TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/022089/02208900.051

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 5.5 KB | 107 lines

                                                                                AMERICAN SCENE, Page 18

Gulf Coast Wetlands, Texas

Wildlife Cops On a Bust


Covert operations defend waterfowl and other wildlife

By Eugene Linden


    It's always a tense moment when Rick Leach breaks the news
to a suspect that he is not a buddy but rather an undercover
federal agent. The people whom the dark-haired, soft-spoken cop
arrests are usually armed, and some take the news badly: at
different times, men have tried to choke or shoot the agent.
And so Leach is cautious as he pulls his rented Taurus into the
driveway of the Friermood hunting lodge in the midst of Texas'
vast Gulf Coast wetlands one clear morning this winter. Only
two weeks earlier, Leach went duck hunting with a guide from
the Friermood lodge, trading lies, and now he is returning as
part of a 100-agent task force that will arrest 23 hunting
guides and lodge owners scattered along the Texas coast for
violation of federal wildlife statutes.

    Leach is one of nine full-time undercover wildlife cops
working for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's Special
Operations branch. At any given time, an undercover agent might
simultaneously maintain three identities in efforts to deter
the illegal killing or trafficking in wildlife. While the $130
million illegal-wildlife market pales in comparison with the
billions Americans spend on drugs, undercover wildlife cops
find themselves in equally exotic situations. Undercover stings
have infiltrated a smuggling ring that exported falcons to
Saudi royalty; a backwoods guide service that killed black bears
for their gall bladders, which were then exported to Japan as
aphrodisiacs; and a renegade group of Native Americans who
illegally trafficked in eagle feathers. This winter's major
bust, called "the Texas Waterfowl Operation," climaxed a
three-year investigation that exposed rampant disregard for laws
governing the hunting of ducks and geese.

    Special Ops, directed by John Gavitt, a former field agent,
was set up ten years ago in response to increasing illegal
hunting and trafficking in wildlife. Leach, who headed the
covert branch for four years before going back into the field,
came to wildlife enforcement after a stint as an undercover
narcotics agent. An environmentalist, he says, "I didn't want to
spend the rest of my life doing drug buys." While wildlife work
might seem more tranquil than the murderous world of drugs,
Leach says wildlife cops often find themselves in the
backcountry on their own, while during undercover drug buys,
"you generally have lots of backup if things go wrong."

    Agents follow common-sense rules. They choose covers as
close to the truth as possible. In one case, Leach assumed the
role of a dealer in deer and other exotic meats. When he and
fellow agents busted his principal supplier, the man grabbed
his pistol, and Leach found himself wrestling the gun away from
his head.

    Special Ops took on the Texas operation because waterfowl
numbers have been plummeting in the face of droughts, habitat
loss and illegal hunting and because a preliminary investigation
uncovered widespread flouting of the wildlife laws. Leach and
other investigators simply masqueraded as duck hunters. Of the
42 hunting clubs visited, an astonishing 41 violated basic
waterfowl- protection laws. In the course of the operation,
agents regularly documented egregious violations. At one posh
club, for instance, an undercover agent was asked by
unsuspecting guides to videotape a hunt during which 13 hunters
slaughtered 204 birds (139 over the limit for that group). When a
guide yelled to spook hundreds of geese clumped together in a
pond, hunters fired blindly into the rising cloud of birds.
After the fusillade, the water was littered with dead and
wounded snow geese.

    At the Friermood lodge, the critical moment comes when
federal agents converge on a confused Blaien Friermood as he
turns his truck into the driveway. While one agent tells the
lodge owner that he is to be arrested, another casually
positions herself between Friermood and the hunters so that no
one gets the idea of handing him a weapon. Before being led
away, Friermood explains to the hunters that one of his guides
has been caught violating the law by an undercover agent. One
hunter remarks nervously, "If I were Blaien, I'd get after the
guide that got him in trouble." Hearing this, Leach tells them,
"Blaien's got his own problems," and notes that this is only
part of a big federal bust. Ray Brite, a U.S. deputy marshal,
eases the tension by telling awful jokes.

    With Friermood safely packed off to Houston for arraignment
on misdemeanor and felony charges, Leach heads down the road to
check on another bust before returning to Houston to face the
mountain of paperwork that accompanies an operation of this
magnitude. Leach, Gavitt and the other agents gravitate to
their jobs because of the sense of accomplishment they get from
protecting America's vanishing wildlife. "I used to feel
uncomfortable about making friends with people and busting
them, but I'm not out to cause people trouble; I'm here to
protect wildlife," says Leach. Gavitt notes that many people
doing the most damage to wildlife use sophisticated scams, not
easily investigated by overt means. In these cases, says
Gavitt, "covert operations not only bring such violators to
justice but have a ripple effect. Commercial duck-hunting
guides, for instance, will now think twice before breaking the
law."