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Mark Langan has written a book that gives rare insight intohis career o busting Omahas worst gang members and drugdealers. Marvelously detailed, this book reads like fiction yetevery bit o it is true.
Eric Buske
Former Omaha Police Chie,now Police Chie in Bryan, exas
A real-world look at the emotional roller coaster o takingon the streets as one o Omahas finest. Mark captures the true
essence o his remarkable career in a manner that once you startreading you just cant put it down.
Donald W. KleineDouglas County (Nebraska) Attorney
Troughout a highly distinguished police career, Mark
Langan doggedly pursued violent drug dealers and others whomsociety had very good reason to ear. In this book, he has donea magnificent job capturing all the tense, gritty street drama hedealt with daily as a police officer. Tis is his real lie, no-holds-
barred police story that will keep you on the edge o your seat
rom the first page to the last. Hon. Gerald E. MoranDistrict Judge, Retired
Police officers will find this book interesting and truthul.
Tey will wish they had the inspiration to be able to documenttheir career in such a real and visual ashion. Everyone else willget insight into the real thing. You know it is a good read wheneel you are part o the story. Tis is like reading a real lie diary
that is a good portrayal o what policing is about.Te generation beore Langan was struggling to adapt to
new proessional and legal standards and to rules and regulations
PRAISE FOR BUSTING BAD GUYS
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designed to conorm to Supreme Court decisions that were
significantly changing how officers worked. Langan earned a
reputation or doing things the better way and he would spend a
career developing and teaching the process.Te detail in this book is not surprising. Successul officers
know that a case does not end with the arrest. Te work is just
beginning, because a successul prosecution, where justice is the
ultimate goal, requires an unimpeachable oundation. No one will
be disappointed when they read this thought-provoking book.
Lee Polikov
Sarpy County (Nebraska) Attorney
Te code word is BINGO. Tats what we officers on
Langans crew said when we had the dope in hand while working
undercover. Score your own BINGO with Langans book. ake a
deep breath and prepare yoursel as my ormer boss takes your
hand and walks you through that dark, dirty underworld o
drugs and prostitution. Fasten your seatbelt because this booktakes off with seconds o utter hell seen through the eyes o a cop
in a deadly police shootout.
Brian Bogdanoff
Award-winning Homicide Detective and Award-winning
rue Crime Author o Tree Bodies Burning: Te Anatomy of an
Investigation into Murder, Money and Mexican Marijuana
Great stories, with the added benefit o being 100 percent
true. Stories o the kind that cops only tell each other, because
without ruining her day, how can you honestly answer that
question coming in the door and your wie asks, How was your
day, honey? Mark Langan takes an unparalleled look into the
days, and dark nights, o the hardest working cop I have ever
known. You cant make this stuff up!
Mark Sundermeier
Omaha Police Deputy Chie (Retired)
Former member o Mark Langans
C Shif Narcotics Unit crew
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Hard-hitting, act-based look into the underbelly o society:the criminal streets. Firsthand accounts o encounters betweenpolice and the criminals they try to protect society rom. Having
practiced criminal deense or twenty-our years in the samecity as the author, these true tales bring home the reality o allpersons involved in the criminal justice system. Action packedwith details that only a person involved in the day-to-day dramaon the mean streets can bring to lie on the pages o this book. Areal look into the hard job police officers in the city o Omaha,and across the country, routinely ace. In spite o our differentroles in the judicial system, I always respected Sgt. Langan and
the work he perormed. A rare and intriguing view rom one oOmahas finest.
Glenn Shapiro, J.D.Partner, Schaeer Shapiro LLP
I have known Mark since his earliest days in lawenorcement. Its hard to imagine, but his stories really capture
the essence o what we now know has kept our city sae. Terichly detailed experiences in this book will keep you glued tothe pages [so ultimately you], at the end you truly understandthe debt o gratitude we owe the men and women in blue.
Robert J. CarlislePresident MCL Construction
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2014 Mark . Langan
No part o this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever withoutwritten permission except in the case o brie quotations embodied in critical articlesor reviews.
Any similarities to other intellectual works are either coincidental or have been properlycited when the source is known. rademarks o products, services, and organizationsmentioned herein belong to their respective owners and are not affiliated with thepublisher, ML838 LLC.
Te author and publisher shall have neither liability nor responsibility to any personor entity with respect to any loss or damage caused, or alleged to have been caused,directly or indirectly by the inormation in this book. Names o confidential inormantsand some suspects have been changed.
Inormation rom articles in Te Omaha World-Heraldand Law Enforcement Newsisreprinted with permission. Crime scene photos reprinted with permission rom theOmaha Police Department.
Warning: Tis book contains graphic descriptions o crimes and adult language.
Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9913110-1-9
ePub ISBN: 978-0-9913110-3-3
Kindle ISBN: 978-0-9913110-2-6
LCCN: 2013957215
Publishing inormation to come
ML838 LLC
www.BustingBadGuys.com
Printied in the United States o America.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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To my wie, Annette. A shining example o love, support, andunderstanding to a husband whose lie dreams presented manychallenges along the way.
To the amilies o police officers everywhere. Your encouragementand reassurance afer a tough day on the streets means more thanyou will ever know.
And to the members o the Omaha Police Department. Youtaught me the meaning o honor, integrity, and sacrifice.
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CONTENTS
Foreword . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Te Shootout1 Get Us a Squad! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112 One Adam-12, Responding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
Patrol Days
3 Kids, Kids, Kids . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 474 Stay Out o the 100 Area . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515 Dynamite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
6 Chump Change . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 637 Te Fridge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 678 By the Balls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 719 Im Here, Sarge! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7310 Light It Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7711 See No Evil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8112 Choir Practice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
13 All Choked Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8514 A New Lie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8715 You Have the Right to Remain Silent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
Burglary
16 Burglary Dick . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10517 A Dangerous ouch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
Vice
18 Te O.C. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12519 Club Delmar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12720 Code Name C2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13521 Working Girls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
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22 Golden Showers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14923 Hot Mama . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15324 Ditto Heads. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
25 Internet Madam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16110-7, Signal 8-0
26 Eating in Omahas Finest Restaurants . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Narcotics27 Get on the Ground. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17928 Te Painter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19329 Caught Red-Handed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20130 Te Other Woman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20731 Rock and Roll Groupies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21132 Paper Snow-Seal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21533 Hit It! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22134 Helicopter Coming Down . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23135 Snitches, Stoolies, and Rats. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23536 Bend Over and Cough . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
37 Knock and alk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24938 Operation Hotel-Motel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25339 Sign Here. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25740 Te Chronology o a Gun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25941 I Swear to ell the ruth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Te Grand Jury
42 Justified . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279
Moving On
43 From Busting Meth Labs to Chasing Black Labs. . . . 28744 Te Past Comes Full Circle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29945 Strange Lunch Fellows. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 305
Acknowledgments. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311About the Author . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 315
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When I became an FBI agent in 1988, I, like many otherred-blooded Americans, wanted to chase bank robbersand kidnappers. o my dismay, when I arrived in Omaha I was
assigned to the White Collar Crime Squad. Afer a successul
two and a hal years on this squad, I was re-assigned to the Drug/
Gang Squad. Again, not bank robberies.
Federal, state, and local narcotics investigators romboth counties in the Omaha metropolitan area worked in a
clandestine location we affectionately called the hole. During
this assignment my entire attitude about what I wanted to do
with my career changed. It wasnt the work necessarily, it was the
people. It was on this squad that I met Sergeant Mark Langan.
I had heard o Mark. Everyone had. He was the Sergeant o
the C shif narcotics crew or the Omaha Police Department.Agents on my squad had worked successully with Mark or years.
He was a hard charger, as were the officers who worked or him.
For whatever the reason, I gravitated to this crew. I worked with
the other Omaha Police Department crews (I hope successully),
but with Mark and his crew, something clicked.
Normally I worked daytime hours, but whenever my pager
went off afer our oclock, I knew it was Mark, and off I went. My
wie always says I have no recollection o her pregnancy with our
second son because I was too busy running out o the house to
work with Langans Crew.
FOREWORD
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BUSTING BAD GUYS
2
I hear this saying all the time, Tat guy is a police officers
police officer, and Im here to tell you that Mark Langan is that
police officers police officer. Few people are bornto do what they
do; ewer still can honestly say they spent a career doing a jobthey love. No one tells better stories than cops, and the pages o
this book are filled with the stories o a police officer. Te danger,
the boredom, the un, the brotherhood, and the excitement when
a plan comes together.
Mark Langan is more than a police officer, as you will see.
He is a husband, a ather, and a servant o the community.
o me, Mark is a leader and one o the biggest influences on
my career. With his help I learned that drug investigations were
my orte, not bank robberies. He taught me that everyone, even
the violent drug dealers and gangbangers we dealt with needed
to be treated with respect.
I remember one night having dinner with the crew at the
Smoke Pit BBQ when Mark and I noticed the parents o a major
crack dealer at a nearby table. Tey noticed us too. When the
parents had finished their meal, the crack dealers mother cameover to our table. I thought, Oh, man, she is just going to rip us,
but I was wrong. She told us that she knew her son had done
wrong and deserved to be in the penitentiary but thanked us or
treating her son airly.
In the all o 2004 I was working a case with Gary Kula,
who figures prominently in the first chapter o this book, when I
got a call rom Mark. He needed to talk to me about somethingimportant. We met, and to my shock, Mark inormed me that he
was thinking about retiring rom the orce. He told me he had a
chance to take a job supervising the animal control officers at the
Nebraska Humane Society.
I can vividly remember saying, So you wanna be the
dog catcher? Wrong again. Mark brought the same energy
and enthusiasm to that job he brought to the Omaha Police
Department. He is much more than a dog catcher. He is Vice-
President o Field Operations or the Nebraska Humane Society
and has made an indelible change to the job o the animal control
officer. Because o Marks efforts its now a elony, punishable by
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3
FOREWORD
jail time, to mistreat an animal. Te officers work animal crueltycases and even write search warrants.
Tis is the story o a man who was born to be a police officer
but became so much more. How many people can say theymade a difference in their community, every day, rom the age oeighteen to well into their fifies? I am proud to call Mark Langanmy riend.
Bill NellisFBI Special Agent
Omaha Field Office
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My high school counselor told me I was too sensitive tobe a cop. I told mysel he was wrong. However, theseguys are counselors or a reason. hey see things in the kids
that we dont see ourselves. Or that we are too immature and
bullheaded to admit.
Being an Omaha Police Officer changed me drastically in
twenty-six years on the job rom 1978 to 2004. Tere are partso my personality I dont like. In act, Ive worked hard since
retirement to change dark aspects o who I am.
Change is tough.
For years others have told me I can be moody, intimidating,
or appear sullen at times. I never try to act this way on purpose
and actually work hard at making people eel comortable when
interacting with me.At times I eel as though I have two personalities. I can be
warm, outgoing, and the type o person who makes others eel
comortable to be around. Yet at times, when my past catches up
to me, I can change and become that mysterious guy who causes
others to wonder whats going through my head.
Tey never saw the movies I saw played out on the streets
o Omaha all those years in uniormed patrol, working Burglary,
Vice, and finally many years undercover in Narcoticsthe worst
o humanity: kids who were killed, abused, or orced to live a lie
o constant ear, kids living like prisoners in their own homes or
never allowed outside to play because their drug-abusing parents
INTRODUCTION
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BUSTING BAD GUYS
6
never understood why kids needed to go to school or have a rich
lie, women who were beaten daily and grew to accept that, drug
users whose arms were covered with track marks and never
knew what day it was or struggled just or survival, hour to hour.One little girl, probably five or six, walked up to me afer
we had bashed her ront door down with a battering ram and
arrested her mom and dad or selling methamphetamine. She
hugged my legs sobbing, Please dont let anybody hurt me.
Ive finally figured out the real reason Im writing this
memoir. Its time or my amily to hear the whole story, not just
the tamer parts o my career I thought they could handle.
I saw things I couldnt share and experienced emotions I
couldnt find the words to tell them about. My wie and two kids
certainly knew what I did or a living. Teir husband and dad
was a cop who worked at night, ofen slept in late, and was gone
or many amily unctions.
Tey rarely knew what I saw, heard, and elt when I came
home at night afer a rough day on the streets o Omaha.
I wanted to protect them rom the atrocities I experienced,especially the heinous situations involving kids. Little do my own
children know the number o times I checked on them beore
I went to bed in the wee hours o the night, making sure they
were sae, comortable, and warm. Hours earlier I had seen kids
o the same age living in filth, cockroaches running throughout
their bedrooms, being parented by pieces o crap who put more
value on their next hit o crack than making sure their own kidswere sae.
I wish I would have shared my experiences more with my
amily, but I cannot go back in time to do so. Only afer my
retirement do I eel that my kids ully understood and appreciated
what I did, and thats my ault. I should have been more open to
them with my eelings about this damn job.
Tats the reason or this book. I want my wie, kids,
grandson, and uture grandkids to know what the old guy did.
Im not looking to sensationalize my career by any means. Rather,
I owe it to them to tell the whole story, the good and the bad, to
make up or all the hours lost with them during my police career.
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7
INTRODUCTION
urns out my counselor, Brother Richard Murphy atRoncalli Catholic High School, was a wise man. Maybe I am toosensitive. I had trouble sleeping or years. Insomnia is a cruel
monster. Afer I retired rom the Omaha Police Department,sleep became easier, as my mind raced less late at night.Once I started writing this book, the cruel monster returned.
Lying sleepless in bed late at night has orced me to relive thesights and sounds o little kids shaking and crying, scared todeath that really bad things are going to happen to themworse than theyd already been through. In way too many cases Ipersonally saw these little angels orced to endure atrocities that
most people cannot comprehend.Cops are not most people, which is why I still lie awake at
night. Let me tell you what happened on the nights I patrolledyour streets.
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THE SHOOTOUT
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On Valentines Day 2002, Officer Gary Kula and I shot andkilled thirty-seven-year-old Jose Chavez near the intersectiono 28th and Madison in South Omahaa working-class
neighborhood o mostly small one-story homes overshadowed
by massive mature trees, with plenty o cars parked along narrow
streets with wide sidewalks.
In some ways Im surprised I hadnt been involvedin a shooting earlier in my career with the Omaha Police
Department. Afer all, this officer-involved shooting occurred
during my twenty-ourth year on the job and ourteenth year in
the Narcotics Unit.
I cannot begin to count the number o armed drug dealers
my crew had arrested up to this ateul night. We had chased
armed suspects through dark yards, knocked down motel roomdoors, finding perps on beds next to semi-automatic rifles, and
were fired upon by a sniper while serving a crack warrant in 1992.
Te odds were bound to catch up to us sooner or later that
someoneeither a member o my crew or Iwould be involved
in a shooting where either one o us, or the suspect, would be
killed or seriously injured.
Yet the chances o police officers using their firearms to kill
someone are remote at best. Tere are close to a million cops
in the United States, with an average o three hundred atal
shootings a year by police officers.
GET US A SQUAD!
1
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BUSTING BAD GUYS
12
Bad guys shoot cops too. Sadly, over the past ten years law
enorcement officers have been killed in the line o duty every
fify-seven hours. One hundred and twenty died in 2012. So ar,
19,981 names are engraved on the walls o the National LawEnorcement Officers Memorial in Washington, D.C.
I sure never wanted to be one o them, but standing in the
street that night the thought crossed my mind.
Ironically, in the past ten years most officer-involved
shootings have occurred on a Tursday. What is the significance
o Tursday or violence toward police officers? I have no clue,
but February 14, 2002, was a Tursday.
Tis particular day started out no differently than all the
others, but it ended up to be a defining moment or Garys career
and mine. We had shot a man who died on the street.
Never beore had we been the subjects o a criminal
investigation, with our coworkers reading us Miranda warnings
and reusing to talk to us outside o the investigation. And never
beore had a grand jury convened to determine i we should be
indicted or murder.Was I a killer? I was trained to kill in the police academy.
I wore a gun to work every day. I was prepared to shoot to kill.
But I had never fired my gun outside the shooting range until the
night o February 14, 2002.
Te weather was unseasonably warm, in the orties, with
little or no snow on the ground. Being the romantic I claim to be,
I planned to leave work early to treat my wie to a late ValentinesDay dinner. Afer all, I was still working nights, and it was only
fitting to take a ew hours off on Valentines Day to be with the
woman who supported me and my crazy schedule.
Yet all bets were off when Officer Mark Lang (yes, our names
are similar) came into my office around our that afernoon and
told me he had just received inormation that sounded promising.
An inormant was telling Mark that a person was going to arrive
in the parking lot o Kendall avern on Gilmore Avenue around
6:15 p.m. with a quarter pound o methamphetamine.
Mark was known or having extremely reliable inormants,
so I put a lot o stock in this inormation. I thought we could
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13
GET US A SQUAD!
stake out the bar lot and take the car off when it pulls in. Id be
home by 7:30 to take my wie, Annette, out or our Valentines
Day dinner.
I called Annette and told her the plans. rue to orm she wasntupset, though Im sure she shook her head in disappointment
as she hung up the phone. Last-minute phone calls disrupted
our amily plans many times over the years. It was certainly not
uncommon or me to cancel amily plans based on a phone call
rom an inormant with important inormation on a drug deal
going down. onight was no different.
I called my crew together, telling them to report to a parking
lot at 24th and O streets at 5:30 p.m. sharp. I was always a stickler
or officers to be on time or these briefings, and my crew could
be counted on to meet my schedules.
Prior to the briefing I drove through the neighborhood
around Kendall avern, taking note o the best spots to hide
officers in vehicles so they would not be seen by the suspect
coming into the area. Te location o Kendall avern is unique in
that its surrounded by both industrial businesses and residentialhouses. Its a working-class neighborhood, with most houses
being one story with small ront yards and parking mainly on
the streets.
Gilmore Avenue actually runs diagonally past Kendall
avern, which made my job harder on positioning units in the
area. Gilmore was a main thoroughare leading southbound to
the city o Bellevue, a suburb o Omaha.Kendall avern, a typical small, one-story neighborhood
bar, is situated among businesses on one side and white rame
houses on the other. Te tavern was going to be difficult to watch
with ew vantage points that allowed us to get close without
being detected. I actually ound a vacant business east o Gilmore
Avenue and Madison that, when on oot, allowed me a visual
o the bars parking lot. Tis would be my surveillance location.
I would have the eyeball, meaning I was the guy who would
watch the bar lot and radio the others when the suspect arrived.
Te parking lot where the briefing was held was tucked
behind the old historic South Omaha City Hall. We were out o
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BUSTING BAD GUYS
14
sight o the traffic on busy 24th Street and drew little attention to
our activities in the lot. We were over a mile away rom Kendall
avern so even i someone saw us in this parking lot, there was
no way they would connect us to that particular neighborhoodeven though we were wearing bullet-proo vests saying Omaha
Police on the ront and back, and a marked black-and-white
cruiser was with us.
Te temperatures were cooling off as the sun went down,
and since the briefing was outdoors, we had our jackets and
sweatshirts on. It was just cold enough to see our breaths as we
talked about how we were going to take this guy down.Present in the parking lot were Officers Mark Lang, Brian
Heath, Gary Kula, Pam Heidzig, and Mark Desler o the Narcotics
Unit. Uniormed Officer Kenny Rowe arrived in the cruiser to
help us out. We huddled around the trunk o my car, while I gave
specific instructions to each officer about his and her roles in this
important and dangerous operation.
I placed great emphasis on the briefings beore any narcoticsoperation. It was incumbent on me as the supervisor to paint a
picture o the inormation we had and determine how we were
going to respond to that inormation and exactly what all the
officers roles were. I carried a small dry erase board in my trunk,
complete with a black marker and eraser. I drew the area o
Kendall avern on Gilmore Avenue, charting exactly where each
officer was going to be assigned.
I told the officers gathered that Mark Lang had developed
inormation that a suspect named One-Eyed Jack was due to
arrive in the parking lot o Kendall avern at 6:15 p.m. with a
quarter pound o methamphetamine in his possession. He was
described as being a Mexican male in his thirties, with a very
noticeable lazy eye.
A quarter pound o methamphetamine was an amount
possessed by a dealer, not a user. I broken down into smaller
amounts such as ounces and hal-ounces, a dealer could make
thousands o dollars rom the initial investment on that quarter
pound o meth.
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15
GET US A SQUAD!
We also had inormation that One-Eyed Jack would be
driving a white 1989 Oldsmobile Cutlass, and that the suspect
lived at a house near 28th and Madisona hal mile rom the
probable rendezvous point at the tavern. Officer Lang had drivenby the house prior to the briefing and located a vehicle matching
that description.
Most importantly, we had inormation that One-Eyed Jack
liked handguns, meaning we needed to use extreme caution
when taking his vehicle off. Our goal was to stop the bad guy
car and saely arrest the driver. At least, that was the plan.
Inormation like this was common on most drug operations
we did. We assumed the suspect would be armed, as many were.
In the backs o our minds was the idea o suspects shooting it
out with us, to keep rom going to jail. We never relaxed until the
handcuffs were on.
I assigned the ollowing officers to strategic locations and
duties:
I was responsible or overall command and the surveillance
o Kendall avern. It would be my job to call in the troops toarrest One-Eyed Jack when he arrived in the white Cutlass.
Officer Lang was assigned to an undercover car in the area
o Kendall avern, cruising in the area looking or the suspect
vehicle. Officer Desler did the same in another undercover car,
also on the lookout or One-Eyed Jack to arrive.
Officers Kula and Heidzig were in separate undercover
vehicles keeping the suspects house under surveillance. Teywere to let me know when the white Cutlass moved.
Officer Heath joined the uniormed officer, Rowe, in the
black and white, and they were told to park just east o Gilmore
Avenue on Madison Street. Tey were tucked away in a parking
lot, out o sight o the traffic on Gilmore. Tis cruiser would
be the primary take-off vehicle when One-Eyed Jack arrived at
Kendall avern.
It was important or a marked vehicle to be the first to
approach the suspect since there would be no doubt in the
suspects mind who was coming afer him. I an undercover car
rushed up on One-Eyed Jack, he could claim later he thought
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he was being jacked, street slang or a robbery. With a marked
Omaha Police cruiser being the first to approach One-Eyed Jack,
he could not claim ignorance.
Also, we had developed inormation that One-Eyed Jackspoke broken English, and Spanish was his primary language.Officer Heath was a fluent Spanish speaker, which is anotherreason he was chosen or this assignment in the black and white.I instructed Brian to give loud verbal commands in both Englishand Spanish over the cruisers public address system to One-Eyed Jack.
o add to our arsenal, I had Able One, the police helicopter,
assigned to this operation or one important reason. I One-EyedJack decided to run rom the black-and-white police cruiser, thehelicopter could drop down over the white Cutlass and take overthe pursuit. I avoided police pursuits at all costs, especially duringnarcotics operations. Tey were just too dangerous. It wasntworth getting an innocent citizen killed or an officer injured overa quarter pound o methamphetamine. Officer Greg Stanzel was
the pilot, and Officer Doug Klein the spotter in Able One.At exactly 6:05 p.m. we were all set up at our assignedlocations, working off a tactical channel that was assigned onlyor narcotics operations. Able One was circling a wide pattern,staying away rom the area o Kendall avern. Even though itwas February, and most car windows were up, we didnt wantto tip off One-Eyed Jack by the sound o a police helicopterhovering over Kendall avern. Able One could respond to the
bar in less than thirty seconds once One-Eyed Jack pulled intothe parking lot.
My plan was to deploy the marked cruiser and the chopperat the same time as soon as One-Eyed Jack arrived at the bar.
I was on oot in the darkness, in the back o a vacantbusiness on Madison Street. I stood next to a our-oot chain-link ence that bordered the backyard o a house just west o my
surveillance position.Tis was the only spot I could find that gave me an unob-structed view o the bars parking lot. I One-Eyed Jack pulled in,I would definitely see him rom where I was, about a hal blockto the east o the bar.
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A Basset Hound in the backyard o the house next to me
was obviously not happy that I was standing next to his domain.
Te dog continued a low baying, as I rantically tried to get
him to quiet down. Afer all, I was standing in the dark nextto his backyard. I certainly didnt want neighbors to think I
was a prowler, or a homeowner to come outside with a gun to
investigate why this pooch was barking.
I quickly made riends with the chunky Basset Hound by
reaching over the ence and rubbing its ears. Te dog must have
realized I was one o the good guys because the barking quickly
stopped, much to my relie.
As I was keeping the dog quiet and anticipating the arrival
o our suspected drug dealer, I heard Gary Kula say, over the
radio, Te white Cutlass has just lef the house and is headed
toward Kendall avern.
I immediately transmitted over the tactical channel, 5 Nora
5 to all units, lets be alert or the car to arrive in the bar lot.
Te trap was set. We just needed the suspected drug dealer
to drive his car into the bars parking lot, and wed take himdown. Now where the hell was he?
We didnt want to ollow One-Eyed Jack too closely or ear
o being detected. I he thought he was being ollowed, there
is no way he would come to Kendall avern, meaning all our
planning was or naught.
For several minutes we didnt have sight o the Cutlass. Even
the most experienced Narcotics Unit officers eel apprehensiveand nervous at these times, not knowing what is happening
next. Cops are control reaks by their very nature. Tey are used
to having total control o situations, directing peoples lives no
differently than directing traffic at an intersection.
Cops dont like it when they dont know where a potentially
armed suspect is during an operation. I was no different. My
heart was beating a bit louder knowing I was in a dark field by
mysel with an armed suspect coming into the same area with a
large amount o methamphetamine.
For all I knew, One-Eyed Jack might pull into the vacant
business where I was standing, deciding instead to walk to Kendall
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avern. Stranger things had happened on similar drug deals, and
I was well aware o Murphys Law on any operation involving
drug dealers.
Able One thought they might have located the white Cutlassnorthbound on 27th Street approaching Q Street. Tis location
was quite a deviation rom the normal route rom One-Eyed
Jacks house to Kendall avern, so I told the copter to stay with
the potential car.
At 6:16 p.m. Officer Mark Desler o the Narcotics Unit was
in the area o Kendall avern in an unmarked and saw a car
that looked good to be the white Cutlass. Over the radio Deslertold me, Teres a white Cutlass southbound on two-three
approaching the bar, Mark, check that.
Clear, I said back to Desler, adjusting my surveillance
position so I could see southbound traffic on 23rd Street.
As soon as Able One heard o a car approaching the bar
lot, the spotter, Doug Klein, transmitted, Were not one hundred
percent sure we have the right vehicle again since we were prettyar out. Can you advise us i Officer Desler has the right car?
At this exact moment, as soon as Officer Klein began
transmitting, I saw One-Eyed Jacks white Oldsmobile Cutlass
pull into Kendall avern, afer coming southbound on 23rd
Street as Officer Desler had stated. I wanted to call the marked
cruiser and helicopter in as soon as I could, but could not do so
since Able One was still transmitting about whether or not they
had the right car at 27th and Q streets.
It was now 6:17 p.m. I was going crazy as seconds counted,
and I couldnt get on the stupid radio.
As soon as Able One stopped transmitting, I jumped on the
air as quickly as I could with, Clear the air or me. Te cars in
the bar lot now. Come back to the bar now, Able One. Hes parked
acing northbound. Come on up here, cruiser. Hes parked acing
northbound and wont see you coming.
Kenny Rowe and Brian Heath were in the marked cruiser,
hidden a block away.
Brian immediately asked, Clear, you want us to move in?
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Yes, now! I yelled in an authoritative tone, knowing we hadwasted precious time on getting the occupant o the car secured.iming was everything on these operations. I we screwed up
and let One-Eyed Jack get out o the car, this meant we had lostcontrol. He could run in the bar, discard the quarter pound omethamphetamine, and keep rom going to jail. Or worse, hecould run, pull a gun, and shoot a cop.
It was vital we keep him contained in the car where we coulduse our training to saely get him out and handcuffed and, mostimportantly, to keep everyone sae.
Teyre getting out o the car, I reported, with a sense o
urgency in my voice. Te passengers out o the car walking inthe bar, dark clothes, try to get an eyeball on the guy walking intothe bar i somebody can. I bet hes going to have the stuff.
Seconds later I said, We need to get somebody in that bar tosecure that party. Hell be a Mexican male wearing dark clothes.
I saw the passenger entering Kendall avern, with the driverstaying behind the wheel. Already the operation had become
somewhat disjointed as we had one suspect in the car and onein the bar.Which one had the methamphetamine? No one knew, but
it was vital we get both o these guys secured as soon as possible.Luckily, I had enough manpower in the area to handle bothsuspects. Te marked cruisers job was to take off the guy in thecar. Te other units could handle the guy in the bar. I eitherdecided to run, we had Able One up above to track the suspect
wherever he decided to go.I saw the black-and-white police cruiser barrel into the parking
lot rom the east entrance off Gilmore Avenue. Unortunately thewhite Cutlass was now backing up in the parking lot, meaning thecruiser could not approach the rear, box it in, and leave the carnowhere to go.
Te cruiser quickly pulled behind the Cutlass and activatedits wide array o emergency lighting. Within seconds the suspect,sitting in the tranquility o his own car, was being lit up by floodlights and rotating red-and-blue strobes. Most suspects wouldsimply reeze in a state o utter terror, allowing the officers an
easy avenue or arrest.
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Tis guy was different. As soon as the police cruiser lit him
up, the Cutlass accelerated westbound through the lot, then
southbound on 23rd Street. ires were squealing and dust was
flying. Te driver, One-Eyed Jack, decided to leave his buddybehind to end or himsel.
Te cruiser tore off afer the car, with the sounds o roaring
engines audible rom my spot a block away. Within seconds I
heard sirens wailing, meaning we now had a pursuit on our hands.
Tis is not how I wanted things to turn out. One-Eyed Jack
was not going to jail easy.
Later we would find out that One-Eyed Jack was actually
Jose Chavez who, unbeknownst to us, had told riends and his
own kids that he was never going back to prison. Over the years
many suspects had bragged the same bravado, claiming they
would shoot it out with the cops rather than go back to an eight-
by-ten prison cell.
As soon as the Cutlass driven by Chavez raced out o the lot,
I told the other units what was happening, Able One, this cars
going to take off on us, drop down to three and put it out!Able One, Clear, the copter acknowledged.
In police jargon I was telling Able One to switch rom
our tactical radio channel to the Omaha Police channel or
cruisers assigned to the Southeast Precinct. Tis was designated
as channel 3 on the OPD radio system, and within seconds all
cars in the Southeast Precinct were aware as to what had just
occurred in the parking lot o Kendall avern and that we werenow chasing the white Oldsmobile Cutlass.
At 6:18 p.m. Officer Klein in Able One switched to channel 3.
Able One, clear the air or us, we have a vehicle running
rom narcotics officers, hes at Railroad Avenue and Gilmore. Hes
going to be going southbound on Gilmore. Its a white Cutlass
two-door.
Te radio dispatcher immediately diverted all other radio
traffic, making the channel exclusive or our situation trying
to capture Jose Chavez in the white Cutlass. 1818 hours, airs
cleared or emergency traffic only; airs cleared or emergency
traffic only, the dispatcher announced.
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At the same time, Officer Mark Desler had the presence o
mind to go inside Kendall avern and arrest the guy who had
just entered afer getting out o the Cutlass. His name was Martin
Moreno, age thirty-seven. Desler held him while the rest o uswere trying to catch the Cutlass. Moreno offered no resistance,
which was great since no one else had thought o going into the
bar to back Mark up with this guy.
For the next five minutes Jose Chavez drove in a crisscross
pattern between 27th to 30th, Monroe Street to W Street. We all
knew he lived in the middle o this area, and it was obvious he
was trying to work his way back home.
I was always amazed at the people I chased over the years
who would try to make it back to their house. Tis is the worst
place they can actually go since the police know thats what
theyre trying to do. It seems like many o these people, including
Chavez, elt that making it to home base was a type o saety
zone, which precluded them rom being arrested.
It was almost as i they thought they could look out the
window, stick out their tongues at us, and say, You lose, sucker.Shortly afer Chavez tore out o Kendall avern, I overheard
the police helicopter say, Able One to the cruiser, you can back
off. We have the vehicle under surveillance. Its still northbound
approaching Y Street.
My role as the supervisor was made much easier with
Able One assigned to the operation. With the chopper in the
air I didnt have to worry about high-speed pursuits throughresidential neighborhoods and the possibility o causing the
deaths o innocent civilians who might be walking down the
street or driving through intersections.
Once Able One had sight o Chavezs vehicle, the marked
cruiser backed off, letting spotter Doug Klein call out the cars
location rom his shotgun seat high above the neighborhood.
It also allowed Chavez to slightly relax and slow down, since
he wasnt looking at a black and white on his ass everywhere
he went.
Shortly afer this I called Officer Gary Kula over the tactical
channel and learned he was waiting at the intersection o 28th
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and Madison, which was just south o Chavezs house. Both Gary
and I strongly suspected that Chavez was trying to snake his way
through the neighborhood to make it back to his house.
Within minutes Gary and I were at the intersection,monitoring the radio traffic on channel 3.
Gary and I simply stood by our undercover cars, directly
across the street rom Chavezs house. We were ready or him i
he tried to make it home.
At 6:22 p.m. Doug Klein in Able One broadcast to all cars
on the Southeast Precinct channel that Chavez was now running
without lights. I hoped he wouldnt hit and kill someone.
Tis was quickly escalating into a dangerous situation or the
neighborhoods Chavez was driving through, and we needed to
end it soon.
Also, I highly doubted that any drugs that Chavez had
when he irst arrived at Kendall avern would still be in his
possession. He had been driving up and down streets or the
past our minutes, having plenty o chances to dump drugs
out o the car. his was especially true once Able One tookover the surveillance.
It cant be assumed that the cruiser originally chasing this
car, and the helicopter above, would see a package fly rom the
car. It was dark out, speeds were high, and things like that could
easily be missed.
I remember thinking what a nightmare it was going to be to
have officers walk the route that Chavez drove during his escapeattempt, trying to find a quarter pound o methamphetamine,
which was the size o a baseball.
At 6:23 p.m. Able One reported Chavez was driving
westbound on Monroe approaching 29th Street. Tis was one
block south o where Gary Kula and I were standing. We actually
looked to the south and saw the white Cutlass pass westbound
through the intersection, driving with no lights at a high rate o
speed. Now we knew he was close to his house, and Gary and I
suspected that we soon would be encountering Chavez.
Would he ditch his car and try to run to the house? Would
he pull into the driveway and try to run straight into the ront
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door. We had no idea but obviously we were going to find out hisplans soon enough.
We readied ourselves to quickly take action, knowing plenty
o backup was also in this neighborhood waiting or Chavez toditch his car.Able One was now giving rapid updates. All hell was ready
to break loose.
THERE HE IS!
At 6:24 p.m. Able One broadcast, Okay, vehicles slowingdown like hes going to bail here, as Chavez continued westbound
on Monroe toward 30th.
Able One, vehicle came to a stop, drivers out on oot, hes
northbound coming through a park.
Gary and I were a block to the north and knew Chavez
had to be running toward us. We were standing in a our-way
intersection, with residential houses surrounding us. It was themiddle o February and cold, meaning there were no people on
oot anywhere around us.
We were actually standing along the south side o Chavezs
house. We looked to our west, knowing that Chavez was most
likely running toward us in an attempt to get to his house. It was
now 6:25 p.m., and darkness had set in. Te streetlights provided
a well-lit street or us to look down, with several cars parked on
the north side o the street.
I had recruited Gary Kula to be on my crew afer I saw
his potential when he was in uniorm patrol. A ormer Marine
(although Marines would say once a Marine, always a Marine),
Gary just had that regimented military demeanor. He was in
his early thirties. His drug-sniffing dog Max, a black Lab, was
waiting or him in their unmarked car.
Tere he is! Gary yelled.
Within seconds o Able One telling us that our suspect
was running northbound, Gary and I saw Chavez pop out onto
Madison Street, running in a northerly direction rom a field on