1-800-CRACK

Undercover op - Const. Michael McLaughlin tails a suspected
dial-a-doper during a recent operation involving the RCMP's undercover
Crime Reduction Unit.

It's Friday night, 10:15 p.m., and four unmarked RCMP cars are tailing
a blue Previa Multi-Purpose-Vehicle apparently being purposed in a way
its manufacturer did not intend - door-to-door crack-cocaine delivery.

The van pulls into the International Plaza apartment towers at
Capilano and Marine Drive and rolls through the lobby-loop slowly; two
men jump in the back, joining the driver and his passenger.

The Previa pulls out of the well-lit parking lot east onto Marine
Drive and the RCMP's undercover Crime Reduction Unit follows - an SUV,
two mid-size sedans and a compact car driven by officers equipped with
guns, radios and bullet-proof vests. Two minutes of traffic-weaving
pursuit later and the Previa angles south into the residential streets
of Norgate; the two International Plaza passengers pop out and
disappear into the darkness of a baseball field. A street source has
tipped CRU that the Previa is part of a North Shore "dial-a-dope"
scheme, and the officers have seen enough to move.

CRU's acting sergeant radios her team to rush the van and make an
arrest.

Most people have heard of dial-a-doping, but few understand how
pervasive it is on the North Shore or how it fits into the booming
drug trade and bloody shootouts gripping the Lower Mainland.

In order for The Outlook to investigate the world of mobile street
dealers North Vancouver RCMP Const. Michael McLaughlin arranged for a
full access ride-along with the CRU team on a busy Friday night, prime
time for crack dealing, as the squad attempted to build cases against
"dialers" through surveillance.

The eight-hour night shift started with a strategic briefing in North
Van headquarters at 6 p.m., with about 15 uniformed officers plus the
CRU team sitting in.

The watch commander outlined the night's priority issues. A resident
of the Lookout shelter abusing crystal meth, cocaine and morphine
while suffering a concurrent bipolar medical condition, had been
making threats to kill police officers.

"Ricky," a heavy crack user convicted of 23 break and enters in 10
nights, had broken his parole and was deemed likely to go on another
tear. Finally McLaughlin informed the room that a family of brothers
from Saudi Arabia, mid-level freelancers in the drug trade, were
getting "active" in a North Vancouver park.

It's entirely expected for all priority issues to have some relation
to drugs, McLaughlin explained, as the meeting broke.

"Drugs are the gasoline that fuel so much of the property crime, the
nuisance violence, the high-level (targeted) violence."

The CRU team has huddled in a corner of the detachment to finalize
plans before hitting the street. They're prepared to blend into the
dial-a-doper world, dressed like the average young adult out for a
casual night in a pub - wind-breakers, skateboard shoes, trendy
brand-name sportswear. They talk frankly about the enormity of the
drug problem out there; the Lower Mainland economy is booming and drug
culture is booming alongside it, attracting users and profiteers from
all walks of life, says Julie (real CRU-officer names not used), CRU's
acting sergeant.

"Drugs is the business to be in right now."

Big Jim nods agreement. He's an imposing figure, a former Lower
Mainland gang task force member who wouldn't look out of place in a
UFC ring: about 240-pounds of bulk piled on a 6'3" frame.

"The average person has no idea - on any night, any high-end
restaurant, I can point out two rival gangs," he says. And picking out
drug-related vehicles on the North Shore is like shooting fish in a
barrel, McLaughlin adds. Most times police run the plate on a flashy
SUV or luxury sedan with tinted windows, a drug possession charge pops
up. How did drug-gang culture get so prevalent so fast? Aside from
Vancouver's status as a hub for international drug trade, these
officers believe it's a cultural issue.

It may be a cliche out of a rap tune, but plenty of young men in the
Lower Mainland are keen to get rich or die trying, according to Big
Jim.

"Would I like to have a lot of money and drive nice cars and sleep
with lots of pretty women every night?" he asks rhetorically, with a
smile. "I talked to this guy (a high-level gangster in his 20s) who
told me he was fine with dying - he only wants to know how it's coming."

Jim shrugs.

"Today's bad guy is tomorrow's victim."

With near 30 targeted shootings in the Lower Mainland since January
2007, clearly dial-a-dopers are at high-risk of ending up in body
bags, like 32-year-old Burnaby man Darren Liao, shot dead through the
window of his vehicle following a floor hockey game at Delbrook
RecCentre in February 2008 in a hit police sources not quoted in this
story say was related to drug dealing.

"When we make a seizure (of drugs and money) the dial-a-dopers will
ask us for a receipt," McLaughlin says. "If you stop making money for
someone, they'll turn around in a minute and finish you."

Shortly after hitting the streets CRU have spotted a well-known
dial-a-doper near the Lynnwood Inn Pub. The four cars "set up" on a
street behind the bar while the "dialer" goes into a car wash.
McLaughlin says his name is Aaron; he's a skinny Caucasian in his
early 20s, driving a 1995 compact and wearing a "criminal's uniform" -
black hoodie, ball cap tilted to the side and jeans.

Dialers will sell anything, but mostly crack, McLaughlin
explains.

"Crystal (meth) is popular, heroin and cocaine goes up and down
depending on the cost; the great thing with crack, it seems like
people try it once and it's over ... Aaron is a massive drug addict,"
he adds, while eyeing the dealer in the car's rear-view mirror. "I've
run into him a number times, every time he's drug addled ... I
wouldn't be surprised if he ends up dead."

The CRU squad banter in street lingo on the radio and make irreverent
wise-cracks to stay loose and alert - frankly, surveillance is boring.

Waiting for targets to "go mobile" or present suitable evidence can
consume mind-numbing hours on end.

Aaron fusses in the car wash for 45 minutes, even though CRU joke that
his "rack" is a bit of a junk heap.

"I might just go over there and tell him his car looks clean so he can
get on with his night," one of the guys says on the radio.

Finally satisfied with the wash job, Aaron turns left on Main towards
Lonsdale, with three CRU cars tailing him up the hill and McLaughlin
keeping pace on side streets. As McLaughlin pulls up to Lonsdale on
Sixth, Aaron drives north, craning his neck to "heat check" for cops
on the side streets.

"That's a good indication he's in crime mode," McLaughlin
comments.

Five minutes later Aaron has looped around and gone into an apartment
on West Sixth. McLaughlin sets up at Chesterfield and the other CRU
cars are on Sixth. Twenty minutes pass and a sparkling silver Audi
with glossy rims rolls past McLaughlin's car super-slow. The young
blond-haired driver is not shy about gazing at the three occupants in
the unmarked car, even seeming to smirk. Ten minutes later he slides
by going east, even slower, looking even longer at McLaughlin.
McLaughlin calls the plate in, and the CRU team verify it's known.
It's possible the driver is "heat checking" for Aaron, still holed up
in the apartment.

"Aaron is not coming out," McLaughlin says after consulting on the
radio. "We're not going to wait all night - there's so many fish in
the sea."

Soon after, the team is circling the blocks surrounding the 7-Eleven
at Third and Chesterfield. McLaughlin calls this part of Lower
Lonsdale " drug central"; two or three known crack addicts are
jitter-bugging around the store nervously; one calls from the public
"crack phone" on the sidewalk near the convenience store.

It looks like a dial-a-dope call, and the silver Audi driver's
behaviour indicates he's on the receiving end.

He's been seen circling the area "heat checking" and dispatch puts out
the call to arrest him ASAP; his action seems too brazen. The CRU cars
search Lower Lonsdale for 30 minutes, but the Audi has
disappeared.

At 9:45 p.m. McLaughlin rams his car into gear from near the city bus
depot and drives towards Old Dollarton Highway. A Blue Previa has been
spotted in the area, apparently making a crack delivery. It's dark and
the CRU team say they didn't get a definitive look at the suspected
drug exchange; the van has been observed making the rounds the past
two nights but CRU wants more evidence. As McLaughlin approaches
coming east the van passes going west at Mountain and Main, followed a
few cars back by the CRU team.

The driver weaves west on Marine Drive, but not crazy-fast; he seems
to have no idea he's being tailed.

After picking up two at the International Plaza and dropping them in
Norgate, he continues to circle the dark residential area off of
Tatlow road. The CRU team are set to pounce, but after a hasty radio
conference they decide to pull back from the arrest - they're not sure
if the International Plaza pick-ups are still in the area, and they
don't want to bust the van unless they clearly outnumber the dealers
and buyers.

Heightened caution is understandable considering drug-related violence
linked to the International Plaza.

In addition to weapons seizures made there by the gang task force, two
North Van residents were gunned down in a stairwell outside the
apartments in October 2006. Last summer 22-year-old Coquitlam man Tony
Ivanic was charged in the shooting after allegedly having a kilo of
coke and weapons including an AK-47 and hollow point bullets seized
from his residence.

The Previa dawdles in the Norgate streets, possibly looking for
another delivery, then pulls back out onto Marine travelling east with
CRU in pursuit. After circling a neighbourhood off of Main and
Mountain Highway without hooking up for a sale, the van crosses the
Second Narrows.

The CRU team don't hesitate to follow into Vancouver Police Department
territory.

"If you ever needed a more graphic illustration that these dealers
don't respect borders, here it is," McLaughlin says.

The van passes the Commercial Drive area and finally stops in a
residential street off East 34th and Victoria Drive; CRU sets up
again. McLaughlin parks on Victoria pointed towards the lights of
Grouse Mountain to the north; it's a warm night and karaoke music
leaks out to the street from a nearby noodle restaurant.

At 11:15 p.m. a car approaches the van; the van's driver jumps in; the
car takes off up 34th and the van's passenger enters a restaurant,
leaving the Previa empty. CRU let the suspects go without a
confrontation. There'll be no arrests tonight, but McLaughlin is still
pleased.

"We had a tip-off that they would be doping and end up where they
did," he says. "From our perspective that's a fairly successful
surveillance operation."

During the course of the pursuit, CRU has gathered abundant
information. The van is linked to various addresses, people and other
cars. And the behaviour pattern has been copiously noted for evidence
purposes. CRU can give the information to the North Van detachment's
drug section, who may then connect dots and cast a wider net for
bigger fish.

As he drives back to North Van, McLaughlin explains how dial-a-doping
works, using the Previa as an example. Drug users called the dealer's
line and the men promptly delivered, likely $20 or $40 rocks of crack,
little white pellets weighing .2 and .4 grams respectively.

The dialer driving the Previa is not its registered owner; he's just a
street soldier working a shift, who nevertheless can earn upwards of
$65,000 a year, if he works hard, stays out of jail, and doesn't cross
his suppliers.

The Previa's registered owner is likely just one step up the chain,
either loosely affiliated to one of the Lower Mainland's violent drug
gangs, or a freelancer running a small dope line.

The line is run from an interchangeable SIM (Subscriber Identity
Module) card, popped from one cell phone to the next at shift change.

Back at headquarters the CRU team explain that they're pretty much
beyond frustration, as time and time again, charges don't stick on
dealers. Clearly it's not as simple as observing a deal and swooping
in with guns drawn. For one, the drug dealers have good lawyers.

"The criminals have the edge in terms of evidence, you have to be
really clever in getting proof," McLaughlin says.

"We can't focus on the justice side, you'll go nuts if you worry about
what the courts do," another CRU member adds. "What we're doing is
really disruption (of drug dealing)."

But McLaughlin is careful in expressing whether most cops would like
to see a tougher legal system in response to drugs and gangs.

"There are checks and balances ... it's not our job to criticize, all
we can do is go to our politicians like everyone else."

Going back to the cultural causes of current drug wars, Big Jim argues
if people feel gangs and drugs are out of control in the Lower
Mainland, they ought to consider suppliers are only filling demand
that's out there. And there's the role of marijuana, casually accepted
by many as a harmless narcotic. After all, he notes, "BC Bud" funds
the guns and cocaine pouring into the province.

"The only way I see any of this (drug violence) changing is social
will," he says. "People have to stand up and say 'I'm not going (to
accept) going out to dinner where someone gets shot.'"

Several days later, Const. McLaughlin gave this update message to The
Outlook.

"The blue Toyota van we followed last week was stopped tonight by CRU.
The driver was arrested for an unrelated hit and run, and 14 grams of
crack cocaine were seized near the van (they'd been thrown out) along
with 1.8 grams of heroin. All were packaged for sale. The driver was
the same driver we followed. Charges for the drugs are possible, but
we are still working on getting a more definitive link between the
driver (there was a passenger too) and the drugs. Now the driver owes
a fair chunk of money to his supplier."