This Is for the Mara Salvatrucha (26 page)

W
hen Diablito, Pantera’s little brother, agreed to testify, the lead attorney prosecuting Brenda’s murder case, Ron Walutes, had obtained a compelling witness. Diablito was not at the scene of the crime, but he knew what his older brother had done and couldn’t live with it. Diablito had joined the MS when he was fifteen. Pantera had told him not to, but Diablito didn’t listen. His older brother, a cousin, and a number of friends were all in the Centrales clique. Diablito regretted speaking out against his brother and former friends once he was on the stand.

Ignacio, Rodriguez, Alexander, and Greg all testified in federal court for Walutes. Walutes also put Maria Gomez and Sabrosa on the witness stand. Each told the jury a specific side of the story and chain of events leading from when Brenda arrived in Virginia from Minnesota to the morning before she died.

Greg and all the investigators thought Denis would be found guilty of ordering Brenda’s death. Rodriguez and others considered that Pantera and Araña might get off, but not Denis. They had him on numerous phone conversations, in letters, and from the mouths of the witnesses as the principle driver behind the
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issued on Brenda Paz.

The jury finally delivered the verdict on May 18, 2005. Pantera and Araña stood before the judge during the final minutes of what had
been a yearlong criminal court trial. They were given the opportunity to speak to the court before the federal judge handed down the verdict, decided upon by twelve members of the jury.

Pantera offered no remorse. He thanked the judge for fair treatment and asked to have his visitation rights reinstated. He stated that he would seek no reprisal against those who testified against him.

Speaking to the judge, Araña was overcome with emotion, though many in the room thought his tears were crocodile tears.

“I want to apologize for my actions, for the harm I did to the families, to Brenda’s family. I have not only hurt them, but I also hurt my family. I am very sorry, remorseful about everything. I apologize for all I’ve done in the past,” he said.

“I would like to ask the government to establish programs so more young people are not killed or are committing these type of mistakes. Give more attention to the young people and families. As you have heard here, we have come from very modest, very poor families. All we have suffered is because we grew up without any support.”

The two men sat down before the judge spoke.

“Brenda Paz was murdered because the rule of the gang was that if you cooperated with the police or law enforcement authorities, a green light would be placed on you and you would be murdered or retaliated against. Brenda Paz was an active participant in gangs. She was a young person, too, and it seems to me that the U.S. Marshals Service and the Witness Protection Program did not protect Brenda Paz. They were not prepared to handle someone so young, and they did a really poor job in managing her as a witness. I think everyone who heard this trial heard it. You don’t take a fifteen-or sixteen-year-old gang member and drop her off in Minnesota, leave her in a hotel by herself without any supervision. What happened to her is unforgivable. The fact is that this murder was horrible. It was brutal. It was vicious.”

The judge then asked Pantera and Araña to stand.

He began again in more somber tones, “As I said a moment ago, the murder of Brenda Paz was heinous. It was cruel. It was vicious.” He paused here with solemn effect. “She was a pregnant woman, nearly decapitated and murdered and left out in the woods. This grievous act warrants the most grievous punishment the law allows.

“To be clear, the sentence I impose is one of life. What you do with it is up to you, but the jury has given you clear clues of what they hope and what they expect. The court joins that jury.”

Denis was acquitted of all charges for Brenda’s murder. He still had to serve time for the malicious-wounding charge, and he received a life sentence without parole for the death of Joaquin Diaz, but the jury found him not guilty of Brenda Paz’s death.

Weeks after Brenda’s murder trial, Denis received an indictment for his escape attempt. Rodriguez asked to serve the papers to Denis because he wanted to have a last one-on-one with the kid. During the investigation into Brenda’s murder, Rodriguez remained vigilant for his possible killer. His persistence paid off around the same time police arrested Araña, when Rodriguez pulled over a car with Dallas plates. The guy driving the car was the hit man. If Brenda had never alerted him to the
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, the man he pulled over that day might have killed him. Rodriguez was convinced Brenda had saved his life, and now, rounding the corner to Denis’s cell, he had a chance to share some final words with the guy he knew had ordered Brenda’s death.

“I hope you burn in hell for what you’ve done,” Rodriguez said, seething, only inches from Denis’s face. “You had a pregnant girl killed for doing the exact same thing you did, you son of a bitch.”

Denis ordered Brenda’s death because of her betrayal, but Rodriguez knew better than anyone that Denis had also cooperated with the police. Denis did not provide nearly the amount of information Brenda offered, but any leader in the MS who knew Denis was talking to the cops would have had him killed.

Rodriguez had said his piece. He felt like partial justice had been served, but remained frustrated with the system for allowing Denis to have that victory. But Denis’s efforts to kill Brenda did not silence her voice.

For her own reasons, Brenda had decided to speak out against a gang that became her family since running away from her uncle in Texas. The gang had grown into something she resented. She saw deeper into the workings of the Mara Salvatrucha, likely far deeper than any other female who came before her. She saw beyond the allure of the gang life. She saw the pointless nature of the gang, and she saw past her time with the gang into a future where she could have made something of her life.

Her knowledge of the Mara Salvatrucha opened the minds and eyes of law enforcement officers across a number of counties and states. The video Mike Porter made the day he taped her talking about stacking and other truths of the Mara Salvatrucha at the Massey Build
ing was converted into a training video. Since her death, hundreds of young officers have seen that tape and learned in a little over one hour the basics of possibly the most dangerous gang in the United States today.

Brenda opened eyes in the federal government. Since her death, the FBI has organized a national MS-13 gang task force, dedicated solely to dismantling the organization from the top down. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, a federal law enforcement agency that has a long history of tackling violent organized crime, has set up its own regional task forces around the country to target the MS-13. Its task force in Langley Park, Maryland, has had much success in containing the spread of the Mara Salvatrucha from the suburbs of Washington, D.C., to smaller communities in the north.

Brenda’s unfortunate death galvanized a group of law enforcement individuals at both the state and federal levels who in one way or another were touched by her glowing smile and addictive personality. When asked, those who remember Brenda first mention her smile, then her intelligence and her vast knowledge of the MS-13. What she told them is still in use today, and since Brenda’s death, the MS-13 has been largely removed from northern Virginia, in great part owing to the investigative work and drive of Porter, Ignacio, Rodriguez, and others.

Some of Brenda’s predictions have come true. Since Brenda’s death, MS members have begun using tattoos less, and high-ranking individuals keep a low profile. Many suspect the gang is today more organized than it was when Brenda died, though most who try to understand the Mara Salvatrucha are not sure how far the gang has gone toward becoming a criminal family. There is evidence, however, that younger members take classes in business administration and finance. Older members may have developed business ties with the criminal community in Mexico and at major border crossings.

In the years to come, the FBI and state-level law enforcement will largely deal with an invisible enemy, one that will continue to blend in and thrive in the country’s Latino communities unless law enforcement authorities pierce the fear and prejudice in these communities and coerce information from the men and women who are today more afraid of being deported than of reprisals from the members of the MS that live among them.

Since Brenda’s death, Latino communities in northern Virginia at least have benefitted from more attention from local policymakers.
Once leaders in Arlington and Fairfax counties were willing to admit they had a gang problem, solutions poured in. Latino youths in these counties enjoy after-school options. There are more prevention programs in place, and most are working.

Yet the migratory nature of the MS-13 has carried the gang to the north, into regions as far afield as Long Island, Boston, and even Maine. Counties that have small police budgets, where towns barely warrant a zip code, have reported the presence of the MS-13.

Brenda’s bravery prompted federal alertness to a problem that goes much further than the violence associated with one Latino gang. The Salvadorans that first formed the Mara Salvatrucha arrived in the United States to flee certain death in their home country. For many of the same reasons, Salvadorans and other Central Americans stream into the United States every day. They seek economic opportunity, freedom from fear, and some aspect of a better life.

After more than fifty witnesses and a year of questioning and cross-examination during the murder trial of Brenda Paz, one salient point surfaced beyond all others. Latino communities around the country are full of at-risk youths with little parental supervision and a lack of love and acceptance at home. Turning to the street, these children find the love and acceptance they seek in a street gang—until they wind up in prison, in a hospital, or dead. The truth is, they’re able to leave the gang just as easily as they arrived. The path from jumping in to the moment they gain the courage to remove themselves from the gang, however, is fraught with criminal behavior. The strict code of conduct promotes violence, precluding an easy departure.

A jury found both Pantera and Araña guilty of the murder of Brenda Paz. Another jury found Denis guilty of murdering Joaquin Diaz. All three will likely spend the rest of their lives in prison because of deeds they committed in the name of the Mara Salvatrucha.

Brenda spent less than two years as a fully indoctrinated and respected member of the Mara Salvatrucha. During that time, her charisma and intelligence were enough to earn her more respect than most any other females in her gang. She became one of the best sources of information on the gang anyone had come across at that time. She endeared herself to all those in law enforcement who met her, learned from her, and ultimately realized how serious the Mara Salvatrucha was about dominating the gang subculture inside the United States.

Wherever Brenda went, she left dozens of friends and memories. It
is uncommon for such a spirited and gifted woman to fall into the ranks of the Mara Salvatrucha, but such is the allure of gang life. The freedom and unconditional acceptance is intoxicating. Like so many others her age, she quickly became addicted to being a gangster only to find out some time later that the high came at too steep a price. Brenda’s homies told her never to look back, never to dwell on what she’d done or seen. But she did. And her demons were most intimate when she was alone.

F
irst and foremost, I would like to thank my wife for her unconditional support over this past year of work on my first book, and my daughter for her inspiration. I want to thank Stephanie Hanson and my agent, Rebecca Friedman, for realizing the potential in me. Kasey Gronau Ewing, my creative editor, guided me through the transition from journalist to storyteller. I can’t thank her enough. Yvette Bennet, my transcriptionist, listened to countless hours of interview material, and was fundamental to bringing this book to life, thank you.

I want to thank the Paz and Calzada families for accepting me into their homes and treating me as a guest, despite my tough and painful questions. Finally, I want to thank the men and women with whom I conducted countless interviews. Without their help, this important story and powerful message would never have been told.