What really happened in border shooting and agents' convictions?

FABENS, Texas — The prairie where it happened is quiet now. A sign rests near a muddy ditch, "Stop Illegal Immigration," left behind by protesters who have paid homage to two former Border Patrol agents imprisoned for shooting a drug smuggler in the backside as he sprinted toward Mexico.

It seems almost unimaginable that one moment in this lonely place ignited the furor that rages two years later.

A jury convicted the agents of assault, obstruction of justice and civil-rights violations. A federal judge meted out 12 years for Jose Alonso Compean and 11 for Ignacio "Nacho" Ramos.

Demonstrators took to the streets as the two men surrendered last month. Since then, there have been hateful phone calls to prosecutors and warnings to President Bush from congressional Republicans about taking sides with "the American people or ... our enemies," along with demands for an independent probe and a pardon.

"Commended illegal immigration heroes," one Web site christened the convicted officers. Supporters are disgusted that the so-called victim — "a doper" — went free, while the agents sit behind bars for "doing their job."

Information

Trial transcripts:

http://tinyurl.com/367akq

DHS investigative report:

http://tinyurl.com/2nhdhx

But the events of that February day in 2005 aren't as black and white as us versus them.

One fact is missing from the chatter on the airwaves and the Internet: In the El Paso Border Patrol sector, where Compean and Ramos were assigned, agents have fired their weapons 14 times in the line of duty since 2001. All but one was ruled a justifiable use of force, according to the U.S. Attorney's Office in San Antonio — a "good shoot," in Border Patrol parlance.

The exception was the Compean-Ramos case. "They knew it was a bad shoot," a federal prosecutor told jurors.

This case is different not simply because of the debate it inflamed but, as an Associated Press review of court documents, transcripts and exhibits shows, because of what transpired in a few life-changing moments on that lonely prairie.

The shooting

Agreement on chase, but not much else

"Did you guys copy? There's a blue van leaving at 76. Going pretty quick."

It was 1:11 p.m. Feb. 17, 2005, in Fabens, a hamlet of cotton fields 30 miles east of El Paso.

Compean, a Border Patrol officer for five years, was on the radio calling in some tripped sensors. He alerted fellow officers that he suspected a drug transaction was under way, and agents of the Fabens Border Patrol station responded quickly.

Oscar Juarez was in his vehicle not far from the Rio Grande, holding the line against a group of illegal immigrants waiting for the right moment to cross over from Mexico, he would testify.

Ramos, a 10-year veteran, was having lunch at the station when he heard the call.

They, and five other agents, responded. Taking down a drug load, agents would testify, is an event every officer wants credit for.

Juarez followed the van north into Fabens. He hit his overhead lights, but the van sped up and headed back south, toward the border. Ramos joined in the pursuit.

"We got this baby," Juarez radioed at 1:19 p.m.

The van stopped at the edge of a steep sewage ditch. Beyond it, facing south, was a slight incline, then a levee road and an open vega, or prairie, about half a football field in length. Beyond the vega: the Rio Grande, then Mexico.

Ramos pulled up behind the van, followed by Juarez. Compean parked his truck on the levee road.

The van driver, Osvaldo Aldrete Davila, ran for the canal, Mexico in his sights.

"Parate! Parate!" Compean shouted, Spanish for "stop."

Compean pointed his shotgun at Aldrete. The driver raised his hands; they were empty, Compean, Juarez and Aldrete would agree in statements to investigators and in court testimony. Aldrete and Compean reported hearing another agent say, "Hit him." Compean swung his weapon, Juarez testified, but lost his balance and fell into the ditch, dropping his shotgun. Aldrete took off, headed for Mexico.

Stories diverge from there.

Juarez testified that he was walking toward the van when he heard shooting, turned and saw Compean firing his handgun. Compean reloaded, Juarez testified, fired a few more shots and then dashed into the vega.

Compean insisted he recovered from his fall and managed to tackle Aldrete, who threw dirt in his face and took off running again. Compean said he started shooting because he thought he saw something "black, shiny" in the suspect's hand. Testimony revealed that Compean fired about 14 times.

Ramos testified that he heard gunfire, ran into the vega and saw Compean on the ground. Ramos fired once, he said, because "I believed I saw a gun."

Compean and Ramos walked back toward the drainage ditch. Some 743 pounds of marijuana were found in the van.

Aldrete testified he never had a gun or anything "shiny" in his hands. More striking were the agents' conflicting stories and actions — and the trial testimony of other Border Patrol officers.

In a written statement, Compean said Ramos was "standing next to me" when Ramos took the final shot. At trial, Compean testified he was on one knee and getting to his feet when Ramos ran by him and fired, but he said he didn't see Ramos shoot.

In his statement, Compean said he and Ramos saw Aldrete climbing out of the Rio Grande into Mexico and he "looked like he was limping." Compean also acknowledged, "I think Nacho might have hit him." Ramos testified, "I didn't see him limping."

Border Patrol policy requires that all weapon discharges be reported verbally to a supervisor within one hour. A sector evidence team then is dispatched, allowing supervisors to determine whether the shooting was justified. The FBI is called. The fired weapon is held for examination.

None of this occurred.

Neither Compean nor Ramos reported the shooting. Instead, Compean admitted he picked up and disposed of his spent bullet casings. Compean also failed to mention the gunfire in his drug-seizure report, stating only: "The driver was able to abscond back to Mexico."

Compean did tell at least two other agents that he fired at the driver. One was Art Vasquez, who testified that he found, at Compean's request, five other shell casings — and threw them into the drainage ditch.

"So you destroyed the scene for someone that you worked with?" prosecutor Debra Kanof asked him at trial.

"Yes, ma'am."

Vasquez and the other agents and supervisors on the scene all testified that neither Compean nor Ramos ever told them the suspect had something that looked like a gun.

Border Patrol brass in El Paso and investigators at the Department of Homeland Security's Office of Inspector General learned of the shooting two weeks later from an agent in Arizona. His mother-in-law had received a call from her childhood friend, Aldrete's mother, whose son was claiming he had been shot by the Border Patrol.

Both mothers wondered: Could it be true?

The reactions

Agents have support, little of it from peers

Retired Border Patrol agent David Ham, a former assistant chief in El Paso, recently visited the shooting scene, as national outrage grew. "They're picking the wrong guys to make heroes," he said.

The public's image of the border partly explains support for the agents, said Howard Campbell, a cultural anthropologist at the University of Texas, El Paso.

"[The public thinks] this is just one emblematic case of the border being out of control," he said. "That's the imagery. ... That overrides the facts."

But Ramos' lawyer said the case represents a contradiction between "the reality on the riverbank and the bureaucracy of regulations."

"They're out there in life-and-death situations, and then when something happens — just to hell with them?" attorney Mary Stillinger said.

Appeals are planned, and calls for a presidential pardon have intensified after reports that Ramos was beaten in a federal prison in Yazoo City, Miss.

Two jurors signed affidavits on behalf of the defense, saying they did not think the agents were guilty of some counts on which they were convicted. But another juror, who asked to be identified only as Bob G., told The Associated Press that he stands by his decision at trial.

"They were clearly guilty," he said. "This thing, 'They were just doing their job.' Well, what kind of job were they doing?"

It's true, that until that day, the agents had been productive employees, said Luis Barker, retired chief of the El Paso Border Patrol sector and the agents' former boss.

It's also true that the smuggler, whose urethra was severed in the shooting, was given immunity in exchange for his testimony. He has filed a $5 million claim with the government.

Barker acknowledged some might see that as a cruel twist of fate.

"But the rule of law still applies," he said. "If this guy's running away and he's shot in the butt, then he's obviously not a threat. OK, 'Well, I thought he had something in his hand.' Then why didn't you tell that supervisor?

"The long and short of it is, the system worked," Barker said, "as it should have."