El Mayo Zambada's bad night

He felt the Army close, "right over my head" Said el Mayo , but was able to flee.

That dusky afternoon Ismael Zambada Garcia was more restless than usual. His instinct as a man of the mountains notified him that things didn't look so good in the southern hill of Culiacán.

The guards passed him reports that was repetitive in the last couple days, mobilized Army was traveling through the zone. The soldiers installed camps through the helicopters that carried them and supplies.

"Choppers are very active", his people reported to him. "stay focused and ready", he ordered them.

The noise of the military helicopters arrived occasionally to the refuge. El Mayo Zambada's senses intensified when the silence permitted it, some nearby sounds caused him to know that things didn't look well.

And as the ridge began to darkened they received a radio notice that soldiers were near the den. "Leave, they're on you".

Some how, the troops approach el Mayo. Mocking the multiple circles of security that spread around the boss. In highways, roads, paths, hills and thickets were men "sow" themselves, some armed, others disguising them self with the environment. Watching the vanguard and the rearguard of the leader of Sinaloa's cartel.

With little time to decide the elusion, they started hearing the motor of helicopters. They were on their trail in the dark of night, disembarking a commando of masked military men. The branches of trees and abundant bushes protected them. Mayo with three of his bodyguards walked in the half-light, a reflection of survival told him to walk toward the shadows where it was darker.

Feeling the boots of the soldiers stepping their heels. The shouts of "¡There they are, there they go!" and the deafening crash of the propellers breaking the wind. It opted for running while taking cover, grasping the land and seeking that nothing betrayed him, not even the creak of branches.

Immediately after half an hour of running for the hills, the calm arrived. The stealth continued for two or three hours more. Walking on rocks, shrubs and avoiding the branches of mesquites. Not saying one word that could betray them before the almost sure presence of soldiers in the area.

Without knowing where they're going or where they're at, they kept moving to a fast pace. Already without gas the only compass they carried was the foreboding that continued their control to move on and aware that some of the gunmen knew of the situation, were already seeking to find them.

Mayo ordered to turn off the radios and to put the cell phones on vibrate, but without answering the calls. They spoke in a low voice and codes, was the necessary thing for transmitting vital instructions for them.

Directing that he desired going to the height of a community whose name he mentioned. "There we got people that will help us escape". They didn't know the exact place of the location. Almost midnight, they saw the lights of a town. "Lets go there to seek someone that will guide us", they agreed.

While seeking out a man that knew the sierra like the palm of his hands. They found him not to old to bear the walk but not to young either, someone that knew the exact route to escape. "Get us out of here how ever you can and we're going to correspond very well", they told him.

They walked without stopping while the Army of personal security for el Mayo organized the search, inch by inch on the outsides of Culiacán bordering with Cosalá. His top gunmen had already ruled out that soldiers had captured their leader. Also Vicente Zambada Niebla, El Vicentillo, position an up to date with the circumstance in which his father was found. Placed himself in the front of operation to locate him.

Just as el Mayo came upon jumping streams, climbing up and down hills. El Vicentillo asked himself, did they go south of Culiacán? What had failed with the contacts in the Army, Police and the widespread of guards by routes and key points close to the den.

"What a way to begin the year", acknowledge the leader of the Sinaloa cartel, recalling the beginning of 2009.

It was already seven in the morning of the following day when they spotted the population where they wanted to arrive. Their spirit changed, they felt insurance and although the cellphones didn't have a signal by radio they began speaking to their gunmen and family. "We are well, they're coming for us". As for the guide they thanked him and offered to seek him out, to reward him for his service. "Who serves el Mayo gets rich", one of the bodyguard commented him.

And yes, el Mayo escaped from being captured by the Army's Elite Forces sent directly from the Office of the secretary for the National Defense. They would find out later, that the guide received a gift of fortunes.

To this, Ismael Zambada refers it in the encounter that he maintained with the journalist Julio Scherer, in which gives account the magazine Process in its edition 1744:

—¿Have you felt the Army close? —Four times, el chapo more.

—¿Really close? —Up, over my head. I fled for the hills, the one where I know the branches, the streams, the stones, everything. They get me if I stay still or become careless, As for el chapo, if we meet today, I come from far and as soon as we finish, I leave.


S ource: http://www.riodoce.com.mx/content/view/4818/2/