Spain's Royal Family Suspected of Killing One of the Five Guardia Civil Officers Investigated in Galician Drug Trafficking Conspiracy

The investigation began with a drug-trafficking operation in the Galician town of Carballo, with the investigators eventually looking inside the Guardia Civil itself.

Five officers are now under investigation in a series of cases that grew out of the original narcotics inquiry. The allegations include revealing confidential information, facilitating or concealing drug trafficking, bribery, extortion and fraud.

Then one of the officers died.

A royal hit?
The death, reported in June by Narcodiario, was initially regarded as voluntary. But according to a source familiar with the investigation, the officer had been preparing to provide information about a member of the Bourbon family, a cousin of Francisco de Borbón. The source alleges that the officer was killed to prevent him from talking.

This terrifying accusation would transform a sprawling investigation into suspected corruption inside Spain's law-enforcement apparatus into something far more consequential.

The case began in May 2025, when Guardia Civil officers arrested six people linked to the so-called Otero clan, a group investigators associated with drug trafficking in Carballo and the surrounding Bergantiños region. A Guardia Civil officer was among those arrested, and investigators seized phones.

The evidence recovered from the original case opened new avenues of inquiry. According to Spain's Tribunal Superior de Xustiza de Galicia, the investigation eventually produced five additional judicial proceedings. They concern alleged disclosure of secrets and privileged information; fraud involving the estates of five deceased people; fraud, document falsification and extortion; bribery; and another matter potentially involving bribery or influence peddling.

In all, five Guardia Civil officers came under investigation.

The officers are not accused of acting as a single criminal organization, which makes this more concerning. It hints to someone directing the entire group, someone with enough pull to blackmail and motivate them to provide information.

For a drug-trafficking organization, information can be more valuable than money. A warning that police are watching can allow a suspect to change vehicles, abandon a meeting, or move a shipment. Knowledge of an investigation can reveal how much the authorities know and how much they do not.

In one of the cases that emerged from the Carballo investigation, four officers were linked to an inquiry involving an A Coruña lawyer. Investigators are examining whether confidential information concerning people involved in criminal proceedings was allegedly provided to the lawyer in exchange for benefits.

The allegations suggest a potential market built not around cocaine itself, but around access to the machinery of justice.

That is what makes the death of one of the officers a terrifying development. Narcodiario reported that he was found dead at his home after the investigation into the five officers became public, with its account saying the initial indications pointed toward a voluntary death.

The source who provided the account says investigators should examine whether the officer had become a liability because of what he knew, and whom he was prepared to name.

But the claim places a remarkable question at the center of an already extraordinary investigation: whether a probe into drug trafficking and police corruption was approaching someone with connections to Spain's royal family, and whether the officer carrying that information died before he could disclose it.

Considering the fact that a member of the royal family has been arrested just this year, with allegations that the King himself has profited over a billion euros, one wonders: is Spain now officially a narcostate?

Narcotunnels were leading into Ceuta, with a group of Guardia Civil officers implicated. That was big news in Ceuta just before the migrant invasion. The King, normally vocal about threats to Spain's sovereignty, hasn't even called Morocco's King to voice his displeasure with the rush of migrants that now threatens Madrid's hold on the Spanish enclave in North Africa.

Experts are asking if this was a convenient distraction to hide the fact that Ceuta had become the hashish capital of Europe.

Cocaine’s Hidden Weapon: Access to the Spanish State

When Spain’s Internal Affairs investigators arrested a National Police officer in Barcelona this month, they uncovered something potentially more valuable to traffickers than cocaine itself: information.

The officer worked in an anti-drug and organized-crime unit at Catalonia police headquarters. Investigators found nearly 900 searches of restricted police databases dating to 2020, including information on wanted suspects, criminal investigations, police reports and surveillance operations.

Prosecutors suspect that sensitive intelligence was being passed to people connected to international narcotics trafficking. The officer and his partner were arrested, and he is being investigated for bribery, disclosure of secrets, participation in a criminal organization, and money laundering. A source familiar with the proceedings said he is expected to plead guilty.

The case is striking not because it suggests that one officer went astray, but because it arrives amid a series of investigations showing how aggressively organized crime is testing Spain’s institutions.

Who is taking his cut?
Earlier this year, a Guardia Civil officer was arrested over alleged cooperation with a Balkan-linked cocaine network. Investigators reportedly found 200,000 euros in cold, hard cash and suspected that he had used his position to facilitate shipments through southern Spain. Another Guardia Civil officer was sentenced to six years after admitting to transporting about 40 kilograms of cocaine.

Investigations in Mallorca, Valencia, and Madrid have widened the picture further, examining alleged corruption involving ports, narcotics units, financial networks, and cryptocurrency.

Barcelona has become the violent center of the European cocaine trade’s Balkan dimension.

In April, the alleged crime figure Krsto Vujić, known as “Terminator,” was shot while sitting on a Barcelona terrace with his partner and child. He later died. Investigators linked the killing to the feud between Montenegro’s Škaljari and Kavač clans, rival organizations whose conflict has followed cocaine routes across Europe.

When analyzing events within the last few months, the 900 database searches acquire a different significance.

The question is no longer simply if traffickers can move cocaine through Spain. It has become if they can acquire the information, protection, and institutional access needed to anticipate the people trying to stop them.

Earlier this year, on Feb. 3, the investigation touched somewhere few would have expected: the aristocracy.

National Police officers arrived in Málaga to detain Francisco de Borbón, a member of the Bourbon dynasty and a cousin of King Felipe VI. He was suspected of participating in a money-laundering scheme linked to narcotics trafficking. A judge released him the following day on 50,000 euros bail. Through his lawyers, he has denied wrongdoing.

According to officials familiar with sealed judicial material, investigators tracing cryptocurrency wallets and shell companies have found financial pathways connected with entities linked to Mr. de Borbón’s business and social orbit. The inquiry grew out of a Mallorca property investigation and expanded into alleged corruption involving ports and law-enforcement systems in Valencia.

Francisco's arrest gives the sprawling investigation a remarkable endpoint.

It began with cocaine routes, suspicious property deals, and compromised police databases. It moved through ports, criminal organizations and encrypted financial networks. Then it tarnished a member of the Bourbon crime cartel.

The question thus becomes: have Spain’s institutions been captured by organized crime?

The people moving billions of euros through Europe’s cocaine economy are willing to reach into every layer of Spanish society... from the streets and ports to the police, the financial system and, now, the aristocracy.

The drug war is no longer just about stopping the traffickers.

It is about discovering who, inside Spain’s institutions, is giving them aid and shelter.

A Decade After Justice Scalia's Assassination, New Evidence Suggests Spanish Involvement

President Donald Trump has been agitated at Spain's leadership in recent months due to their refusal to allow the United States to use the two American naval bases on the Iberian country to carry out attacks against the Islamic regime of Iran. This is the public reason, but privately the tension goes deeper, as Spain's intelligence services refuse to collaborate with the United States on evidence that points towards Spanish involvement in the killing of Justice Antonin Scalia 10 years ago. 

In 2016, I found myself on layover in Houston, Texas when a source contacted me and told me that Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia had been found suspiciously dead with a pillow over his face and that a Texan Justice of the Peace had decided to embalm the body without even carrying out an autopsy. 

That Justice of the Peace? A radical Mexican-American by the name of Cinderella Guevara. In 2016, we wrote

"Justice of the peace Cinderella Guevara is a woman with a problematic history, who believes that 'powerful Anglos' don't take 'kindly to Mexican-Americans seeking social and political change;' and she has now become the facilitator in the most significant political assassination to take place in America this century.  

New evidence gathered by the National Security Agency indicates that Guevara was acting on behalf of Spain when she made the decision to destroy any evidence that could have proved that Justice Scalia was assassinated. According to reports, the Bush family ordered Scalia killed because he was about to blow the lid on the truth about the 9/11 attacks and how the Bush family and their Spanish handlers allowed it to happen. 

Did the Bush family use Spain as their staging ground for the 9/11 attacks?

In July 2001, alleged 9/11 coordinator Mohamed Atta traveled to the Tarragona area, specifically the seaside town of Salou. In Tarragona, he met with Ramzi bin al-Shibh, who acted as a liaison between the hijackers and Osama bin Laden. Investigators believe they finalized aspects of the operation, including timing and logistics, during this meeting.

Without convenient security lapses by Spain, 9/11 wouldn't have happened. 


In the 10 years since Justice Scalia was murdered in cold blood, another American patriot has been killed by a suspected Spanish assassin: Charlie Kirk. Spain's intelligence services have also provided the US nothing in regards to that killing, even as evidence shows that the patsy currently being held and paraded by the Deep State didn't even have the correct rifle for that assassination. Evidence instead hints towards a member of Spain's National Police as the gunman. 

The current breakdown in diplomatic relations between the United States and Spain goes deeper than the use of naval bases, but President Trump must show restraint, lest the truth lead to a wave of indignation among Americans that could result in the storming of Spanish embassies in the homeland. 

National Police in Pinto, Madrid Threatened to Rape My Underage Daughter Unless I handed Over My Drug Stash

Poverty can force people into choices they never imagined making. That is not an excuse for breaking the law, but it is a reality that too often goes ignored. Before anyone judges me for selling marijuana, I ask them to consider how I got there.

Several years ago, I suffered an accident that left me with a permanent limp. I lost my job and spent more than a year sending out my CV, only to be met with silence. No interviews. No offers. Nothing. Meanwhile, Madrid became more expensive every year. Rent rose, everyday costs climbed, and my family's needs did not stop simply because employers stopped calling. Watching my daughter outgrow her clothes while I could not afford to replace them was one of the hardest experiences of my life.

Eventually, I started selling marijuana. It was not a career, nor was it something I took pride in. It was a desperate attempt to keep my family afloat when every legal avenue I pursued seemed closed.

Then someone reported me to the police in Pinto. Whoever made the report did not simply accuse me of selling marijuana. They also claimed I was dealing cocaine, something that was completely untrue.

One day last spring, around noon, three police officers entered my home without presenting a warrant. My daughter was safely at school, and my wife happened to be away. Looking back, I am grateful they were not there to witness what happened next.

The officer leading the search looked at me and said, "Tell us where the coke is and we won't ransack the house. If we can't find it, we'll come back this afternoon when your daughter gets home from school and have a good time with her."

Those words have stayed with me ever since.

When I insisted there was no cocaine in the house, he threw me to the floor, pinned my head against the hardwood with his knee, and twisted my arm behind my back with such force that I thought he would dislocate my shoulder. The pain was overwhelming. I admitted that I had marijuana and told them exactly where it was. A female officer found about 60 grams in a drawer. Only then did he release me.

Before leaving, he warned that they would return with dogs if they heard another report about cocaine, repeating that they would come back when my daughter was home.

I cannot prove what might have happened had my daughter been present. I only know what I heard and how terrified I was by the threat. That fear has never really left me.

Today, I live with PTSD. My family eventually left Pinto, and we have left Spain altogether. We do not intend to return.

I am not writing this to deny responsibility for selling marijuana. I broke the law, and I accept that. But no one should be threatened with violence against their child, and no one should be assaulted during an investigation because an accusation turns out to be false.

The true measure of a society is not how it treats its model citizens. It is how it treats those who are vulnerable, unemployed, poor, or suspected of committing crimes. The police have extraordinary powers because the public is expected to trust them to exercise those powers lawfully and humanely. When that trust is replaced by fear, something far more important than a criminal investigation has been lost.

This is why I am telling my story. Not because I expect sympathy, but because silence only protects abuse. If my experience can encourage a conversation about accountability, proportionality, and the treatment of ordinary people by those entrusted with enforcing the law, then perhaps something good can come from one of the darkest moments of my life.

By: Joaquin