Hi all, I decided to start this story. Do give your feedbacks and inputs. I can edit into it.
Chapter 1
It wasn't always this way. For the first half of my life, I have been running someone else's race. Going to school, getting good grades, making it to Junior College, and I wasn't very good at it. I was someone else the government of Singapore wanted me to be; a product of the system. It seemed that if I wasn't good at Math and Science, I was stupid. In the end, I had to pursue an education in the United States.
September 2012, New York
The house party was typical; booze, college kids, underage college kids, and marijuana. Everything that I have questioned for the past 20 years of my life seemed to ended with my stay in the United States. The first time I did Marijuana in the United States, it made me question the morality my actions. The very line of right and wrong seemed to have blurred with the buzz of the THC, an active chemical in marijuana. I was well educated in Singapore; "say No to Drugs", say "No to underage sex", "Americans are too liberal", "Do not corrupt the Asian values". All these things were constantly reinforced by the Singapore government. Even in my time as a police officer, everything I learnt about drugs and narcotics was fed by the government.
Rewind back a few Months,
One day a friend visited from Los Angeles, a fellow Singaporean, Jay. He was on his Spring Break and decided to travel to the East Coast to visit. We drank, we talked, and then he brought up the topic on narcotics.
"Whoah Jay, you know it's wrong right. Marijuana, MDMA, what? You're scaring me right now."
"I knew you would say that L, but before you judge me, you should do your own research into it and determine which is right and wrong"
We went on talking, and after he left, I hit my computer. Research paper after research paper all the way into the morning. In a single night, I became an expert on marijuana, LSD, Cocaine, and MDMA. I immediately knew which were bad. Suddenly I felt I was lied to my entire life; I was taught that all drugs were addictive, causes mental problems, causes broken families etc etc. Right in front of my eyes were medical reports on the chemistry of marijuana and its actual recorded historical use that dated back to 1000BC. I began to formulate my own judgement to good and bad drugs as Jay suggested. Cocaine, Heroin, MDMA, Meth, they are all bad; I knew right from the research papers. One thing was clear: I had to get myself some Weed, and LSD, and I mean to try it.
At present, September 2012, New York.
All the months of partying, getting to know new people, building networks, exchanging contacts finally paid off. I was living the life. Here I was, at a party of college students from prestigious universities, and it was just one of the many parties I go to, and get invited to. It made me realize how hypocritical the whole world was. All we did the whole night was booze and getting stoned from marijuana. Addictive? Definitely not. You'll always hear someone having sex in the bathroom, or see a couple making out by the window. Cocaine, Marijuana, MDMA, name it. There'll always be somebody in the room who sells it. Ivy League university student by day, drug dealer by night, nothing new. The modulus operandi was always the same; sell to first hand contacts, exchange nothing more than your number, and name. Basic rule of thumb is: don't ask questions. The less you know, the better; just pay, Shut the fuck up, and enjoy.
"L, come meet my friend, David. David, L, L, David." Steven gestured with a Bud Light in his hand. Introduction was short, chill, and simple. David was a Korean American. A little taller than me, he wore a beanie, and had that typical swag about him when he talked. Smart dude, Economics major. We shook hands, made small talk. If there's one thing unique about David, it was that he was a drug dealer part time.
"Steven's been telling me all about you, how he gets his stuff from you. He shares it with me sometimes, but I pay him for a few grams of marijuana that he gets from you. Good stuff, the sativa buzz was light, and I didn't feel heavy from the indica cannabinoids."
"I'm glad you like it, L. You certainly know your stuff. Take my number xxxxxxxx, just let me know if you need more. You know I only sell to real enthusiasts who know the nitty gritty details of the bud, instead of wannabes who just want a smoke"
"Cool, thanks, you know what; Cheers. I'm actually looking for LSD, do you know where I can get some of those?"
"Try Silk Road"
Silk Road back then was the eBay and Amazon of the drug dealers. You use a secure program called TOR, log in, it directs you to an even deeper part of the web, and you key in the website Silk Road url and there you go. Money is exchanged through an online currency called Bitcoins which you have to pre-purchase beforehand. It's simple: you search your drug, see the dealers and their country of shipping (usually Canada), and then read the reviews and ratings about them from other buyers, and pay. Scammers and bad "products" are usually revealed through the reviews. You can buy anything you want on it, from Cocaine, to crystal Meth. Dealers receive their Bitcoins, they ship their product to you within 7 days in the most ingenious methods. It could be a bag of Godiva chocolates addressed to you as the "sweetheart", or a hollowed-out candle; it could be anything.
Continued
Chapter 3
Blueprints
To me, if there was any take home lesson from the previous drug busts that incarcerated and executed dealers, it would be the following:
1) Minimize all contact. Never meet a customer; he could be followed or he could be an agent of the law.
2) There was a need for an undetectable medium for package drop off and pick up for customer.
3) Leave no paper trail (credit cards, phone bills, bank statements)
4) Secure mode of payment
Being in the United States taught me a few things about old school drug dealers. First, nobody will approach you to sell and buy drugs unlike how movies portray it. That stereotype where there would be a Black dude with a beanie and a bling standing by a street corner who anyone could approach to buy drugs from simply does not exist. Second, it isn't difficult to work your way out from your inner circle of friends to their extended network to locate a dealer whom he also considers a "First Hand Contact."
The first time I bought my drugs from dealers, I did the exact same thing. I scanned my network, attended events and parties, profiled people who would most likely be involved or had contacts to Dealers. Was it difficult to profile people? No, the answer is No. In college, all you needed was to identify the dudes who walked into the lecture hall/event and had a few people from various cliques and social circles saying "Hi" or fist-bumped him. Take note who they are, find chances to sit next to them next and initiate conversation with a simple "Hi," play it cool, and back off. Every time you see the same person anywhere in school, go up say "Hi" and say "Catch you later," until one day he wants to talk. That was how I got initially invited to various parties and exposed myself to their networks.
If I could do this, so can undercover agents.
"No meeting customers," I told myself.
I needed a platform like Silk Road under a secure network like TOR Onion to mask myself and my customers. TOR essentially bounces your IP and servers off almost every worldwide server at random making it a nightmare for security agencies to track you down. It would be ideal for every one. The thing is: I'm a science major, not an IT expert. I needed a partnership; a partner who could manage such a system and website under TOR Onion, and I needed to make his time worthwhile. Secondly, I needed that partner, whom I know and trust, to stay in the US for me to funnel money to and fro, and more importantly, away from Singapore where there was little room to hide.
"Coby's brother, Phillip Kyung." That was the first name that came to mind. IT major, and the only one I know who wasn't afraid of breaking the law, and most importantly, meticulous.
That's the thing about doing crime; it has no room for mistakes. The police have thousands of people cracking their heads trying to piece a case against you, while you are one man. People who got busted always made a mistake somehow. They were careless. Either they met an agent who followed the drug and money trail, or they were betrayed by someone who got caught. In Singapore, the Police and CNB always never declare in the papers how they busted the Dealer, but if you sit down and think about it, it will not take long to realize that all they needed was to catch one customer for Possession, make him cry in the interrogation room, strike him a deal of co-operation, and make him reveal the contacts/networks, then trace the phone numbers and stake out patiently while figuring out where the Dealer hides his stash and cash. "Be smarter than the police, and you will live one more day," a philosophy I held all the way especially in Singapore.
No meeting customers, no first hand contacts, I told myself repeatedly. The difference between me and the busted dealers? I'm smarter than the Police.
Things were getting serious. There was a plan; it was to utilize TOR Onion's deep web to set up a market place where I could receive orders, money, and showcase my products without detection from law enforcement agencies. My plan was to have my partner run the whole operation here from the United States, while I stationed myself in Singapore to ship the goods domestically to customers in covert ways through the mail. That way, even if CNB and CID wanted to trace any IP, it wouldn't be possible. My partner will be running it overseas, bouncing the IP from server to server. CNB and CID would then engage Interpol, after determining it came from an overseas address. Even so, it would take a long time to even figure out where it was coming from.
Failing to plan was planning to fail. To beat the cops, I would have to think like a cop.
My operation was based on a single assumption on where CNB, CID, and Interpol would start looking. The way I saw it, CNB, CID, and Interpol would access TOR Onion like any user. They would see our username, and track where was this IP and server coming from. I called this Channel 1, and this would be where I would be sending them on a wild goose chase. Based on this, it wouldn't take long for CNB and CID to realize that there had to be a local contact (me) doing the shipping.
CNB, and CID, has no lack of experience catching drug dealers. But their very pride would be their downfall. So far, all the drug busts that they pride themselves over in the newspapers involved a dumb dealer with the standard old school drop off, pick up, and money exchange tactics. "So crass.. so unrefined.." Shaking my head. Never have they encountered someone who was educated, who would blatantly ship drugs over SingPost domestically in the guise of gifts, vouchers, advertisements, books, pamphlets, and greeting cards. All I needed was to slot Blotting Paper into one of those, stick a stamp, and drop it off in the mail. There are thousands of Posting Boxes all over the country, I would love to see them stake every one of them out. Since LSD is odorless, and colorless, they would have to open every single mail just to find my LSD Blotted Paper, and face national outrage. The more I planned, the more the excitement I felt. I could beat the whole system and tear their pride down. I was the master criminal..
I drew three lines on a paper parallel to each other. One line represented the order channel from Singapore to my partner, the second represented my communications channel to him. The third represented the money trail. All three lines had to run separately, and simultaneously. At that point in time, I haven't gotten it figured out. I needed to talk to Phillip Kyung.
Insomnia
My table was a complete mess. There were notes, RedBull cans, and books everywhere. Even my trash bin was surrounded by pizza boxes and sandwich wraps. Since the Finals, I never got down to cleaning my apartment. That thursday night I was swarmed with emotions. My gut was constricted, my head was buzzing from the Headband strain I just smoked.
"Too heavy on the Indica," as I got up from the couch. Simply put, I was high. My plans were not complete; there were tons of loopholes that could be easily exploited by security departments.
I logged on to Silk Road again, BlueViolet99 had replied, and was currently online.
" US$6000 for 45ml. You get as much as I can fit into the bottle. I will come down to NYC. Cash only "
Huh, how did he.. Right.. He knew my address, and knew I was in NYC. As expected of a Dealer cum Chemist, he kept a record of his dealings; a tactic I found most useful much later on.
Wait a second, that would mean US$6.66 a hit for a total of 900 hits, working on a 20 drop per mL assumption. Supposing I sold at $40 SGD per hit, I could be making $36000 SGD. Hell yea, I was in.
"Deal is good, thanks a lot. Where and when do we meet?"
"Soon. I will instruct via mail after you send me a copy of your State ID as insurance. Email it to 12cv99@mallinator com or deal is off"
Shit just got real; I drew back and sank into my chair. Should I, should I not? State ID? I only have a Singapore Passport. But it looks like he wouldn't meet to sell unless I sent him a copy of some kind of identification. Till this day, I wasn’t sure if I was thinking straight that night; I was pretty high on weed to begin with. I took a picture of my Passport, and uploaded it to him.
Then there was no further reply.
As I sobered up from the Weed, I realized the shit I was in. I just fucking gave a copy of my Passport to a drug dealer, how intelligent was that. "Master criminal my ass.." I covered my face and lost count of the number of times I said “Fuck.” Truly an amateur.. I couldn't sleep anymore.
For the first half of Friday, I was lost in my head. I kept asking myself "What could he possibly do?" He knew my address before, and now he knew everything about me down to my last name. There was no way I could stay anonymous anymore. If he got busted, the DEA will come looking for me, seeing from his records how much he sold me. Whatever it was, my life was in God's hands. I hope he doesn't get caught, and I freaking hope he's as smart as he thought he was. Lets just hope he keeps his word and uses it as insurance..
All that stress had to come out somewhere. That night, I partied like there was no tomorrow; I couldn't even remember what I did other than playing games with this girl from Queens and banging her in the bathroom doggie style then passing out on the stairs. "Did I use condoms?" I wasn't sure, but I know I always make it a point to fuck with a condom when doing it with a stranger. Come to think of it, it was pretty funny that the bathroom had a little basket of condoms of all sorts sitting on top of the bowl; courtesy of the host.
One thing was certain; I had to leave the US as soon as possible in case he gets busted. Hopefully, just hopefully, the DEA wouldn't give a shit about me if they knew I had already left the country.