Enlarge / Sometimes this is all you need.
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Remy Ra St. Felix spent April 11, 2023, on a quiet street in a rented BMW X5, staking out the 76-year-old couple that he planned to rob the next day.
He had recently made the 11-hour drive up I-95 from southern Florida, where he lived, to Durham, North Carolina. It was a long way, but as with so many jobs, occasional travel was the cost of doing business. That was true especially when your business was robbing people of their cryptocurrency by breaking into their homes and threatening to cut off their balls and rape their wives.
St. Felix, a young man of just 25, had tried this line of work closer to home at first, but it hadn't gone well. A September 2022 home invasion in Homestead, Florida, was supposed to bring St. Felix and his crew piles of crypto. All they had to do was stick a gun to some poor schlub's head and force him to log in to his online exchange and then transfer the money to accounts controlled by the thieves. A simple plan—which worked fine until it turned out that the victim's crypto accounts had far less money in them than planned.
Rather than waste the opportunity, St. Felix improvised. Court records showed that he tied the victim's hands, shoved him into a vehicle, and drove away. Inside the car, the kidnappers filmed themselves beating the victim, who was visibly bleeding from the mouth and face. A gun was placed to the victim's neck, and he was forced to record a plea for friends and family to send cryptocurrency to secure the man's release. Five such videos were recorded in the car. The abducted man was eventually found by police 120 miles from his home.
A messy operation.
So St. Felix and his crew began to look out of state for new jobs. They robbed someone in Little Elm, Texas, of $150,000 and two Rolex watches, but their attention was eventually drawn to a tidy home on Wells Street in far-off Durham. The homeowner there was believed to be a significant crypto investor. (The crew had hacked into his email account to confirm this.)
After his day of surveillance on April 11, St. Felix and his partner, Elmer Castro, drove to a local Walmart and purchased their work uniforms: sunglasses, a clip board, reflective vests, and khaki pants. Back at their hotel, St. Felix snapped a photo of himself in this getup, which looked close enough to a construction worker for his purposes.
The next morning at 7:30 am, St. Felix and Castro rolled up to the Wells Street home once more. Instead of surveilling it from down the block, they knocked on the door. The husband answered. The men told him some story involving necessary pipe inspections. They wandered around the home for a few minutes, then knocked on the front door again.
But this time, when the wife answered, St. Felix and Castro were wearing ski masks and sunglasses—and they had handguns. They pushed their way inside. The woman screamed, and her husband came in from the kitchen to see them all fighting. The intruders punched the husband in the face and zip-tied the hands and feet of both homeowners.
Castro dragged the wife by her legs down the hallway and into the bathroom. He stood guard over her, wielding his distinctive pink revolver.
In the meantime, St. Felix had marched the husband at gunpoint into a loft office at the back of the home. There, the threats came quickly—St. Felix would cut off the man's toes, he said, or his genitals. He would shoot him. He would rape his wife. The only way out was to cooperate, and that meant helping St. Felix log in to the man's Coinbase account.
St. Felix, holding a black handgun and wearing a Bass Pro Shop baseball cap, waited for the shocked husband's agreement. When he got it, he cut the man's zip-ties and set him in front of the home office iMac.
The husband logged in to the computer, and St. Felix took over and downloaded the remote-control software AnyDesk. He then opened up a Telegram audio call to the real brains of the operation.
The actual robbery was about to begin.