The Deadly Path: How Operation Fast & Furious and Bad Lawyers Armed Mexican Cartels

By Peter J. Forcelli, Keelin MacGregor and Stephen Murphy

“In a raw and unflinching account that details his harrowing journey as whistleblower in the Fast and Furious federal scandal, Forcelli shows the public and personal cost of standing up for justice.”
—Jonathan Green, author of Sex Money Murder: A Story of Crack, Blood, and Betrayal

Pete Forcelli was a highly respected federal agent in New York City, where he made an impact on violent crime by successfully targeting some of the city’s most violent street gangs by using federal racketeering and continuing criminal enterprise statutes in conjunction with federal prosecutors. In early 2007, he was promoted to a supervisory position in Phoenix and quickly discovered that federal prosecutors were not charging criminals for violating federal firearms laws, even in instances where they knew guns were being trafficked to ultra-violent drug cartels and then used in crimes that were shocking to the conscience.

When those very same prosecutors spoke about possibly indicting John Dodson, a special agent who blew the whistle on Operation Fast and Furious, Forcelli stepped forward and contacted Congress. Forcelli became a whistleblower himself, detailing how federal prosecutors in Arizona not only failed to prosecute gun traffickers, but allowed a man who was making hundreds of hand grenades for the Sinaloa Cartel to continue his operations unabated for years. At that moment, those prosecutors and officials from the Department of Justice came after him, leading to a nearly four-year battle for Forcelli to clear his name.
This book provides his insider’s account of the scandal that stands as one of the worst stains on federal law enforcement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Permuted
• Release date: Mar 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798888452653

Book preview

cover.jpg

Advance Praise for

The Deadly Path

A Bulldozer moves relentlessly forward, its blade scraping off imperfections, its tract belt crushing what remains behind into the dirt. Government sometimes works the same way, viewing the truth as nothing more than an obstacle to plow aside or bury. When Pete Forcelli—a patriot, talented investigator, and respected supervisor—blew the whistle on misconduct, he found himself in the dozer’s path. He dusted himself off, fought back, reviving his life and career to tell us his story.

-Jay Dobyns, ATF Agent (ret.) and New York Times Bestselling Author of No Angel: My Harrowing Undercover Journey to the Inner Circle of the Hells Angels

Peter Forcelli is a courageous and experienced American Patriot who worked his way from s street cop in New York City to a Senior Executive in the ATF in Washington. His story highlights one of the critical, systemic issues law enforcement faces as they are trying to protect the public. Federal prosecutors are vital partners and must be committed in working side by side with law enforcement professionals. It’s evident the prosecution system failed the taxpayers as criminal networks sent mass amounts of firearms and grenade parts to the deadly Mexican Cartels and operated with impunity.

-Derek Maltz, Special Agent in Charge (ret.), DEA Special Operations Division

Pete Forcelli served on the frontline trying to stop gun trafficking, with the cartels on one side and a clumsy government bureaucracy on the other. If you want to understand why the iron river of firearms flows so fiercely and the challenges of federal operations you need to hear his story.

-Ioan Grillo, Author of Blood Gun Money: How America Arms Gangs and Cartels and El Narco: Inside Mexico’s Criminal Insurgency

A sobering look inside the U.S. effort to stop gun smuggling to Mexico. Reads like a novel, but rips naked a dysfunctional bureaucracy…

-William La Jeunesse, Fox News National Correspondent

In a storied career that spans hard-charging cases against some of the most ruthless drug dealers in the Bronx before ascending ATF’s top ranks, Peter Forcelli’s memoir is a rare insight into the life of a federal agent who staked integrity above all else. In a raw and unflinching account that details his harrowing journey as whistle-blower in the Fast and Furious federal scandal, Forcelli shows the public and personal cost of standing up for justice.

-Jonathan Green, Author of Sex Money Murder: A Story of Crack, Blood and Betrayal

Pete Forcelli has a long-standing reputation as being a straight-shooter in law enforcement circles. In this page turning account, he captures the challenges that special agents face every day: Criminals, the bureaucracy and attorneys who are duty bound to prosecute cases, but who at times have other agendas. Readers will get an unfiltered view of what it is really like to investigate violent crime cases in the U.S.

-Ken Croke, ATF Special Agent (ret.) and Author of Riding with Evil: Taking Down the Notorious Pagan Motorcycle Gang

Grips you like a gritty crime novel until you remember it’s an accounting of one of America’s most troubling and deadly law enforcement failures. Pete courageously stepped forward risking his career to end Fast & Furious. The media blamed gun dealers but Pete shows they helped ATF to stop gun trafficking. Their cooperation was betrayed by those responsible for Fast & Furious.

-Lawrence Keane, Chief Spokesman for the firearms industry, National Shooting Sports Foundation (NSSF)

A KNOX PRESS BOOK

An Imprint of Permuted Press

ISBN: 979-8-88845-264-6

ISBN (eBook): 979-8-88845-265-3

The Deadly Path:

How Operation Fast & Furious and Bad Lawyers Armed Mexican Cartels

© 2024 by Peter J. Forcelli and Keelin MacGregor

All Rights Reserved

Cover art by Jim Villaflores

All people, locations, events, and situations are portrayed to the best of the author’s memory. While all of the events described are true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Permuted Press, LLC

New York • Nashville

permutedpress.com

Published in the United States of America

This book is dedicated to the memories of Border Patrol Agent Brian Terry and Department of Homeland Security Investigations Special Agent Jaime Zapata. May they both Rest In Peace, and may this book provide their families with some answers that I so wholeheartedly believe that they deserve.

Contents

Foreword

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Chapter 2: What Did I Get Myself Into?

Chapter 3: The Big Gun Show

Chapter 4: We’re Spinning Our Wheels

Chapter 5: Fidelity. Bravery... Integrity?

Chapter 6: This Is Cartel Country

Chapter 7: Finally, Some Traction

Chapter 8: Phoenix Group I - Resuscitated... For Now

Chapter 9: Kicking And Screaming

Chapter 10: Hit The Reset Button

Chapter 11: Do Not Eat The Lettuce

Chapter 12: The Painful Sting Of ‘I Told You So’

Chapter 13: Caught Red-Handed

Chapter 14: A Disaster Awaits Us

Chapter 15: Headlong Into The Whirlwind

Chapter 16: So You Want A Fight?

Chapter 17: Geez, Shit Just Got Real

Chapter 18: Fallout

Chapter 19: The Other Side Of The Storm

Afterword

Epilogue: Where Are They Now?

About The Author

FOREWORD

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the following:

Integrity – firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values. Synonyms include honesty, morality, probity, righteousness.

Courage – mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty. Synonyms include bravery, fearlessness, guts, intestinal fortitude, valor, virtue.

Oath – a solemn usually formal calling upon God or a god to witness to the truth of what one says or to witness that one sincerely intends to do what one says. Synonyms include pledge, promise, vow, word.

Oath of office – an official promise by a person who has been elected/appointed to a public office to fulfill the duties of the office according to the law.

Typical United States Government Oath of Office:

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

Dedicating one’s self to a life of public service is a highly honorable act, something that many would never commit to. The title Public Servant says it all, an individual who is willing to serve the public, who will put others before himself/herself. In many cases, those public servants place themselves in harm’s way, facing dangers that most will never face, and most will never even know about. Unfortunately, some willingly make the ultimate sacrifice of giving their lives to protect others, as well as our country. I view the title of Public Servant as a badge of honor.

These selfless acts of heroism require a system that works together towards a common goal and a successful conclusion. This can only be accomplished when the individuals within the various parts of that system well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office in which they entered. The success cannot be accomplished alone. It requires everyone to do their job, to discharge the duties of their offices, to live up to the oath they took, to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. This includes law enforcement, prosecutors, and the entire judicial system. And it requires leadership, integrity, and courage at every level.

Peter Pete Forcelli was a Public Servant for 35 years, first as a sworn law enforcement professional with the New York Police Department, and later as a Special Agent with the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. He faced life-and-death situations regularly. Pete repeatedly demonstrated his commitment to service, displaying leadership, integrity, and service throughout. The law enforcement culture can be and is a very close-knit group that, at times, can be hesitant to disclose internal issues. This is true of many hazardous occupations and is born from facing dangerous situations repeatedly. But there are times when leadership may be lacking; when bad decisions are made and go unchecked; when actions are based on personal biases or a dislike of a person or organization; when people put their own career-building priorities before what is best for the public; when some forget the oath of office they took. And when this happens, who wins? Indeed, not the citizens of the United States, and certainly not the citizens of Mexico. The criminals win, that’s who!!

The Deadly Path to Operation Fast and Furious details not just one bad decision by a single agency, but numerous bad decisions by several agencies and their leadership. Thankfully, Pete Forcelli, and few others, had the integrity, courage, guts, you pick the adjective to use here, to live up to their Oaths of Office and bring these dangerous decisions and acts to light. This righteous act earned him the title of a whistle-blower and put him at odds with the local U.S. Attorney’s Office, the U.S. Department of Justice, members of the U.S. Congress, his own agency, and some of his colleagues. But while most others stood by and remained silent, Pete demonstrated what it took to honor his Oath of Office, pursue justice, and do the right thing. Through integrity and courage, he set his standards and lived up to those standards, thereby setting an example for all to aspire to and follow. Could you, and would you, do the same?

Steve Murphy

Special Agent in Charge (retired)

Drug Enforcement Administration

INTRODUCTION

January 18, 2011

A Phoenix police 911 dispatcher crackled through my radio….

We have a residential robbery in progress. Possible shots fired. Address is 9112 West Cordes Road.

Sounds like a home invasion gone bad. The Task Force is on the way.

Minutes later, we pulled up to the address alongside several uniformed police officers. As the Home Invasion investigation group, we were pretty much embedded with Phoenix Police Department’s HIKE Unit (Home Invasion, Kidnapping and Extortion). Two marked cars already sat waiting, but no one had entered the house yet. We approached the front door, stacked one behind the other. After a hard rap and a beat to listen for movement, one of my agents cracked it open slowly and then pushed it wide. As we stepped through the doorway, the tang of metal hit my nostrils. A slippery sheen coated the floor. Blood. Lots of it.

As a former New York homicide detective, I’m familiar with crime scenes. When somebody is killed or gravely wounded, you can often tell by the amount of blood and the thickness of it. In that house, fresh red blood pooled on the ground and smeared the furniture. The coppery stench felt thick in the air and our mouths when you inhaled.

Clear, plastic bags lay spread out on the floor, sliced open, consistent with the kind used to package marijuana for smuggling over the border. Everywhere you looked, plastic bags and spent shells littered the floor, covered with blood. Choked by the fetid air, our boots slid lightly on the still drying floors. Probably drug dealers robbing other drug dealers, trying to protect their stuff. Not a good scene. It could easily turn out to be a murder situation with a body or two somewhere. That, or someone was now driving like hell to the hospital. One way or another, a felony had taken place.

House is clear! someone shouted.

Everyone had fled, so the place sat empty, but as we scanned the rooms, we recovered an assortment of guns. With each gun, we sent in the serial numbers to check for any potential leads, to figure out where they came from and who they might belong to. With several sent in already, we were prepping for our next steps when Special Agent Greg Cowan’s phone went off. Holding the phone up to his ear, his expression slid quickly from excitement at the gun find to weariness to bewilderment, then he lowered the phone slowly.

What is it? I asked. He dropped his eyes, clearly not wanting to tell me.

You’re not going to believe this, Pete. It’s Hope McAllister. He scuffed his foot on the filthy floor. They’re asking us not to talk to the dealer.

"Not talk to the dealer?"

Greg sighed. Apparently, the person who sold one of these guns—the rifle—well, that gun is on Group VII’s list. It’s one of the suspect guns from a dealer involved in Fast and Furious.

Rage filled my head with white noise. I could hardly believe my ears. The rifle was on a list of trafficked guns related to a case in which almost no one had been apprehended; we were standing in a bloodbath where the gun was found, and Hope had just ordered my team to stand down? I shook my head as I looked around at my agents, who stood back, wary, uncertain how this would land.

All those unrecovered guns are on their list and the media is poking around and they’re still doing this? I thought. Our higher-ups, the Arizona U.S. Attorney, they’re already getting involved in dodging anything related to Fast & Furious. The ATF Phoenix Field Division certainly hadn’t learned any lessons.

Fuck that, I snapped. Anyone not previously paying attention to our conversation now stopped and turned to watch. No. We’re not doing that. We’re sticking to standard ATF protocol and we’re doing our jobs the way ATF has always done them. The way we’re supposed to do them. I turned to Greg and a few others. Stop what you’re doing right now and go talk to that dealer. I could not give a damn about Fast and Furious at this point. I refused to give into this nonsense. We would follow up on our case; it was our job.

Fast and Furious was already on a downward spiral and there are consequences for everything at some point.

CHAPTER 1

NEW BEGINNINGS

I was sworn in as an ATF Special Agent at Six World Trade Center on June 4, 2001. I’d been craving some kind of change for a while and the transition from long-time NYPD detective to ATF agent was as smooth as can be. I told my boss, a veteran group supervisor named Gerry Raffa, about a case I’d started right before leaving the NYPD, involving a fugitive named Jose Maracayo, a suspect in a series of armed home invasion robberies. The Southern District of New York (SDNY), with whom I’d been collaborating for a while, wanted me to keep working the case with them, but I hadn’t gone through the ATF academy yet. Not to mention, my division had placed me on an arson group.

It floored me when Gerry looked at me and said, Fuck yeah, keep doing what you’re doing with that case, Pete.

And there, my long journey working for the federal government within ATF—the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms—began. What a ride it would turn out to be.

Mid-February of 2007, an arctic front and low air pressure in Canada and the Rockies brought an intense winter storm that fell across most of the eastern half of the U.S. and Canada, as well as sleet and snow that hammered the upper East Coast. As I grunted, shoveling a driveway buried in snow heavy as cement, I prayed it would be the last time I’d ever have to do this.

With the driveway sufficiently cleared, I got in my car and pulled it out onto the snow-covered street, delivering it to the driver of a car carrier, who would be transporting it across the country. There we would be reunited under what we hoped would be a sunny sky. A cab followed a few minutes later, and my whole family slid inside—my wife, son, and daughter—huddling together for warmth on the ride to Newark Airport. As we said goodbye to Central New Jersey, my kids’ excitement filled the car like the impending Arizona heat. Both the desert and the outdoor activities like hiking and exploring the state’s vast parklands accompanying that new wilderness appealed to the two of them. I tried to match their enthusiasm, but it wavered. My cross-country replanting came from a job change. For me, added responsibilities and integration into an entirely new team and culture waited on the other side.

Moving down the jetway to board the Continental Airlines flight from Newark to Phoenix two hours later, my mind raced. I knew the move would probably be a good thing, but I also knew it would be challenging. Spending the previous twenty-two years as an investigator and a cop, I’d really only been responsible for myself and my own cases. Anything beyond that fell to the boss. From now on, that would be me. This, despite years swearing I’d never take a supervisory role. Honestly, the concept had never really appealed to me.

I loved the thrill of the chase. The challenge that putting the puzzle pieces together offered me as an investigator. It gave me satisfaction, knowing I did my job well and with integrity in a system often regarded as self-serving or corrupt. Overall, as a career, I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I’d made a name for myself doing it.

In the last couple years, though, it became clear I needed a change, so I applied for group supervisor positions in Jacksonville, Savannah, Dallas, and Phoenix. Months later, I finally got the news. Jim Needles, the Assistant Special Agent in Charge (ASAC) of the New York Field Division where I worked, called me as I pulled into my driveway one night.

Congratulations, Pete. You’ve been selected for the Group Supervisor position in Phoenix I.

Shutting my phone off, I walked inside the house and told my wife we were moving to Phoenix, which is how I now found myself shuffling down a carpeted airplane aisle, squeezing between seats and elbows with a roller bag and a bunch of nerves about what was to come. Once my wife and kids were situated, I sank into my seat. Then I spent the entire five-hour flight fretting about my decision to take such a drastic turn while reminding myself that I didn’t really have much of a choice.

Shortly after I’d first switched to ATF and given up the detective life, everything changed. On September 11, 2001, while in my car on the way to the SDNY’s offices in New York City to work on the Maracayo case, my boss called me.

Pete, head directly to the Twin Towers! The North Tower was hit by a plane!

An American Airlines Boeing 767 had slammed into the World Trade Center’s North Tower on the north-facing side. Less than a mile away on FDR Drive and surrounded by skyscrapers, I couldn’t see the damage, but I immediately swung the car in that direction, arriving at Ground Zero within minutes. Throwing open the door, I sprang into emergency mode.

I was helping evacuate people from the plaza between the towers when an intense roar shook even the air around me and heat struck my neck and face, rolling down my body. Dust and debris drifted to the ground. A second plane had just struck the South Tower several dozen stories above my head.

As I remained at the scene, I continued aiding the firemen and Twin Tower occupants any way I could, uncertain if my efforts helped much or not. After a taxing hour in the heat and dust, I ended up on the east side of the area, trying to catch my breath near the Century 21 discount clothing store, just across the street from the South Tower. Within minutes, there was a rumbling sounded from above and, as I looked up, the South Tower began to crumble and cave in on itself. I dove under a nearby firetruck for cover, but gritty clouds of dust hit my face, choking me and scratching at my eyes. It became nearly impossible to breathe, and it struck me that I’d probably suffocate if I stayed in place. I wasn’t willing to die alone under that truck. Rolling out from under the truck, I ran hard, heading north, finding refuge in a building on Church Street. Then I waited.

When the dust settled, I ventured back out to help rescue the remaining survivors, but there really wasn’t anyone to rescue. I helped one man to a water fountain so he could rinse his eyes, but others either walked away, or were crushed in the collapse. I ended up staying on the scene for three days before going home, then returned several days a week as part of the recovery effort. I lost six friends that day. It didn’t take long before survivor’s guilt began sneaking in, feeling heavier and heavier over time.

Three years later in 2004, the Maracayo case I’d brought from the NYPD to ATF came to a close. Jose Maracayo took his very first proffer early on (where defendants provide substantial assistance by offering information about criminal activity in exchange for less time or no time) and let nearly twenty of his associates be charged collectively with a host of things he’d been involved in. In the end, we would have plea bargains from twenty-two co-defendants in nearly 145 home invasion robberies and six drug related murders. After that case wrapped up, ATF transferred me to another group in New York City, focusing on violent crime. My first case there started right away: Operation Stadium Shadow, involving a drug gang that had taken over several housing projects around Courtlandt Avenue, a particularly violent neighborhood in the South Bronx.

With this new job, my commutes both offices, the SDNY building in New York City and ATF’s offices in Red Hook, took me past Ground Zero most days. Not long into the transition, both drives started catching up to me. Each month, it became increasingly difficult to be in that area. I didn’t want to admit it, but the stress of reentering the zone brought on cold sweats and a constant sense of dread and I found myself getting choked up, making