Me with portable signal detection apparatus strapped across my chest
People of my generation grew up watching westerns and movies about the greatest generation. I was especially drawn to the old black and white movies made about the allies working behind the lines. Usually these movies involved downed RAF pilots or British spies working with the French or Norwegian resistance; or, American guerrillas working with the natives on a Japanese-held island. Invariably, a bulky transmitter was used to communicate with an intelligence officer sitting in a secret base in England or the skipper of a submarine sitting on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
The Nazi or Japanese soldiers hunting the allied operatives used signal intercept technology to triangulate the signal being transmitted by the allied hero. Generally, this was depicted by panel trucks with a ring-like-antennae mounted on top of the vehicle spinning slowly as the trucks lurked somewhere in the area, trying to locate the source of the transmitter. Meanwhile an intelligence officer back at the base would plot the direction of the signal reported by each truck on a transparent map etched on a glass board by drawing a line on the map. The intelligence officer would then direct a platoon of enemy soldiers riding in a troop transport truck to the vicinity where the lines intersected. The allied agent usually timed his or her transmissions, keeping them short to deny the enemy time to triangulate the signal. With few exceptions, the enemy was invariably just one step away and the allied hero got away clean. After forty-five years, despite improvements in technology and techniques, the methodology pretty much hadn’t changed.
Cellphone technology and the vast infrastructure needed to support it was still in its infancy. Pablo Escobar and his cohorts used portable radio telephones to communicate with each other. Unlike the allies working behind the lines that relied on a bulky transmitter that had to be stationary to operate, the Medellin cartel players could jump in a cab and move about when making their calls, complicating the matter.
The basic difference in the methodology used by the United States to triangulate the source of the cartel’s radio telephones varied very little from the methods used by the bad guys in the old war movies. Instead of the panel trucks with a ring-like-antennae used by the bad guys, the U.S. used a common civilian aircraft to circle over the greater Medellin area to triangulate the signal. That may be oversimplifying it, but basically that was it. It’s a tried and true method using modern technological advances like computers, improving the accuracy. However, like the old war movies, the prey almost invariably got away.
It’s easy for those that weren’t there to blame the Colombian National Police for failing to move fast enough to take advantage of the information on the location of the prey. The residents in the barrios Escobar’s sicarios were hiding in were hostile to the police. There wasn’t anywhere in the greater Medellin metropolitan area that Escobar didn’t command the collaboration of the people, either through loyalty or intimidation. Because of the hostile environment, the Élite Corps was holed-up at the Carlos Holguin school like the U.S. cavalry at Fort Apache, denying them the ability to respond quickly. The troops, who were transported in large military-style trucks to the target area were easy to see coming a long way off.
When possible, the police used helicopters to deploy a small force to the target area. As you probably surmised, that made them even easier to spot. An advance team with a hand-held direction finder to zero-in on the signal was often sent into the area before the troops got there. I went out on some of those missions to operate the detection equipment.
On one occasion I recall, I went out in advance of the troops to try and pinpoint the location of Pablo’s most notorious killer, John Jairo Velásquez, alias “Popeye”. I rode in the back seat of an unescorted canvas-covered jeep-like vehicle, deep into an Escobar-friendly housing project he built. I had been given an impromptu lesson on using the radio detection equipment. As I recall, the antennae had two options: one to home in on the signal, and another to listen in on the conversation. According to the Delta Force communications specialist that checked me out on the equipment, if I chose to listen to the caller’s voice, it would sound a lot like Mickey Mouse talking. Since there weren’t a whole lot of people using radio telephones, I should presume the “rat” I was listening to was Popeye.
The troops held their position outside of the projects, waiting for us to pinpoint a building they could search. By the time we got to the area, Popeye must have stopped talking on the radio telephone, as was their practice to keep conversations short. We hovered around the neighborhood for quite some time, hoping that he would make another call. We had to be conspicuous to the people living in those barrios, driving slowly in a vehicle that looked out-of-place. We got long, hard looks from some while others turned their backs on us as we drove by them. I don’t doubt that a few calls were made concerning our presence. We abandoned the mission after it became clear that staying any longer could have a disastrous result.
On another occasion I recall, I went out with a police major leading a rapid deployment force in a Bell 212 helicopter (like the ones in the Vietnam war movies) to a remote location in the jungle near a finca (country home) where Pablo was heard on a radio telephone (See photo). As I explained previously, Escobar had prearranged escape routes set up for situations just like the one we were in to evade capture. The small contingent of troops accompanying us hunkered down after the helicopters dropped us off and waited while I scanned the area for a signal. We meandered through the jungle for a while, eventually calling the search off when it was decided that Pablo spotted or heard the helicopters coming and either stopped transmitting or left the finca. The larger force arrived later and searched the finca with negative results.
Ultimately, it was simple signal intercept technology that spelled the end of Pablo Escobar on that clay tile roof in El Poblado on December 2, 1993. He had violated the principal of keeping conversations short and was located by Lieutenant Hugo Martínez, Colonel Martínez’ son, using a hand-held radio signal detector like the one I was using.
Besides the hand-held signal detection equipment, the communications personnel based at the school had some pretty interesting equipment to carry out their mission. I won’t go into any detail as to what that equipment was, even though it is probably outdated or has been upgraded since then. It would be imprudent to discuss any of the methods or techniques the team used. Suffice it to say, it was some pretty high-speed stuff for the time.
Changes in personnel assigned to the multi-service, multi-agency communications team and the sensitive equipment they often brought with them were transported to the Rio Negro airport by a civilian aircraft contracted by the agency. The SEALS and the Delta Force guys as well as their equipment were delivered to the far end of the tarmac as far away from curious eyes as possible. Since the ambassador had denied any American other than Javier and myself to set foot outside of the police school and since the school was so far removed from the Rio Negro airport, it was necessary to transport changes in personnel via a Hughes OH-6 “Loach” (like the one used in Magnum P.I. TV series). Because the Loach is a small helicopter with a tiny cargo hold, it was necessary to transport the highly sensitive equipment overland.
Javier or I would go with a CNP team assigned transport duties to the end of the tarmac to collect the equipment in two Jeep Monteros. Most of the SEALS or Delta Force guys had been briefed about the procedure and didn’t hesitate relinquishing custody of the equipment to me. Most Colombians don’t speak English and we had to communicate with them in Spanish. I recall one instance when a Delta Force sergeant from Fort Worth was hesitant to release his gear, believing I was an uncleared Colombian. I had to speak in plain “Texan” to reassure him that I was an American agent with higher than just a top secret clearance.
The communications specialist operating at the school were highly-trained, highly professional soldiers and sailors accustomed to a more hands-on approach than they were allowed by the rules of engagement delineated by the ambassador. They were often impatient or did not understand the reality the Colombian National Police were all too familiar with working in Medellin. Javier and I had to often temper the frustration the com guys were experiencing to keep them from doing anything rash that would upset our welcome at the base.
The same was true with the Colombians. Many were suspicious of the American military contingent at the school and refused to talk to them directly. It upset the officers working the intelligence side of the operation to learn that the embassy was being routinely briefed about who they captured before they had a chance to brief their own headquarters in Bogota. In Colombia, need-to-know is handled from the top down and it upset the Colombian officers at the school to learn that the Ambassador knew about operations in Medellin before the Director of the National Police did. Javier and I found ourselves walking a tight wire between the two camps acting as go-betweens to placate any doubts one side had of the other.
As I have heard Javier often say, “We did what we had to do”.
