At 4:47 a.m., the historic stretch of Portland Avenue South in Minneapolis lay frozen and silent, its Victorian homes glowing faintly under streetlights reflected on icy sidewalks.

For residents asleep inside, it was an ordinary winter morning.

Outside, however, an operation of extraordinary scale was unfolding.

A convoy of black armored SUVs rolled into position without sirens, cutting headlights blocks away.

More than 250 federal agents from the FBI and Immigration and Customs Enforcement moved into place with military precision, clad not in standard uniforms but in heavy body armor, ballistic shields, and night-vision equipment.

 

 

Their destination was not a warehouse or a gang hideout—it was a stately private residence belonging to a sitting judge, Hassan Duail, a man long regarded as a symbol of integrity and reform within the community.

At 4:52 a.m., flashbangs shattered the stillness.

Windows exploded inward, commands echoed through hallways, and what followed was not confusion but resistance.

Agents entering the home encountered 21 armed guards positioned like a private army, trained, coordinated, and prepared to defend whatever lay inside.

The firefight was intense but brief.

 

 

Federal teams advanced methodically, using shields and controlled force, subduing the guards one by one.

Within ten minutes, the house was secured.

What agents found next would transform a local investigation into a national reckoning.

Behind a false wall in the basement, investigators uncovered documents and infrastructure that pointed to a criminal conspiracy embedded deep within the justice system itself.

The raid was not a spontaneous decision.

 

 

It was triggered by events just 24 hours earlier that, to the public, appeared to be another chaotic police encounter.

On January 7, a traffic stop involving Renee Good, a 37-year-old local woman, erupted into a confrontation captured on viral video.

Online outrage followed immediately, with accusations of abuse of power and unlawful enforcement.

But when agents searched the vehicle, the narrative collapsed.

Hidden in the trunk were 80 kilograms of high-purity methamphetamine and $2.3 million in cash.

 

 

This was not a случай encounter—it was a delivery.

Financial and travel data told the rest of the story.

Analysts discovered that Good’s movements aligned precisely with court schedules overseen by Judge Duail.

Further forensic accounting revealed an impossible figure: $417 million funneled through shell accounts connected to the judge over five years, spanning Europe, the Middle East, and East Asia.

Each transfer coincided with favorable rulings, suppressed evidence, and mysteriously reduced sentences for defendants tied to narcotics networks.

The conclusion was unavoidable—the judge was not merely compromised; he was central to the operation.

 

 

Still, one question remained unanswered: where was the operation’s physical core? That answer came hours before the raid, when high-altitude thermal imaging drones detected abnormal heat signatures beneath the frozen ground behind the judge’s detached garage.

What appeared to be a quiet residential property was concealing industrial-scale ventilation beneath the soil.

Once inside, agents confirmed the truth.

The house functioned as a logistics hub.

In hidden rooms, they found nearly a ton of narcotics stacked like bullion.

Metal crates in the basement held another 1.

4 tons of heroin and synthetic compounds.

 

 

Cash—$74 million in total—was stashed in suitcases and safes throughout the property.

The most disturbing discovery lay beneath the garage: a hydraulic lift concealing a reinforced tunnel system equipped with lighting, ventilation, and conveyor mechanisms.

It was not an escape route but a distribution artery, engineered for long-term use.

As evidence teams cataloged the findings, cyber-forensics specialists raced against time upstairs.

Encrypted computers seized from the judge’s study were still active.

Analysts froze the systems just before encryption cycles could wipe them clean.

What appeared on the screens shifted the operation’s focus instantly.

 

 

The data revealed a live network tied to port clearances across the state.

Twelve port officials—names absent from public records but consistent across clearance logs—had been overriding inspections for years.

Using legitimate credentials, they created a “ghost corridor,” allowing illicit shipments to bypass customs in minutes.

The judge’s home was the brain, the tunnel the storage, but the port was the mouth.

The next shipment was scheduled to clear within two hours.

There was no time for deliberation.

Federal command ordered an immediate redeployment.

As dawn broke over the harbor, hundreds of agents surged toward the port.

Security barriers were breached, warehouses stormed, and armed resistance quickly overwhelmed.

 

 

In a cold-storage facility marked for frozen produce, agents uncovered the scale of the operation: more than a ton of heroin, hundreds of kilograms of fentanyl, and industrial quantities of synthetic narcotics destined for the Midwest.

Financial teams simultaneously seized records proving monthly payoffs ranging from hundreds of thousands to over a million dollars per official.

By noon, the port was locked down, suspects were in custody, and the network was dismantled.

The final tally was staggering—5.

5 tons of narcotics seized, tens of millions in cash recovered, and a trafficking corridor responsible for fueling countless overdose deaths shut down in a single morning.

 

 

Judge Duail now faces multiple life sentences on charges including racketeering, narcotics trafficking, and corruption.

The guards and port officials await federal indictments.

Minneapolis, meanwhile, is left grappling with an unsettling truth.

This operation did not thrive in secrecy alone—it survived because people trusted titles, uniforms, and authority.

The raid on Portland Avenue South proved that the most dangerous criminals do not always hide in shadows.

Sometimes, they sit on the bench, signing orders, while corruption moves freely beneath our feet.