Black Market: Dispatches (2016): Season 1, Episode 2 - Kamikaze Gas Smugglers - full transcript

Gasoline is one of
the biggest black markets

in the world, you know.

And then you got
this part of the world

where on one side of the border,

you know,
gas is 8 cents a gallon,

and on the other side of
the border, it's $2 a gallon.

Like, what did you think
was gonna happen?

The human spirit is just so --

It's so amazing to me.

The will to survive.
The will to live.

You know, it's against
all odds, man.



And Lilia Luciano,
she found that out firsthand

when she went a gas-smuggling
run in Colombia.

**

Our goal is just to simply
show the world a window

as to why people
do the things they do,

where that desperation
comes from.

It's like they say --
When the system fails you,

you create your own system.

**

I'm riding in the back
of a pickup truck

in the dusty
northern tip of Colombia

chasing a caravan
of gas smugglers.

Gas smuggling
is one of the biggest

contraband markets on Earth,



and for years,
millions of gallons

of cheap Venezuelan gas

have been trafficked
across the border into Colombia.

It's a dangerous
around-the-clock operation,

and I'm here to see
how it all works.

We heard there's
a blockade down the road

by gas smugglers
fighting the police,

and they're gonna wait it out

until the authorities
clear that road

and they can bring all the gas

that they brought from Venezuela
into the rest of Colombia.

We want to see
if we can catch them.

We're headed towards Cuestacita,
a scrappy Colombian border town

where we've heard the smugglers

are in a standoff
with authorities.

The police are demanding
a bribe to allow them

to continue on
into the Colombian interior.

This is a total mess.

No one can get in.
No one can get out.

I just talked to an old lady
who says that she's scared

'cause there's gas everywhere.

She's afraid that something
might explode.

The cause of all this chaos

is actually pretty easy
to understand.

Venezuela has the largest
oil reserves in the world,

and the socialist
government there

keeps gas
prices artificially low.

Less than 10 cents a gallon.

But in Colombia,
that same gallon

will cost you over $2.

It's one of the most extreme

price differentials
in the world.

So you combine that with

a barely patrolled
1,400-mile border,

and you end up
with a scene like this.

Now we're seeing a bunch
of guys in fatigues,

basically the Colombian army,
walking in.

All of this traffic
is contraband,

and the army
is letting them through.

The soldiers just give up
and allow the smugglers

to continue on their way
into the Colombian countryside.

This is crazy.

They're hauling ass
with all kind of goods,

especially gas,

and, like, the people
from the town are cheering them.

They're like, "Yeah!
Get out of here!"

Once these trucks
get past Cuestacita,

they unload their gas to teams

of small-time runners
called kamikazes.

They will race
for hundreds of miles

before reaching
local distributors.

I meet up with a kamikaze driver
who I'll call Oscar.

He's agreed to allow me
to come along on his run

if we keep
his identity concealed

and don't slow him down.

What are the main obstacles?

What kinds of dangers
are you facing on the road?

It's a very risky business.
Why do you do it?

Oscar's supply of gas shows up,

and everyone scrambles
to load up the cars

and get on the road.

He's coming in right now?

They're about to start
filling up this car and his car

with something like
400 gallons of gasoline.

Kind of scary.

They're handling lots
of gasoline.

It's the middle of the day.

It's 1:00 p.m.,
ridiculously hot,

in the middle of the desert.

Shit.

Oscar jams dozens of containers
into his tiny car

and leaves just enough room
for me and my cameraman.

Just cover the camera.

It's nearly 100 degrees,

and I'm squeezed
into a car packed

with 400 gallons
of contraband gas.

Anybody got a smoke?

We're headed 100 miles
due south to Oscar's hometown,

La Paz, where he has to meet
a buyer by sundown.

We're taking an indirect
route meant to evade checkpoints

that can take up to eight hours
at the legal speed limit.

But Oscar has only
five hours to make his meet.

One, two, three, four,
five-car caravan.

**

My God. What a rush.

Oscar just left me alone
on the side of the road

in a car full of illegal gas.

So, right now, the driver
just got out of the car.

He went to talk
and pay the police

so that we can get across.

He's working as what
they call a mosca.

It's the guy who goes ahead
of the caravan to pay the cops.

I'm in Northern Colombia riding
along on a gas-smuggling run.

We're carrying 400 gallons

of this dirt-cheap
Venezuelan gas

that the smugglers need to
deliver to a buyer by sundown.

This is the first
of a few checkpoints

we have to go through
before getting to La Paz.

Oscar pays the equivalent
of $12 per car,

and we're through
the first checkpoint.

Here's how it works.

He can make up
to $250 on the sale,

but he only keeps what
he doesn't pay out in bribes,

and between here
and his hometown,

there could be
up to eight checkpoints

where he could be arrested
or even shot at.

And sure enough,
just around the bend

there's another checkpoint.

This time,
it's the Colombian Army.

Shit.

Soldiers, vigilantes,
and cops are all known

to shoot at smugglers
at these checkpoints,

and Oscar doesn't know
what this guy wants.

They said "pura gas."
Pure gasoline.

Like, they know
that we had gasoline,

and he still gave him the money.

All it takes is $1.25
to get by the Colombian Army.

But these drivers --

they're just small link
on a much larger smuggling chain

that goes all the way
to the top of both countries

according to experts
like Angel Garcia

of the Central University
of Venezuela.

Many experts say this corruption

is part of the reason
why Venezuela

is facing a crippling
economic crisis

and brewing discontent.

But President Maduro
puts much of the blame

for his country's economic
woes on Colombian smugglers

who he accuses
of draining billions of dollars

worth of Venezuelan
goods every year.

On the Colombian side
of the border,

the tension is also high.

Police shoot
at smugglers on sight.

And new laws mean
longer prison sentences

for the ones that they do catch.

Drivers like Oscar have
a weapon of their own.

It's why they're
called kamikazes.

Shit.

We get to an area known
for having a lot of cops.

They're telling us something.
They're --

We take a gamble on a detour,

but it's over
a really rough dirt road,

and these cars are not built
for this kind of terrain.

So, we just got word that
there's a police checkpoint,

um, back there,
and we just took an off-road

that's unbelievably complicated
for this size of car.

From this cramped vantage point,

it's pretty clear that
running contraband gas

is not easy money.

High speeds, police everywhere,

and rough roads like this one.

But for Oscar, it's a living.

La Paz is a small town

where almost everyone works
in the smuggling business.

We met with Oscar's wife.

Like many women
married to kamikazes,

she wishes her husband
didn't have to resort

to such a dangerous way
to make a living.

Kamikaze drivers can face
five years in prison

if they get caught.

But the real danger
is an accident.

We met another woman in La Paz.

Her son was a kamikaze.

20 kamikaze drivers from La Paz
have died in crashes

in the last five years.

As the sun sets,

we're getting close
to Oscar's hometown,

so he steps on it.

Avoiding police checkpoints
and minimizing the bribes

that he has to pay
aren't the one challenges

for this Colombian gas runner.

It's also a race.

If he doesn't make
it home by sundown,

he'll lose a day of profit.

Wow.

Another $1.25 bribe,
and we're back on the road.

Oscar has already paid
off two police officers,

one soldier,
and evaded a fourth,

but we're coming up on a town

where locals have gotten
in on the action

and they've set up
their own checkpoints.

Paying off the locals
turns out also to be a bargain.

His partner in a car
ahead of us pays $5

for the entire caravan,

and we don't even
have to slow down.

After five long hours
on the road,

we make it to La Paz
just as the sun sets.

Oscar changes out
of his gas-soaked

clothes and meets his buyer.

It was a good day for Oscar.

Because we were able
to avoid so many checkpoints,

the ride only cost him
$19 in bribes,

which means that
he pocketed $240 in profit.

This was one of Oscar's
biggest paydays ever,

but it might be his last.

Just weeks after our run,
three Venezuelan soldiers

were wounded in a shootout
with Colombian paramilitaries

at a nearby border crossing.

It was the last straw
for Venezuelan President Maduro

who responded
by sending in troops

in an effort to stamp
out smuggling

and the lawlessness
that comes with it.

Three months after
Maduro's crackdown,

we traveled back to La Paz

to see how things
have changed for Oscar.

**

In the months that followed,
the situation at the border

became even more chaotic

as the Venezuelan economy
spiraled out of control.

In August 2016,
the two governments

finally reached an agreement,
and the border was reopened.

But with the agreement

establishing stricter
border controls,

the future of
the kamikaze smugglers

of La Paz remains uncertain.