"Why, why did
you kill him?" a traumatized Vanessa Guerena begged to know as
she was interrogated in a makeshift "command center" by detectives
from the same Sheriff's Office that had just slaughtered her husband
Jose. Her questioners, eager to exploit her trauma to extract information,
initially refused to give her a straightforward answer.
Jose, who had
finished a graveyard shift at the Asarco copper mine, was sleeping
when a SWAT team from the Pima County Sheriff's Office laid siege
to his home on the morning of May 5. Vanessa was doing laundry,
and the couple's four-year-old son Joel was watching Transformers,
when the SWAT raiders pulled up in a Bear Cat armored vehicle.
The siren sounded
for less than ten seconds; just a few seconds later, the order to
"breach" the door was given because, as on-scene commander Deputy
Bob Krygier later explained, nobody inside the house had "submitted
to our authority."
Vanessa initially
thought that there was an emergency "somewhere in the neighborhood,"
and called the police. When she saw armed intruders on her property,
Vanessa screamed for her husband to wake up. Jose told Vanessa to
take their younger son (whose older brother, Jose, Jr., was in school)
and hide in the closet, while he went to confront the invaders.
Seconds later,
Jose was sprawled face-first in a pool of his own blood, shredded
by dozens of rounds fired by the SWAT team. That's how his four-year-old
son would later find him. Joel was left alone after Vanessa, who
had gone out to plead for someone to get medical help for her husband,
was assaulted and brutalized by the SWAT operators and then detained
for questioning. The child remained alone in the house with the
body of his dead father while Krygier developed a "tactical team"
to extract the child at minimal risk. That is, minimal risk to the
berserkers who had just killed Joel's dad.
As the minutes
dragged on, one of the SWAT operators – according
to
Krygier – grew impatient over being forbidden to enter the home.
"Might as well
finish what I started," groused the armored assailant. I suspect
he wasn't referring to the need to render timely medical aid, unless
he intended to administer "one behind the ear" as a form of Kevorkian-style
treatment.
Krygier and
his little band of heroes were decked out in full SWAT regalia –
"I had my body armor on, a duty belt with a side holster,
a ballistic helmet, clear sunglasses, [and] a handgun," he later
reported. Yet the paramount consideration of "officer safety" prevented
SWAT team members from rescuing Joel in a timely fashion, or even
confirming first-hand that Jose was dead. Rather than rendering
aid, or permitting the paramedics to treat Jose, the SWAT team –
bold, valiant badasses, every one of them – huddled in the Bear
Cat and sent in a robot to poke and nudge the victim to make sure
he was dead.
Despite the
fact that one member of the squad, Deputy
Jay Korza, is a medic, nobody went into the house and "physically"
confirmed Jose's death, Krygier later explained to detectives. Instead,
a call was placed to "our SWAT doctor, Dr. [Tammy] Kastre ... [who]
pronounced him dead in the way that doctors do."
This indifferent
and perfunctory confirmation was an appropriate coda to a SWAT assault
that began with an entirely spurious search warrant. Michael Storie,
the police union attorney representing Jose Guerena's killers, has
admitted that neither Jose nor his home was specifically mentioned
in the warrant, which was served as part of a "complex investigation"
into an alleged marijuana smuggling and home invasion robbery ring.
Three other
homes were hit the same morning that the SWAT team gunned down Jose
Guerena. But his was the only home devoid of anything resembling
evidence in a criminal investigation. Thus it is remarkable that
Jose, according to Krygier, was considered "the main bad guy" in
this purported criminal syndicate, which was supposedly "hiring
out to do rip crews – to steal other people's marijuana and perform
home invasions."
Assuming that
gang actually exists, it would best be described as a private SWAT
team, given that it would be carrying out exactly the same kinds
of missions conducted every day by tactical police units in the
"war on drugs." This would mean that the May 5 SWAT raids weren't
so much a law enforcement exercise as a
turf war between rival criminal gangs.
Distant relatives
of the Guerena family were killed in a home invasion robbery about
a year ago; that fact was described by Krygier as a "connection"
to a "double homicide." Other relatives are allegedly involved in
narcotics trafficking, but Guerena himself has no criminal record.
The former Marine worked long shifts on a predictable schedule at
the local mine.
If Guerena
was involved in criminal activity, a low-key arrest was eminently
feasible, as was a conventional search of the home. But that's not
how things are done in the American Reich. It's far more convenient
– and, one supposes, a lot more fun – for the police to employ what
will someday be known as the Jose Guerena Model: Lay siege to the
home with a paramilitary death squad, gun down the suspect, and
then interrogate his terrorized wife.
When the questioning
began, Vanessa thought Jose might still be alive. She still harbored
a faint, fugitive hope that the armed strangers who had invaded
her home had taken her husband to the hospital. It wasn't until
the detectives had begun the interrogation that she was able to
learn that Jose had died.
As the numbness
of pure horror began to wear off, the newly minted 26-year-old widow
started to feel the effects of injuries sustained when she had been
roughly seized from her home, thrown to the ground, stepped on,
and otherwise "treated like a criminal" by the death squad that
had just poured at least twenty rounds into her husband. That treatment
continued – albeit in a more subtle fashion – after she was placed
in the custody of the detectives.
"You're not
allowed to leave," explained Detective Dan Preuss, who insisted
that this "doesn't mean you're under arrest." That was a lie, of
course: Any time a police officer presumes to detain a citizen,
the detainee is under arrest. That Preuss was deceiving Vanessa
about this – as
he was trained to – is demonstrated by the fact that he and
his comrades took several minutes to Mirandize Vanessa in both English
and Spanish.
"We don't
trap you in a room and say, `talk to us,'" Preuss assured Vanessa
as he and his colleagues did precisely that. As Preuss worked to
extract information from Vanessa that could potentially have been
used to incriminate her, the detective repeatedly told the horrified
young woman that her questions would be answered in due time. But
the only question to which she wanted an answer was the one she
asked immediately after the raid: "What
were you guys thinking?"
A few minutes
after the questioning began, Vanessa asked the detectives why there
had been a search warrant for her family's home. In a moment of
depraved creativity, one of them insisted that "I can't answer your
questions" because at that point Vanessa hadn't been Mirandized
– an answer demonstrating, once again, that the young wife and mother,
whose husband had just been killed while defending his family, was
being treated as a criminal suspect.
"Is there anything
in the house the police would be looking for?" pried Detective Preuss,
who wouldn't have had to ask that open-ended question if he and
his comrades were enforcing a constitutionally valid warrant.
"Now, be honest with me ... we're gonna go in there.... Is there
anything illegal in the house?.... Is there anything in those rooms
that would be illegal? Drugs, guns? Monies?"
"These are
important questions, 'cause obviously we're gonna find out one way
or another," Preuss continued. "We also need to have information
about ... people that you know, okay?.... Do you know if Jose was
involved in any activity? Even if he's trying to make some money
for you guys, so you can live good."
Vanessa, who
had neither the time nor the presence of mind to contact a lawyer,
replied that Jose was "working very hard" at the mine, that they
had just bought the house and were doing everything they could to
save money. This included taking the time to make home-made pinatas
for their son's birthday party, as well as painting and refurbishing
their fixer-upper house themselves, rather than hiring others to
help.
Preuss seemed
to think that all of this was an elaborate plot to disguise Jose's
life as a lieutenant in a narcotics cartel. His questions suggested
that the young father's home improvements included "secret compartments,"
"secret doors," and other hiding places for drugs, guns, and money.
He also insisted on batting away a statement that Vanessa made that
an honest investigator really should examine more carefully.
When asked
about the AR 15 Jose reportedly brandished to defend his home from
the SWAT team, Vanessa stated – more than once – that she "didn't
see a weapon" in Jose's hands, and referred to the rifle found near
his body as "the weapon that was thrown right there."
"Nobody planted
a gun," insisted Preuss. How did he know this? Weren't Preuss and
his associates supposed to ask questions, rather than provide the
answers?
In all likelihood,
the gun belonged to Jose, who had every right to use lethal force
to repel lawless aggression against his home. However, it should
be remembered that the Regime's home invasion squads – both domestic
SWAT teams and their equivalents
deployed in Iraq and elsewhere
– are known to carry "drop
guns" for the purpose of framing victims as "insurgents."
Jason
Moon, who served U.S. Army in Iraq, testifies that a sergeant
told his troops that "The difference between an insurgent and an
Iraqi civilian is whether they are dead or alive." For the benefit
of those for whom that comment is too opaque, Moon explains: "If
you kill a civilian he becomes an insurgent because you retroactively
make that person a threat."
Why
was the safety was still on when the AR 15 was found next to Jose,
who was a Marine combat veteran? The "drop gun" scenario – in which
the raiders either supplied a gun, or found one belonging to Jose
and placed it next to his body, could provide an explanation. While
this explanation may seem unlikely, it is quite a bit more plausible
than the one suggested by Preuss, in which a young father who worked
overtime at a local mine and made pinatas by hand to save money
was actually a secret drug kingpin whose home was honeycombed with
secret caches laden with guns and cash.
The possible
existence of a "drop gun," while potentially quite significant,
is not critical. The purpose of planting a gun is to provide an
ex post facto rationale for an officially sanctioned home
invasion that ends in a homicide. The people responsible for the
murder of Jose Guerena appear to be perfectly capable of retconning
this atrocity without the help of hardware.