Martin Suarez’s Struggles Against the North Coast Cartel
In August 1994, Martin Suarez was out for a morning run in his Puerto Rican gated community when he encountered a life-threatening situation.
“Don’t run, mother fuchel,” someone yelled at him. Reflecting on the moment in his new book, “Inside the Cartel,” Suarez was keenly aware that this was not a typical encounter. The individual brandishing a gun was ready to kill him right at his doorstep, leaving his wife and two young sons unprotected.
Suarez recognized the man behind the hit as El Toro Negro, the ruthless leader of the North Coast cartel who had previously sent him a chilling warning.
Having infiltrated the Medellin and Carri cartels since 1988, Suarez, an FBI agent for 23 years, was no stranger to facing down Colombian drug traffickers and violent criminals. He had once taken on the persona of “Manny,” a smuggler involved in moving an estimated $1 billion worth of cocaine, all of which was ultimately seized by the FBI.
“I’ve never reached the streets with this drug,” he stated, noting that all payments made to him for cartel activities were returned to government funds, which ironically were financed by the cartel itself.
Suarez hadn’t initially planned to become the first FBI agent deeply embedded in the operations of Colombia’s most notorious drug cartel.
By the mid-1980s, the infamous Pablo Escobar had transformed the Medellin cartel into a powerful multinational entity, turning cocaine into a significant American import. His hometown, Miami, turned into a crucial entry point for cartel activities.
“As the drug war escalated, we realized that just arresting individuals or making small busts wasn’t going to be enough. The cartels were too wealthy; they could easily absorb losses,” Suarez recalled. “The FBI needed to infiltrate their operations.”
The FBI set up an office for Suarez on Miami’s South Side, disguised as a produce business, outwardly dealing in oranges and vegetables while secretly facilitating major investigations.
To convincingly portray “Manny,” Suarez had to embody the lifestyle of a smuggler. The FBI paired him with Diego, a former pilot for the Medellin cartel, who shared key cultural insights that could make or break his cover. For instance, successful smugglers used unique slang that differed vastly from typical English expressions.
Suarez made sure to dress the part as well. He filled his wardrobe with high-end European attire, developed a mustache, and acquired luxury accessories, even driving high-end cars like a Porsche and a Bentley.
With this carefully crafted image, he soon became indistinguishable from a real trafficker in the eyes of the cartel.
In fact, Suarez became so trusted that couriers regularly showed up at his door, with drug deals flowing smoothly. The setups often mirrored scenes from action movies. He used a discreet lobster boat stationed at specific coordinates off Cuba for his operations and deployed a smaller boat to fetch the shipments.
While the handoffs seemed simple in theory, they were far from it. The cartel dropped bundles of cocaine from planes, and retrieving these packages was a mad scramble filled with chaos.
There were moments of danger. Suarez once found himself at dinner with a known drug trafficker when he caught sight of federal agents surveilling them. He froze, acutely aware of the thin line between safety and exposure.
In August 1994, as the FBI concluded Operation Complete, Suarez discarded all evidence of his covert operations. However, danger still lurked. A hitman soon approached him, leading to a violent struggle where Suarez was shot, though the blood he felt was actually from his broken nose. The assassin managed to escape, but not without leaving a lasting impact on Suarez.
Despite the incident, Suarez later pursued charges against members of the North Coast cartel, including El Toro Negro, but the leader vanished, slipping into the depths of the Colombian underworld.
Suarez returned in 1996 and 1997, testifying as Martin Suarez rather than Manny. His appearance in court signaled trouble for the accused. “They couldn’t believe I was a federal agent,” he recalled.
Ultimately, the trial concluded with a conviction, and Suarez retired from the FBI in 2011, but one figure lingered in his mind: Toro. “He’s still out there. I suspect he hasn’t forgotten about me, and I worry he’s plotting his revenge,” he said.
