DRUG MULES FACE POTENTIALLY DEADLY CONSEQUENCES

LAWRENCE, Mass. - Miguel Tavera came to Lawrence last March, living
with relatives and working several jobs so he could send money back to
his wife and two young daughters in the Dominican Republic.

But when the 27-year-old was laid off several months ago, he had to
find another way to make money. He hooked up with two local drug
dealers who offered to pay him to fly to the Dominican Republic and
carry small, tightly-wrapped packages of heroin back into the country
in his stomach.

But no one has seen Tavera since he flew back to Boston on Nov. 18.
His family and police believe he is dead.

It's not an uncommon story. Last spring, Merlyn Gonzalez, 26, left
Lawrence and flew to the Dominican Republic. She was paid $4,000 to
ingest 47 tiny bags of heroin, which carried a street value of
approximately $50,000.

Unlike Tavera, Gonzalez made it back to Lawrence. But when she got
home, she became ill when some of the bags ripped open, causing an
overdose. She was rushed to the hospital, and after the drugs had
passed through her system, she was charged with trafficking heroin.
She recently pleaded guilty and was sentenced to five years and a day
in prison.

Earlier this month, Salem, N.H., police broke open a cocaine-smuggling
operation after 25-year-old Mally Cruz Rodriguez of Puerto Rico died
of an overdose at the Park View Inn on Route 28.

Rodriguez's twin sister, Nelly, also became sick, but survived after
doctors removed 19 cocaine bags from her stomach. She was later
charged with illegal possession of a controlled drug.

Tavera, Gonzalez and the Rodriguez sisters are known as drug mules,
people who use their bodies to smuggle drugs across international
boundaries.

The practice has been used for decades to transport drugs without
detection, according to local police. Mules are generally paid a small
percentage of what their cargo will yield in illegal drug sales once
they get across the border. Their work puts their lives at great risk
with every package they swallow.

"If they don't get sick, they win," said Lawrence police Sgt. Mark
Ciccarelli, a veteran drug detective.

A sophisticated operation

In Lawrence, detectives believe that mules are leaving and returning
to the city with drugs on a regular basis. However, police involvement
with mules is limited and largely occurs only if a drug mule becomes
ill or dies.

Lawrence police Detective Robert LeFebre met Gonzalez last March,
after she was admitted to the intensive care unit at Lawrence General
Hospital. An emergency room doctor said she displayed all of the
tell-tale signs of an opiate overdose: Her pupils were as small as
pinpoints, she was nodding off, her complexion was pale and her
respiration was low.

She later told LeFebre she swallowed the drugs to pay off a
shoplifting fine handed down in a New Hampshire court.

"She thought the fine was $4,000. It was actually $400," the detective
said.

Swallowing packages of drugs and capturing them after they pass
through the body may seem a crude, even desperate way to make money.
But police say the process is sophisticated and driven by drug dealers
who do everything from give bonuses to recruiters, buy plane tickets
and provide transportation to and from airports. They also prepare and
coach the mules so they can ingest as many drugs as possible.

"It's a huge network," said Ciccarelli, noting that dealers are always
looking for prospective mules.

Baby carrots or hard-boiled eggs are often used as practice for
swallowing the drug packages, which are similar in size. Cocaine and
heroin are often sealed in balloons, surgical gloves or condoms.
Bigger drug dealers use a machine that enshrouds the drug in a thin
layer of nylon, LeFebre said.

Before making a trip back to the United States, the mules will clean
out their system using laxatives, making as much room as possible in
their digestive system.

As they swallow the bags, they are accompanied by a "counter" who
keeps track of how much drug the mules are holding and how much it is
worth, LeFebre said.

For the trip back, mules will take Immodium and prescription Lomotil
to prevent them from going to the bathroom and releasing any of the
internal cargo.

"Once they get home, the process starts again in reverse," LeFebre
explained.

In Lawrence, Tavera's family said they know of a Prospect Hill
apartment where mules go to pass the drugs after their trips. Police
checked the area, but found no sign of the missing man.

Police admitted that many mules are able to go about their business
completely undetected by authorities. But the same mules can't be used
too frequently, or they could be recognized by airport security and
customs agents, police said.

There have also been cases in other parts of the country where mules
were killed and gutted for the lucrative stashes in their stomachs.

"It's a way to make quick money, but it's not a healthy one," Lawrence
police Chief John Romero said. "It's a huge chance to take."

Family fears the worst

Tavera's disappearance remains an open missing persons case with
Lawrence police. But his family is not optimistic.

When he came to Lawrence last spring, he moved in with his aunt Teresa
Gonzalez of Railroad Street. He enrolled in an asbestos removal class
and started working with his uncle, Teresa's brother, Noe Gonzalez.

In October, he was laid off. He found temporary jobs cleaning offices
at two companies that later went bankrupt. He couldn't collect
unemployment because he hadn't worked anywhere long enough.

Without work, Tavera spent his days roaming the streets and over time
became more distant, his family said. They believe he was recruited to
be a drug mule by two men he knew from his hometown of Nagua in the
Dominican Republic.

Without telling anyone, he left for the Dominican Republic. Before he
came back, Tavera called his wife and told her he was boarding a plane
to Boston. The couple has two daughters, ages 5 and 1.

"He did it for the money because he didn't have a job, and he was
desperate," Teresa Gonzalez said.

Since reporting him missing, Tavera's family has looked everywhere:
under bridges, in the river, in the canal, and through wooded areas in
the Prospect Hill section of the city.

"There is not one home where we haven't knocked looking for him," his
aunt said. "We just want to know what they have done with Miguel."

The disappearance has taken a toll on the family. Tavera's mother is
in a hospital in Puerto Rico. And Teresa Gonzalez has lost 15 pounds
and has trouble sleeping.

They just want to be able to say goodbye.

"All we want is to find his body so we can give it a proper burial,"
Noe Gonzalez said.