Akhil Bansal, a daredevil driver, in his red Ford Mustang. Now, the Temple grad student was assuming a central role in his family’s illegal online drug business, seeking ties to a Costa Rica-based enterprise.
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DrugNet, Chapter 3: The PowerPoint
A big deal hinges on a screen test. The feds' team fans out, and can't believe what it sees.
Stealing a line from Akhil's PowerPoint presentation, the assistant said, "What if something bad happens?"
QUEENS
A crisp October evening three months later. Rush hour.
A silver Olds Alero parked half a block from the Armstrong home. In the front seat, two blond women in their mid-30s chatted. Stuffed animals lined the rear window, above two child-booster seats. A couple of neighborhood moms.
Out of sight, the driver cradled a police radio, the passenger a tiny video camera.
Weeks of grueling surveillance had brought the driver, Konieczny, and her DEA team here. The 10-person detail had spent days camped near the Indian students' spartan Roxborough apartment. The agents hadn't seen much, just trips to the grocery store and the bank.
And when this Akhil ventured out? The way he drove! So fast, so crazy. And tough to tail.
Besides, how important were these Indians, anyway? Were they stars of a global conspiracy? Or bit players?
Either way, they were now essential to the case. Even if they didn't lead the DEA to a big boss behind the Internet pharmacies, they gave the feds in Philadelphia jurisdiction. Without a local defendant in the case, the office couldn't prosecute.
In August, the DEA team had followed the Indians to another Queens home. In September, agents there photographed the Armstrongs stuffing packages into a 1999 Lincoln Continental with MOTOR vanity plates.
Now, as dusk fell, the MOTOR car arrived at the Armstrongs' driveway. The cops watched them unload large, see-through plastic bags, each with about 20 packages inside.
Paydirt.
At 7:03 p.m., a UPS truck pulled up.
"You getting this?" Konieczny asked her partner holding the camera, Christine Kelliher.
"Yeah," Kelliher shot back. "I remembered to push record."
With the videotape rolling, Konieczny narrated, "The front door opened, and the driver is starting to load the bags. One, two... I'll count them. Three, four, five. God. Six, seven, eight, nine, 10, 11..."
The bags were so light that the Armstrongs carried a big one in each hand.
"Unbelievable! She's got 12. That's 13. 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. Oh, my!"
The packages kept coming.
"... 23, 24, 25, 26..."
