the top and found a soft landing as a polygraph examiner. In fact, he was the only Spanish-speaking polygrapher in the field. Box retired in 2016, and he and Carmen, now also retired, left Miami but not Florida. Box continued doing polygraph examinations for other agencies for a period of time after retiring from ATF. He now is completely retired and by all accounts just having fun with his sexy baby mama. Rarely a day goes by that either Box or Carmen aren’t sending pics of their grandbabies. He is the main coordinator of our RatSnakes reunions.
If you want to know more about Jay Dobyns nowadays, just turn on the TV. He is a featured guest on talk radio and television specials surrounding his time in biker hell. His New York Times best seller No Angel is being adapted into a feature film. His latest book, Catching Hell, was released in 2018. He consulted on and also acted in the 2018 Gerard Butler film Den of Thieves. Bird also coaches youth football and continues to inspire young athletes in his home state of Arizona.
Jay and I previously collaborated on projects featuring the RatSnakes and undercover operations. Bird has kind of changed lanes and signed on with a group of veterans and first responders who provide training and services to those banged up psychologically from their careers. Jay and I crashed like two trains running head-on in a tunnel. What brought that on is between Jay and me, and as far as I’m concerned, it will remain that way.
Milton had seen a lot and done a lot, and he grew weary of undercover work, the demands of the field, and the wear and tear on his well-being. He ultimately stepped into a first-line supervisor position. By all accounts, he was the guy you wanted to work for, although, sadly, he slowly stepped farther and farther away from some of the RatSnakes. None of us will forget his presence for decades or his damn low-country boil. I was a better agent for having known and worked with him. We still talk from time to time, and he is enjoying his retirement. Hopefully, we will meet again soon, but if not, I knew a hero and nobody can take that away from me.
On February 28, 1993, a fragile cease-fire had been secured between ATF and the Waco Branch Davidians. ATF had to tend to our dead and wounded. Milton and three other agents had to holster their weapons and proceed to the inner courtyard of the compound to rescue team leader Kenneth King, who was badly wounded. At each window they passed, there were taunts and threats from the Branch Davidians, who had weapons pointed at the agents. The four agents secured Ken and loaded him onto a ladder because no stretchers were available. Then they had to walk back past those same windows and then down the long driveway to safety. They could have been executed at any point, but they weren’t leaving without our wounded agent. For me, that level of heroism in battle represented the very best of ATF.*
As I come to the end of this book, I wonder if I have done the RatSnakes justice. I wonder whether I have conveyed the courage, the honor, the integrity, and the sacrifices they made for their fellow Americans. I have spent the last few months at my computer, sometimes in awe, sometimes laughing my ass off. I got to recall the joy I felt going to work every day with these people. Knowing they would be the ones to come crashing through a door or tearing down a wall to save me if things broke bad. These were their stories, not mine. I just felt compelled to tell them.
* Word is that Milton may in fact attend our next RatSnakes reunion. That would be awesome.