Captured and Broken: Los Cabreras Sicario Interrogated by Chapiza

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The frame flickers to life, harsh artificial light illuminating a man in a red polo shirt, his hands bound tightly in front of him. Dirt clings to his pants, the kind that sticks when you’ve been on your knees too long. This is Sebastian Martinez Perez, 05. His hollow face and darting eyes betray a man resigned to his fate, glancing between his captors and the corpse beside him, as if death itself is daring him to speak.

To his left, a dead man lies crumpled like discarded trash, his body twisted unnaturally. Beside him are two others—one shirtless and trembling, the other hunched in a green shirt, his head bowed low as if already mourning his fate. The interrogator’s voice, calm and detached, cuts through the chaos of war like a scalpel.

This is just another tit-for-tat interrogation video as Chapiza and Mayiza try to establish the narrative, each side vying for control of the message in this deadly propaganda war.

The Interrogation Video

This video contains no graphic content and does not depict any acts of physical violence.

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Transcript of the Interrogation

Thanks to Cartel Insider’s Sol Prendido for transcribing and translating the video.

Sicario: What’s your name?

Captive: Sebastian Martinez Perez. Everyone knows me as 05.

Sicario: How old are you?

Captive: Thirty-nine.

Sicario: Where are you from?

Captive: Tamazula, Durango. But I currently live in Culiacán, Sinaloa.

Sicario: Which criminal group do you work for?

Captive: I belong to the Cabreras mob. I report to El Picudo, who in turn works for Mayito Flaco.

Sicario: What’s your job?

Captive: I recruit people to fight in the towns of Cásala, El Salto, and other areas.

Sicario: Is there something you’d like to say to your comrades from the criminal cell you belonged to?

Captive: Things are tough out here. It’s best that everyone give it some thought before engaging in anything because this isn’t a game.

Captive: As you can see, my companions are in the same boat I’m in. The honest truth is that the Chapiza mob is too tough to defeat. Everyone’s asking for people to come work out here, but they honestly don’t need them. It’s best for everyone to just stay the fuck out of this.

Captive: We’re out here dying of hunger, and there isn’t any support for us. We’ve been out here for several days now, and we haven’t had any help. Just stay the fuck out of this. Otherwise, the same fate that we’ve had awaits you.

Captive: To everyone who was told they’d ascend within the organization: if you’re seeing this video, stay away. The Chapiza mob isn’t easy to defeat. We’re fighting for a group that can’t always provide what we need.

Captive: These gentlemen spared my wife the day I was captured. I was told they don’t mess with women and they immediately let her go. The message is clear, gentlemen.

Captive: I already know my life has gone to shit. But for everyone out there that still has a chance, it’s best that you stay the fuck out of this conflict. Don’t bother going into Culiacán either because everything will end horribly for you.

Captive: There’s no reason why our mob should have us out here like this. As everyone can see, my partners have also been captured…

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Mica’s Analysis

The calm, calculated demeanor of the interrogator sets this video apart from the frenzied violence often seen in the cartel war. Instead of intimidation through chaos, the captors employ control and precision as their weapons. Sebastian’s confession—whether coerced or genuine—is part of a carefully orchestrated psychological strategy. The message is clear: the Chapiza don’t just overpower their enemies; they erode their will to fight.

Like many of these situations, the captives are likely coached off-camera. Their words are designed to serve the captors’ narrative, painting the Cabreras as weak, disorganized, and unworthy of loyalty. Overpromising and failing to pay has been a recurring theme I hear often, further highlighting the fractures within these criminal organizations and the empty incentives they offer to recruits. Even 05’s gratitude for sparing his wife is strategic, a calculated nod to the Chapiza’s supposed discipline. This narrative also counters accusations that the Chapiza indiscriminately kill innocent people. By sparing women and explicitly stating this principle, they attempt to portray themselves as ruthless but controlled—a dangerous branding tactic that blends terror with an air of morality.

This video is more than a propaganda tool; it’s a weaponized display of dominance. Every word uttered by the 05—his regret, his warnings, his acknowledgment of betrayal within the Cabreras—reinforces the Chapiza’s control. It’s not just about eliminating their enemies; it’s about dismantling their rivals from the inside out.

For 05, this is the end. But for other sicarios caught in the war, the message is clear: the tit-for-tat killings and public interrogations fuel a relentless cycle of chaos and humiliation—with no end in sight.