In a saga that blends international intrigue, political controversy, and high-stakes law enforcement, the United States’ campaign against Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro has taken a dramatic turn over the past year. According to reporting by the Associated Press and WPLG Local10.com, a covert effort by U.S. authorities to apprehend Maduro—indicted on narco-terrorism charges—unfolded behind the scenes, even as the Trump administration escalated military action in the Caribbean and drew criticism at home for its handling of sensitive intelligence.
It all began in April 2024, when Edwin Lopez, then a Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) agent stationed at the U.S. Embassy in the Dominican Republic, received a tip that would set in motion a bold plan. Two of Maduro’s luxury private jets, along with several pilots, had arrived in the Dominican Republic for repairs. Among them was General Bitner Villegas, a trusted member of Maduro’s honor guard and his personal pilot—a man who had ferried the Venezuelan leader to far-flung destinations including Iran, Cuba, and Russia. A video posted online by Maduro himself showed Villegas in the cockpit, underscoring his proximity to the president.
Seizing the opportunity, Lopez arranged a clandestine meeting with Villegas at an airport hangar. The encounter, reminiscent of a scene from a spy thriller, was secretly recorded. Lopez dangled the promise of riches before Villegas, asking him to betray his powerful boss and deliver Maduro to U.S. authorities. The pilot left the meeting without agreeing to cooperate, but he did leave his phone number—a detail that would prove crucial in the months to come.
As the months passed, Lopez intensified his efforts to turn Villegas. On August 7, 2025, he sent the pilot a text message, attaching a link to the Justice Department’s $50 million bounty for Maduro’s capture. “I’m still waiting for your answer,” Lopez wrote, hoping to sway Villegas with both monetary incentive and the promise of a new life. At the heart of the campaign was Maduro’s 2020 indictment by a federal grand jury in the Southern District of New York, which accused him of leading Venezuelan drug cartels that had flooded the United States with cocaine.
While the covert operation played out, the U.S. government took direct action against Maduro’s assets. In September 2024 and again in February 2025, authorities seized two of his private jets for violating American sanctions on Venezuela. Lopez, meanwhile, refused to let go of his mission—even after retiring from HSI in July 2025. He continued to message Villegas via WhatsApp and Telegram, urging him to “be Venezuela’s hero and be on the right side of history,” as reported by the Associated Press.
Lopez’s relentless pursuit was not lost on those who knew him. An exiled Venezuelan opposition leader described Lopez as “obsessed with bringing Maduro to justice,” adding, “He felt he had an unfinished mission to complete.” The stakes, both personal and political, were sky-high.
By September 2025, the U.S. response to Maduro’s alleged narco-terrorism had grown more forceful. President Donald Trump, seeking to dismantle Transnational Criminal Organizations, ramped up military operations in the Caribbean. Thousands of troops, Navy ships, and fighter jets were deployed to the region. Since the buildup, about a dozen suspected drug boats had been bombed, resulting in the deaths of more than 50 alleged terrorist drug smugglers, according to the Pentagon. Trump himself confirmed that the CIA was operating within Venezuela and hinted at possible land strikes against strategic targets in the country.
On September 18, 2025, Lopez noticed a flight tracking account on X (formerly Twitter) had posted the path of an Airbus linked to Maduro flying over Caracas. Sensing a potential opening, he messaged Villegas again: “Where are you heading?” But by this point, the pilot’s patience had worn thin. Villegas shot back, calling Lopez a “coward” and asserting, “We Venezuelans are cut from a different cloth. The last thing we are is traitors.” Lopez responded with images from their earlier hangar meeting, provoking Villegas to reply, “Are you crazy?” Lopez, undeterred, answered, “A little …”
In a final attempt to sway the pilot, Lopez invoked Villegas’s children, suggesting that a better life awaited them in the U.S. “The window for a decision is closing,” he warned. “Soon it will be too late.” The overtures, however, fell flat. Villegas blocked Lopez’s number, effectively ending the months-long psychological chess match.
The story took a twist when a Venezuelan opposition ally posted a photo of Villegas meeting with Lopez at the hangar, along with a mocking birthday greeting. Within minutes, the plane linked to Maduro, which had been flying over Caracas, abruptly returned to the airport. Villegas was not seen or heard from for several days. When he finally resurfaced, it was on Venezuelan state television, where he was paraded as a model of loyalty and described as an “unfailing, kick-ass patriot” by a regime official for refusing to betray Maduro.
While the covert operation fizzled out, the broader U.S. strategy in the region sparked controversy back in Washington. On October 30, 2025, Senator Mark Warner, vice chairman of the U.S. Senate intelligence committee, publicly criticized the Trump administration for excluding Democrats from a critical briefing about the military strikes in the Caribbean. Warner acknowledged that “Nicolás Maduro is a bad guy” and condemned the drug gangs, but he insisted that the administration’s approach to intelligence sharing was dangerously partisan. “If there is a United States policy to try to remove him, it sure as hell at least be shared with the Gang of Eight,” Warner said, referring to the bipartisan group of congressional leaders who are typically briefed on sensitive intelligence matters.
Warner called on the Trump administration to provide the Gang of Eight with the “secret target list” and the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel opinion justifying the strikes. “Shutting Democrats out of a briefing on U.S. military strikes and withholding the legal justification for those strikes from half the Senate is indefensible and dangerous,” he said, as reported by WPLG Local10.com. The Pentagon, meanwhile, maintained that the Caribbean operations were part of President Trump’s directive to dismantle Transnational Criminal Organizations and counter “narco-terrorism.”
The U.S. campaign against Maduro and his alleged criminal network has thus unfolded on multiple fronts—covert intelligence operations, direct military action, and fierce political debate at home. Each approach has revealed the complexity and high stakes of confronting a regime accused of flooding American streets with drugs, while also raising thorny questions about oversight, transparency, and the rule of law.
As the dust settles on this chapter, the fate of both Maduro’s inner circle and U.S. policy in the region remains uncertain. But one thing is clear: the struggle to bring the Venezuelan leader to justice has tested the limits of diplomacy, espionage, and political consensus—leaving deep marks on both sides of the Caribbean.
