Now we're just going to kill them
In the favelas of Rio de Janeiro's Baixada Fluminense, a pattern emerged in 2020 that speaks to one of civilization's oldest corruptions: those entrusted with order became its most systematic violators. Cell phone messages recovered from officer Adelmo Guerini during Operation Gogue Magogue revealed a protection racket in which police negotiated bribes with criminals, killed those who refused to pay, and pocketed seized money and goods as a matter of routine. A fourteen-year-old boy caught in the crossfire, officers celebrating murders in text messages, and a sergeant describing favelas as 'shopping malls' for quick cash withdrawals — these details now form the evidentiary foundation of Operation Mercenaries, a military police internal affairs inquiry into fourteen officers whose conduct blurred the line between law enforcement and organized crime.
- Officers didn't merely accept bribes — they executed suspects who refused to pay, with messages showing colleagues congratulating each other over photos of the dead.
- A fourteen-year-old boy walking home from a psychologist's appointment was shot in the leg when Guerini's patrol opened fire in streets still full of children at 4 p.m.
- R$2,700 stolen from a dead man's body was discovered only because investigators compared private messages to official incident reports that listed no cash among seized items.
- Seized weapons and goods were quietly diverted to pay informants, while official logs recorded nothing — a parallel economy of violence running beneath every filed report.
- Of the fourteen officers now implicated, six remain imprisoned and two face charges while free, as prosecutors press forward under Operation Mercenaries with high-confidence evidence.
Em 2020, agentes federais apreenderam o celular do policial militar do Rio de Janeiro Adelmo Guerini durante a Operação Gogue Magogue. O que encontraram nas mensagens revelou um esquema sistemático de corrupção e violência na Baixada Fluminense: policiais negociavam propinas para libertar criminosos capturados e executavam aqueles que se recusavam a pagar.
As trocas de mensagens entre Guerini e o colega Wiliam de Souza Noronha expõem a brutalidade cotidiana do esquema. Após uma operação, Guerini enviou fotos de um homem morto com um tiro nas costas. "Um a menos", respondeu Noronha. Guerini explicou com frieza: o homem havia se recusado a pagar. Quando outros traficantes tentaram negociar depois do assassinato, Guerini avisou: "Agora vamos matar mesmo." Ao ser transferido para o 21º BPM, Guerini perguntou ao sargento Oly Biage como era a situação financeira no novo território. Biage respondeu que era "fraco de dinheiro" e mencionou que um tenente-coronel chegando ao batalhão "quer caixão" — referência ao apetite do oficial por operações letais.
Na primeira semana no novo posto, Guerini e sua equipe mataram um homem e roubaram R$ 2.700 encontrados com o corpo. O desvio foi descoberto quando investigadores cruzaram as mensagens com o boletim de ocorrência oficial, que não registrava dinheiro algum. Biage parabenizou Guerini e sugeriu que ele gostaria de trabalhar na Favela da Linha. "Era o shopping", disse. "Quando queria fazer um saquinho rápido, ia lá."
Naquele mesmo dia, Luiz Antônio de Souza Ferreira da Silva, de 14 anos, foi baleado na perna ao voltar de uma consulta com psicólogo em Vila Ruth. Estava em processo de adoção por Tamires dos Santos Silva, de 23 anos, que o acompanhava. Quando os tiros começaram, Tamires pediu ajuda aos policiais que chegaram em um carro descaracterizado. Eles a ignoraram. Foram os moradores que socorreram o menino.
Entre fevereiro e abril de 2020, Guerini participou de quatro operações letais. Em duas, foi acusado de roubar materiais apreendidos. Nas outras duas, as mensagens indicam que os suspeitos foram mortos por se recusarem a pagar propina. Itens apreendidos também eram desviados para pagar informantes, enquanto os boletins oficiais registravam apenas uma fração do que havia sido confiscado.
A Corregedoria da Polícia Militar abriu inquérito sob o nome Operação Mercenários. Dos quatorze policiais indiciados, seis permanecem presos e dois respondem ao processo em liberdade. A investigação segue em curso.
In 2020, federal agents seized the cell phone of Rio de Janeiro police officer Adelmo Guerini during an operation called Gogue Magogue. What they found in his messages painted a portrait of systematic corruption and violence: officers in the Baixada Fluminense region were running a protection racket, negotiating bribes to release captured criminals and executing those who refused to pay.
Guerini's text exchanges with fellow officer Wiliam de Souza Noronha reveal the casual brutality of the scheme. After one operation, Guerini sent Noronha photos of a dead man with a bullet wound in his back. "One less," Noronha texted back. "A bullet in their ass." Guerini then explained the killing plainly: the man had refused to pay. "Because he said if the boat wants money, come get it," Guerini wrote, describing how the trafficker had balked at the extortion demand. When other criminals later tried to negotiate a payment arrangement after the murder, Guerini told Noronha they had changed their approach. "Now we're just going to kill them," he wrote. Noronha encouraged him to conduct more operations in the favela to drive up the negotiated amounts.
When Guerini transferred to the 21st Military Police Battalion, he asked sergeant Oly Biage what the financial situation was like in the new territory. "It's weak on money," Biage replied, using slang for the bribes officers could extract. "Catching someone is small change." Biage also mentioned that a lieutenant colonel named André Araújo, arriving at the battalion, "wants a coffin"—a reference to the officer's appetite for lethal operations that could justify larger payoffs.
In Guerini's first week at the new posting, he and his patrol team killed a man and stole R$2,700 that had been found on the body. The theft was discovered when investigators compared Guerini's messages to Biage with the official incident report. On February 6, Guerini sent Biage two photos from São João de Meriti: one showing a dead man with a bullet in his chest, another showing a pistol on a bench. He wrote that the team had seized a "drug table" and that they had found "2.7" followed by a dollar sign. Biage congratulated him and suggested he would enjoy working in Favela da Linha. "That's it, kid, that's it!" he wrote. "Another good favela you'll like: Favela da Linha. Good to work in too, you know? We used to say it was the shopping mall. When you wanted to make a quick withdrawal, you'd go there."
The money never reached the police station. Officers claimed they had only found drugs and a pistol on the dead man, Felipe da Silva Ross. Prosecutors charged Guerini and twelve other officers with embezzling the R$2,700 for personal gain.
That same day, a fourteen-year-old boy named Luiz Antônio de Souza Ferreira da Silva was shot in the leg. He had just left a psychologist's appointment in Vila Ruth and was walking home when Guerini's patrol opened fire during a confrontation with local traffickers around 4 p.m., when the streets were still full of children. The boy was in the process of being adopted by Tamires dos Santos Silva, a twenty-three-year-old woman who had accompanied him to the appointment. His mother had died of cancer two years earlier. When the shooting started, Tamires said she saw an unmarked car with uniformed officers pull up. She asked them for help. They ignored her. Local residents came to the boy's aid instead.
Between February and April 2020, Guerini participated in four lethal operations. In two of them, he was accused of stealing seized materials. In the other two, the messages show the suspects were killed specifically for refusing to pay bribes. The messages also revealed that Guerini diverted seized items to pay informants for their tips. On February 27, an informant known as Kalunga provided intelligence about a drug operation in São João de Meriti, describing the suspects' clothing and weapons in detail. Hours after the operation, Guerini told him "it went well!!" Kalunga thanked him for a new cell phone. The official incident report listed only one pistol as seized that day.
The Military Police's internal affairs office launched an inquiry into the allegations under the name Operation Mercenaries. Of the fourteen officers implicated, six remain in custody and two are responding to charges while free. The investigation continues.
Notable Quotes
One less. A bullet in their ass.— Officer Wiliam de Souza Noronha, responding to photos of a killed suspect
I didn't see where the shot came from. But right after he was hit, a regular car passed by with uniformed officers inside. I asked them for help. But they didn't care. The residents around us helped.— Tamires dos Santos Silva, the woman attempting to adopt the wounded boy
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would officers document these crimes in text messages? Weren't they worried about being caught?
They operated in a system where they believed they had protection. The messages show a kind of institutional confidence—they're joking with each other, comparing favelas to shopping malls. They weren't hiding from their superiors; some of those superiors were part of it.
The boy who was shot—was he involved in any of this?
No. He was coming back from a therapy appointment. He was an orphan being adopted. He was just in the wrong place when the patrol decided to fire into the favela. The woman trying to adopt him asked the officers for help and they drove past.
How did investigators find all this out?
The phone was seized during a separate operation. Once they had it, they could cross-reference the messages with official incident reports. The numbers didn't match. They said they found R$2,700 but the messages showed they took it. That's how the whole structure started to unravel.
What happens to the officers now?
Some are in prison, some are out on the street responding to charges. The internal affairs office is deciding whether to keep them on the force or expel them. But the real question is whether this was just these officers or whether it was systemic—and the messages suggest it was bigger than one patrol.
Did anyone else know this was happening?
The messages mention a lieutenant colonel. The sergeants knew. The informants knew. It's hard to believe this operated in a vacuum. But proving institutional knowledge is different from proving individual guilt.