Reverse Drug Buy

My unit (MADET-Multi-Agency Drug Enforcement Team) was a unit that was comprised of officers from surrounding municipalities around Birmingham. We had several cities represented within the unit. I was from Hueytown and we had officers from Fairfield, Midfield, Bessemer and Pleasant Grove. The Federal Government paid the cities our salary, which enabled them to hire another officer to replace our absence from that cities Police Department. We wore normal clothes, drove normal cars, (mine was a 1984 Red Dodge Ram 4x4). and rarely reported back to our respective police agencies. For all intents and purposes, not many people even knew what we did.

I will tell you what we did. We busted drug traffickers. We went after them both large and small. We had various ways of doing it. We would buy and sell drugs. One of the ways that had the most success (but also huge penalties for failure) was the "reverse buy". Basically, the "reverse buy" was when we would take seized drugs, and attempt to sell them to another trafficker. This was high risk as hell because you had to gain their trust, in order to get them to try and buy dope from you. It was considered entrapment if you initiated the transaction. Sometimes a "reverse buy" deal would take months. You had to check with the DA all along to make sure that what you were doing could not lead to entrapment charges. So, we were extremely careful. Everything was either voice recorded or video recorded.

Our voice recorders were called Unitels and looked just like a beeper that the criminals were using. It was actually a transmitter and we always had a unit close by recording what was being said. We really tried to cover our asses.

It was early Sepember 1989 and we were setting up to video a "reverrse buy" at the Red Roof Inn in Homewood AL. It was a hotel that had been the scene of a lot of drug activity and was situated on the side of Red Mountain. We were supposed to be selling $75,000.00 of high grade sensimilla weed that we had confiscated earlier in the summer. There were about 10 officers working on this case. The buyer was supposed to be a really fat guy from Panama City named "Big John". The plan was for us to get a room at the Inn, he would beep us, the undercover officer would go to the parking lot with the weed, get the cash and leave. "Big John" would then be arrested as he left the Inn's parking lot. It was a fool proof plan....or so we thought.

We had set up video surveillance of the parking lot and had officers in different rooms and cars in order to prevent "Big John" from getting out of our grasp. It was HOT. I am talking humidity levels matching the temperatures. And the temp was in the mid 90's. Walking outside for any legth of time brought about profuse sweating and just a general dampness. Uncomfortable as hell. Anyway, all of the other officers were dressed in summer type clothes, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, whatever. Except for me. I had on jeans and a golf shirt. They laughed because I was absolutely baking in those jeans.

At about 5pm, "Big John" pulls into the parking lot of the Inn and beeps the undercover officer. The undercover officer leaves his room with this big bag of weed. It was fucking huge and it stunk like shit (good shit though). As the undercover gets into the parking lot, almost to "Big John's" car, "Big John" gets out of his car with a suitcase with the $75,000.00 in it. As the two start to approach each other for the exchange, a Birmingham Police unit, on routine patrol, pulls right into the parking lot that the undercover officer and "Big John" were in. "Big John" panics and slings the suitcase towards the undercover. When it hits the ground, it opens and all of that cash starts being blown around the lot. We later accounted for every dollar. Anyway, "Big John" takes off running up the hill. Now remember, this is Alabama, heat and humidity off the charts. All of the other officers break cover and start chasing "Big John" up that fucking hill. But they hit the side of the hill and are stopped. You know what stopped them? Big ass thorn bushes all the way up the side of the hill. It was impenetrable for anyone wearing shorts. And kudzu, everywhere. Their legs were being cut to shreds from those thorns. And with the sweat and dirt, it hurt like hell. I, on the other hand had no problem getting through these thorn bushes because I was wearing blue jeans.

Now, "Big John" could not run very fast but in his adrenaline rush and the other officers inability to get up the hill because of those damn bushes and kudzu, he was actually close to getting away. I charged through those bushes ignoring the pricks from the thorns and caught up to him, just as he reached the top of the hill. I had my gun out, an H&K P7 M13 squeeze cocker. It was the best gun I had ever carried. 9mm German made precision. It was set up so that squeezing the grip cocked the pistol. Once it was cocked very little force was required to keep it cocked. The trigger then only required 4 lbs of force to fire. Also at the top of the hill was a ground level electrical transformer that looked like a big, green metal box.

Well, "Big John" and I got into a fight at the top of the hill. As were were fighting, he managed to grab my pistol while I was gripping it, which cocked it. As I wrestled to get it away from him it discharged and I could see where it struck the ground and ricocheted into the transformer box. "Big John" screamed, "You motherfucker, you shot me" I said, "No I didn't you fat son of a bitch". After the gun went off "Big John" no longer wanted to fight. I did ask him, "Where did you get hit?". We could not find anywhere that appeared to be bleeding. We were both covered in red clay dirt (That is why they call Red Mountain by it's name) and sweat. Anyway, I handcuffed "Big John" and we ambled on down the hill to the waiting officers and he was arrested.

We had to meet at Fairfield Police Dept to book "Big John" and all of the other officers met us there. Whlel taking John's info we found out his name was John David Bilbro. He asked if before we put him in a cell, if he could take a shower because he was still covered in sweat, grime, and that red clay dirt from fighting with me. He was allowed to do that. I had to watch him while he showered. Well, after a minute or so he screamed and started yelling. I asked him, "What the hell is wrong with you?" It seems he had been hit with a bullet, right through the fat hanging off of his side. (remember, he was really fat) Hit no organs or anything, just fat, through and through. It did not bleed because fat sealed the hole, I guess, and with the adrenaline pumping through him, he didn't really feel it. But as soon as the hot water and soap hit it while he was taking a shower, he felt it. He started crying, talking about suing us and shit like that. We got a paramedic to come in, look at the hole, treat it and call an ambulance to take him to the hospital. He got sentenced to 10 years for trafficking.

I almost got into trouble on that one because we did not report the incident to my police chief at Hueytown. They had rules that stated anytime a firearm was discharged, there had to be an investigation. As it was, the leader of MADET, John Taylor, stood up for me and told my chief that since I really wasn't working for Hueytown, he did not think I should have to be investigated by Hueytown.

Now, John Taylor was about 6'8" and towered over most other officers. He was a Lieutenant with the City of Fairfield and also was a saxaphone player in the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and would often show up at drug busts wearing a black tuxedo with a red cummerbund, having just finished a concert or musical performance. Anyway, the chief at Hueytown did not want to get on John Taylor's bad side, so he dropped it.

I know this one does not have blood and guts but I thought it was rather humorous.