BLOODY BATTLE RAGES FOR DRUG LORD'S EMPIRE

Carrillo's death has left Juarez, Mexico, residents in grip of fear,
violence

CIUDAD JUAREZ, Mexico - Few lament the death of purported drug lord Amado
Carrillo Fuentes as much as some residents of this bullet-riddled town.

"Juarez is a mess," grumbled Jorge Olvera, a bartender of a popular
downtown watering hole. "When Amado was alive at least there was a sense of
order to the madness."

Since the drug lord's purported freakish death following 8 1/2 hours of
plastic surgery and liposuction last July, the bodies have piled up as
blood spills in a nasty fight over control of a $10 billion annual drug
empire just across the U.S. border town of El Paso.

The battle for control of Mr. Carrillo's empire has claimed the lives of at
least 50 people in Juarez, some slain in spectacularly brutal fashion. Last
month, a former federal police commander with alleged ties to narcotics
traffickers sat inside a Jeep parked outside a hotel on a Sunday afternoon
when a man with an AK-47 assault rifle opened fire, State Judicial Police
investigators said.

At least 51 slugs struck the commander, Hector Mario Varela Mendoza, more
than 10 tearing through his skull, police forensics expert Dr. Enrique
Silva Perez said.

Still other victims vanish - more than 150, about 17 of them U.S. citizens
from El Paso, according to human-rights groups.

The fear instilled in residents is so great that Juarez Mayor Enrique
Flores Almeida recently took out three-quarter-page advertisement in Mexico
City newspapers, pleading with President Ernesto Zedillo for help.

"Ciudad Juarez has become a battleground for rival drug traffickers who
fight for control of the city," he wrote. "My government looks on with
indignation and impotency while the police assigned in charge of fighting
drug trafficking have proved inefficient with pathetic results and sorry
consequences for the city."

One of the most troublesome revelations for both sides of the border since
Mr. Carrillo's death has been the depths to which society participates
directly and indirectly in the drug trade.

Some in law enforcement say that as many as 100,000 people in Juarez alone
are in some way involved, a figure U.S. officials say is difficult to
confirm or deny.

Many say that beyond the drug lords and their most trusted aides, there are
tens of thousands of "mules" recruited from impoverished colonias to cross
small amounts of drugs across the border. On the U.S. side there are dozens
of homes that serve as stash areas for drugs.

One man nicknamed El Lonjas said he has been on the payroll of drug lords
for years. He often sneaks in 10 to 20 pounds of marijuana, or cocaine
across in his old clunker. He earns an "easy $500 to $1,000," per load, he
boasted, depositing up to $30,000 in an El Paso bank per month.

Following the death of Mr. Carrillo, El Lonjas said the upheaval has dented
his livelihood. He has three children to feed, plus a wife who works at a
manufacturing plant.

"Much has changed," he said from a bar in downtown Juarez. "Nowadays, I
don't know who to trust, or what to expect. I can't wait to get back to our
regular routine."

Since 1848 when the U.S.-Mexico boundary lines between El Paso and Juarez
were drawn, the two cities have stood cheek to cheek, along a meandering
Rio Grande overlooking a transnational community that's grown to 1.9
million people.

When one city sneezes, the other catches cold, goes the saying here. The
killing spree has left many with more than just a bad cold. Many are simply
dead scared.

"I don't go to Juarez as often as I used to," said Annie Alaniz, a senior
student at Burges High School in El Paso who, like many of her fellow
students, flocks to the Mexican side in search of fun on weekends. "But
when I do go I feel like I'm dancing on pins and needles, always looking
over my shoulder."

Even before the fight for control of the drug empire, Juarez had spiraled
toward chaos. Law enforcement agents acknowledge that they hadlong
considered Mr. Carrillo a ruthless killer, responsible for the deaths of
more than a hundred people since he took over in 1990.

He also corrupted hundreds of police, the former drug czar, and even, some
say, elected officials in Mexico, pumping as much as $500 million during
his career just for bribes, according to one former top U.S. law
enforcement agent.

Yet as bad as he was, there was a sense of eerie order in Juarez while he
was alive, officials said. Mr. Carrillo valued loyalty and routine,
officials on both side of the border say. Killing was a last resort.

Explained George A. McNenney, the U.S. Customs Service special agent in
charge in El Paso: "Amado [Carrillo Fuentes] was an evil genius. He was
considered a diplomat within and outside the organization. Everybody won. .
. . He believed in a system of give and take, and he believed in
negotiations. 'What does it take for you to be loyal.' That seemed to be
his philosophy.

"There was no war," he added. "Drugs moved on time. Payments were made on
time. He was amazing, a tremendous organizer."

These days, Mr. McNenney said, the organization is going through some tough
changes - "like any USA corporation they're going through some downsizing"
- - though the methods are obviously vastly different.

When news of Mr. Carrillo's death spread, many of his cronies felt that
"the boss is gone. We don't have to pay anymore. Well, now they're paying
with their lives," he said. "That's what I mean by downsizing."

Making matters worse, a bloody fight to fill the void left by Mr. Carrillo
rages among the drug lord's most trusted aides. Younger brother Vicente and
one of his senior lieutenants, Juan Jose "Blue" Esparragoza Moreno, battle
against Rafael Munoz Talavera, the former drug boss in Juarez who recently
completed a federal prison term, according to some Mexican state judicial
officials.

Mr. Talavera previously took out an ad in Mexico City denying any
involvement in the drug killings.

Recently, authorities said they are seeking four suspected triggermen they
believe responsible for many of the drug-related assassinations.

Despite roadblocks around the city, authorities reported no arrests.

U.S. officials also say the "black hand" of the Arrellano Felix brothers
drug cartel from Tijuana is also involved, a claim some Mexican officials
dispute.

In any case, the Juarez cartel remains as powerful as ever and the killings
in Juarez show no sign of ending anytime soon, U.S. and Mexican sources
say. Some U.S. officials predict the violence may linger on for another
year or so.

Juarez Police Chief Jose Luis Reygadas, a former accountant, oversees a
police force of 1,270 officers, plus a special unit of 450 special agents,
to protect a city of more than 1.2 million people.

Critics say many of his officers are undertrained, underpaid and corrupt.
Moreover, because drug trafficking is a federal offense, local police have
no jurisdiction over investigations, and even when they try to help, the
results can be disastrous.

Recently, a band of men in a black suburban opened fire on a Chevy blazer
driven by El Pasoan Francisco Alberto Alanis Talamantes in downtown Juarez.
Mr. Alanis lost control of the vehicle and was killed by bullets.

When senior police officer Jorge Frias Orosco and his partner, both armed
with .38-caliber pistols, stopped the men believed to be members of the hit
team, they were sprayed with bullets from an AK-47. Mr. Orosco was killed.
His partner survived.

"We're obviously at a disadvantage," Chief Reygadas said. "This is no way
to fight a war."

Eventually, Mr. McNenney predicts, some form of board of directors will
replace Mr. Carrillo, who also presided over the Mexican Federation, the
powerful group of drug traffickers that oversees an overall $30 billion a
year drug industry in Mexico.

"For now it will be difficult to maintain a sense of peace, or order," he
said. "The murders will continue to get out of hand because there are too
many interests involved."

) 1998 The Dallas Morning News