The Proposition

Guns are as much a part of Arizona as the Saguaro cacti that dot the desert's floor. Used for protection, hunting, and competition, it's not uncommon to spot one in a pickup's rack or in the holster of a soccer mom putting gas in her minivan. The sight of people openly carrying guns causes no more concern than an errant Gila monster crossing the grocery store parking lot. Arizona is filled with rugged people who celebrate their pioneer spirit and take responsibility for their own safety. For the most part it is these honest, hard-working, God-fearing people who attend gun shows there. For the most part ...

It was at the big February gun show in 2006 at the state fairgrounds in Phoenix that I first met Diego Rodriguez. I was helping one of my customers make a selection from the rifles I had on display when one of my helpers, Chenzo, came over and asked me if I had more AR-15 lowers than the six that were on display.

"That's all I brought," I told him. "Why?"

"The guy standing over there wants to buy all six and he wants to know if you have more." He pointed to a smiling young chubby Hispanic man with his hat on sideways, baggy shorts, and knee-high socks. Given his "gangster-like" appearance, I seriously doubted his background check would even go through.

The only real difference between an AR-15 rifle and the US military's M-16 rifle is that the AR-15 is semiautomatic while the M-16 is fully automatic. The AR-15 can be broken into two major assemblies: the upper and lower. The upper consists of the barrel, receiver, and bolt carrier group while the lower consists of the buttstock, pistol grip, and fire control components. The lower also possesses the serial number, and in the eyes of the federal government is considered a complete firearm — even if the upper assembly is not installed. For that reason, licensed dealers like me must do a background check on anybody purchasing a lower. Run by the FBI, the instant background check was mandated by the Brady Handgun Violence Prevention Act of 1993. The computerized system checked all state criminal records to see if the purchaser had any criminal background.

Several minutes later, Chenzo handed me a wad of cash totaling $1,600. "That's for the six lowers," he said. "His background check went through without any problems."

I went over to where we kept the #4473 forms and made sure the paperwork had been filled out correctly. It had. We had done everything by the book and had completed a legal transaction. But where did that young kid get so much cash, and why did he need so many lowers? Why was he asking if we had more? I dog-eared the form so that I could find it easily in the stack.

I didn't think much about it that night, but the following day the same young man returned to my display. He and a friend were holding bags of what I could tell were AR-15 lowers. I wondered if he wanted to return the ones he'd bought yesterday. He smiled at me and I walked over.

"Hey, you were busy yesterday when I was here, but I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Diego Rodriguez," he said.

I shook his hand. "Mike Detty," I said. "Was there something wrong with the lowers I sold you?" I pointed to the bags he and his friend carried.

"No, we just bought these today from another guy. But I was wondering if you had any more lowers available?"

"Nope, you got them all yesterday. I've got twenty more on order from my supplier but they won't get here until next week."

"I'll take them all," said Rodriguez.

This erased any doubts that this kid might be doing something legitimate. In addition to the six he bought from me the day before, he and his friend were now holding at least eight AR-15 lowers and trying to broker a deal for twenty more. Fortunately we had the #4473 form on file and I had his full name, address, and social security number to pass on to the authorities.

I handed Diego a business card and told him to call me later in the week for the status of those twenty lowers.

The two-hour drive back to my home in Tucson gave me the opportunity to go over the weekend's events and I tried to imagine a scenario where someone would need so many AR-15 lowers. I couldn't come up with anything that made sense. No, there was no doubt in my mind that this kid was up to something illegal and was just not bright enough to be less obvious about it.

The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, more commonly referred to as the ATF, is a Department of Justice agency that oversees and regulates the firearms industry. Tucson has a small branch office in the federal building downtown and I had a contact there.

In the previous two years, I had contacted Special Agent Spencer Edgar twice to report suspicions that my customers were doing something illegal — based solely on the volume of product they were buying. One case involved a Nogales, Arizona, cop who was buying AR-15 lowers and then transporting them across the border where they were being assembled into complete weapons. My involvement in this case was nothing more than reporting each transaction, along with the serial numbers, and faxing the form #4473 to Special Agent Edgar. The cop was confronted, and he resigned. I'm not sure what happened from there. It would not have been out of the ordinary for him to flip and turn over information in return for not being prosecuted or for a reduction in prison time.

A few weeks after the incident with the cop, an older Caucasian gentleman started buying lower receivers from me. The odd thing about this fellow was that he did not seem to know the first thing about shooting or AR-15 rifles. At first he bought five lower receivers at a time and then increased that amount to ten at a time. I contacted SA Edgar after his second purchase and Edgar asked me to inform him of any subsequent transactions. When the man approached me again at another gun show and asked if he could buy seventy-five lowers, I dutifully passed this information on to Edgar who gave me the go-ahead to complete the sale. I told the customer it would take me two weeks to get that many lowers and that we could do the transaction at the next gun show.

The day of the gun show I noticed the man walking slower than usual to my tables. All the color was gone from his face and he showed me the port his doctor had put in his arm for dialysis. Given his hunched posture and weathered looks, he seemed much older than the fifty-nine years his driver's license divulged. He was so frail that I closed my tables down to help carry the box of lowers out to his car for him. Of course, ATF agents were all around us and followed him back to his trailer in an impoverished part of town. According to Edgar, he confessed quickly saying that he saw nothing wrong with helping Mexican police officers get the parts they needed for good weapons....