'Queenpin' reigned over cartel-fueled drug ring in coastal Georgia

Beth Warren
Louisville Courier Journal

BRUNSWICK, Georgia — Convicted murderer James Dylon Nesmith used his charm to woo a prison guard and command dozens of minions, including white supremacists and African-American gang members.

In one of southern Georgia's largest-ever drug networks, drug couriers and traffickers based in the small coastal town of Brunswick followed the 26-year-old's orders even though he was 113 miles away, locked in a prison cell.

Aryan Brotherhood members teamed with the burgeoning white supremacist gang Ghost Face Gangsters, the predominately African-American street gang Gangster Disciples, the Bloods, as well as Hispanic men to move drugs for the network, according to the FBI.

Employing hate groups and the minorities they target seems like an improbable and incendiary business partnership, but agents say greed trumps hate when millions of dollars are within reach.

Convicted murderer James Dylon Nesmith ran a large-scale coastal Georgia drug ring from inside state prison.

Nesmith is part of Gangster Disciples, evidenced by his statement to police and his body tattoos.

"Dylon doesn't have a racist bone in his body" but may have befriended white supremacists in prison to keep safe, said his Savannah attorney, J.D. Maines.

Regardless of who Nesmith loved or loathed, those close to him were doomed.

His girlfriend and another woman he wooed are behind bars. His plan to help his mother and sister make money landed them in prison, too. Several of his underlings are in graves, and the majority of the others are in cells.

To report this story, The Courier Journal reviewed hundreds of pages of court records and talked with several local and federal law enforcement officials, prosecutors and defense attorneys and the sister of a woman who died of an overdose.

Rachael Byrd is in prison for helping run a large-scale drug ring in south Georgia.

Court records show Nesmith, pronounced nay-smith, convinced his girlfriend, Rachael Byrd, years ago that he would be paroled and the two of them could live together. She followed his directions to manage a group of female drug couriers who frequently drove more than four hours north to Atlanta to pick up one to three kilos of meth supplied by a Mexican drug cartel.

Brunswick is a small port town that draws tourists looking for a slower pace, with gently swaying Spanish moss trees, a Victorian-era historic district, shrimp boats and passenger ferries offering rides on causeways to the four barrier islands known as the Golden Isles.

But police here began to notice another thriving industry, cartel-sourced drugs, and they soon realized they stumbled onto a massive network unlike anything they had seen before.

"We were kind of scratching at the surface," said Glynn County Police Lt. Brandon Gregory, who had overseen a drug task force in Brunswick with just three narcotics officers.

"We knew we were gonna need help."

The case illustrates a key strategy used by Mexican cartels to expand their customer base far from major cities and deep into rural America — where there are fewer competitors and fewer police.

Nesmith ordered large quantities of drugs from Mexico through a Hispanic man who served as his "plug," or hook-up. However, it's unclear which cartel the plug turned to in order to get the drugs.

Agents with the FBI's Atlanta division say members of the infamous Sinaloa Cartel, once headed by kingpin El Chapo, likely supplied the Brunswick drug network, since the cartel controls an Atlanta hub.

"People are surprised to learn the cartel has such a wide-reaching influence" extending into Brunswick, said Will Clarke, supervisory senior resident agent over FBI operations in Savannah.

"It's a small, sleepy town, a hidden gem within the state of Georgia. Friends, neighbors, acquaintances, coworkers are dying from these drugs."

The FBI's Coastal Georgia Violent Gang Task Force agreed to lead the probe, which spanned two years and ensnared Nesmith and 75 men and women, the largest federal drug prosecution in Southern Georgia history. A dozen more suspects would have been charged, but before police could arrest them, they died from overdoses.

Before investigators could charge drug ring suspect, Clinton Taylor, he landed in a local jail on an attempted murder charge for a machete attack in 2021 in Brunswick. Taylor is awaiting trial in state court and maintains his innocence.

The victim told investigators he was in bed when Taylor rushed in and accused him of stealing something and started swinging and cutting him with a machete. The victim said Taylor chased him through the house and into the kitchen, cutting off fingers and hacking into his collarbone. Taylor is accused of trying to cut the man's head off and nearly cutting off the victim's arm.

One group of gang members helped distribute deadly fentanyl brought from Jacksonville, Florida, to Brunswick, fueling a surge in overdoses.

During a police raid at the home last year of one of the larger fentanyl dealers, Charles "Boomer" Walrath, agents found an aerosol gun that resembled an assault rifle, along with hats, vests and tactical gear marked with "ATF," the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.

A few days earlier, local police had fielded complaints about a man dressed as an ATF agent who initiated traffic stops in a black Yukon. The fake agent interrogated drivers on the side of the road just for fun, not taking anything from them.

In October, a federal judge sentenced Walrath to 12 years in prison for drug trafficking.

Prison guard Desiree Briley smiles in this work photo. Then, she was romanced by one of the inmates, convicted murderer James Dylon Nesmith. Briley lost her career and is now in her own cell for smuggling drugs to Nesmith.

Nesmith wooed Desiree Briley, a young correctional officer at Telfair State Prison in McCra-Helena, Georgia. She followed Nesmith's orders to smuggle meth, hidden in highlighters. She was fired and convicted of a felony. Now, she's in her own prison cell.

Nesmith also ended up with several cell phones, even though he was put in isolation, but agents weren't sure who gave him the contraband phones.

Nesmith was the only one with nothing to lose. He was already serving a life sentence for a 2015 murder during a home invasion robbery in Toombs County, Georgia. Nesmith later admitted teaming with an accomplice to break into the home of a hunting guide to steal rifles, then beating and stabbing the victim to death. They were caught trying to pawn items, including a distinctive duck call.

He expects to die behind bars, his attorney said. The parole board looks for signs of contrition and rehabilitation. Nesmith has continued crimes in prison, including helping incite a riot in 2020 over isolation during the height of the COVID pandemic.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Greg Gilluly with the Southern District of Georgia helped prosecute the biggest federal case in the district's history, a drug network based in the coastal town of Brunswick.

Nesmith pleaded guilty last year to drug trafficking, but he insisted he wasn't going to snitch on any co-conspirators, consistent with the tattoo of a zipper above his lips, said Assistant U.S. Attorney Greg Gilluly.

In November, a federal judge added another life sentence for Nesmith for orchestrating the coastal Georgia drug network. This sentence must be served consecutively to the state life sentence.

While much of the U.S. remained in their homes during the height of the COVID pandemic, Nesmith ordered a group of women, supervised by Byrd, to make regular trips to Atlanta to pick up one to three kilos of meth and drive it nearly five hours southeast to Brunswick.

Byrd eventually realized Nesmith sold her a dream of a happy life together that would never materialize.

Guns seized by the FBI from a south Georgia drug ring.

She questioned why he remained in charge, while she did all the work he couldn't do from prison. She decided to make a bold move — a rare power grab by a female in a male-dominated industry.

Byrd, who referred to herself online as "Byrd is the Word," told Nesmith she was done taking orders. She started orchestrating drug deals and directing her own female couriers.

Nesmith wanted to regain control. Agents believe he ordered men to storm Byrd's Brunswick hotel room with guns drawn. They tied her up and stole her money and drugs. Nesmith still denies doing this to the woman he still claims to love.

Instead of scaring her off, the incident deepened Byrd's resolve. She was robbed at gunpoint a second time, and this time she ordered some Gangster Disciples gang members to track down the robbers, leading to a home invasion. Byrd eventually got some of the drugs back.

Drugs and weapons seized by the FBI from a south Georgia drug ring.

She was robbed yet again, but still didn't give up her leadership position.

"A typical person might be scared off, 'OK, I'm done with this,' but she didn't back down," said the FBI's Clarke.

Byrd is a native of Waverly, a town 20 miles west of Brunswick, but she stayed on the move from one hotel to another. She hired a bodyguard to keep underlings and competitors in line. She wasn't a gang member, but used Ghost Faced Gangsters to run drugs and Gangster Disciples to serve as muscle to create an atmosphere of fear, Gilluly said.

She developed her own drug sources in Atlanta, emerging as a successful coastal "queenpin."

Byrd remained the biggest meth supplier in south Georgia for at least a year, FBI agents said.

Her stint as the boss ultimately cost her, adding more prison time as a "leadership enhancement."

Jennifer Kirkland, assistant U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Georgia, said she's haunted by the overdose deaths linked to the coastal Georgia drug ring, including a mother who died while holding her child.

In January, a judge sentenced her to serve 27 years in federal prison, where parole is not an option.

Byrd had written the judge a 10-page letter asking for leniency.

"She's not remorseful," said lead prosecutor Jennifer Kirkland. "When you read her letter, it's so clear. It's nine pages of her blaming someone else."

'You'll never know just how much I love you'

Rebecca Cain, 31, took this selfie with her miracle baby, son Connor just hours before she died from an overdose while holding him.

Rebecca Elizabeth Cain nestled her toddler to her chest on Sept. 2, 2021, collapsed on her bed and died.

Hours earlier, the 31-year-old Columbus, Georgia, native made one final post to Facebook, a selfie smiling with her son, her miracle child after miscarriages.

"You're my saving grace and strength to do everything I do for us! You'll never know just how much I love you, little boy," she told her son in her post.

Hours later, at 3:30 a.m., she died holding him.

Cain had struggled with addiction but was just a few days away from entering rehab and had already signed the paperwork, said her sister, Jody Nordwall.

Cain, known as "Becca," could envision a healthier future and was taking college classes to become a nurse caring for babies in a hospital neonatal intensive care unit. But she died of an accidental fentanyl overdose.

The mother's death haunts Kirkland.

"That's really what keeps me up at night," the assistant U.S. Attorney said, fighting back tears. "She was going to go to rehab and they didn't have a bed.

"People don't realize this drug is so addictive. She was swimming with weights on her, and she was never going to reach the surface."

Cain's boyfriend, Jon Dillon Screen, 32, of Brunswick, gave her the dose that killed her in Darien, a small town 17 miles north of Brunswick. Police found him near Cain's body holding their young son.

On April 4, a federal judge sentenced Screen to serve 20 years in prison for drug trafficking, his culpability intensified by a "death enhancement" because he supplied the fatal doses to his girlfriend and a man who died of an overdose.

'Bloodlines'

Gang-affiliation symbols painted on a table and found during an FBI investigation into a large-scale drug network.

This case illustrates the growing reach of the Ghost Face Gangsters, initially just a prison gang based in Cobb County, a suburb of Atlanta.

Also known as GFG, the gang started two decades ago with seven white supremacist founders, creating the "seven pillars."

Now, there are two "bloodlines" — one for whites only and the other that accepts other races, Gilluly said.

"They join forces to make money," the prosecutor said.

The gang has expanded and now has more than 5,000 members in and out of prisons throughout Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, South Carolina and North Carolina and Alabama, according to the FBI.

Inside prison, the gang specializes in finding ways to sneak in contraband, including corrupting guards and ordering associates on the outside to throw "footballs," packages of drugs and cellphones, over prison fences, Gilluly said. They'll use brown packages thrown in areas of dirt or green to blend in with the grass as camouflage.

The Brunswick case also exemplifies another key cartel strategy — partnering with American street gangs. In Mexico, cartels frequently use violence, including decapitations and acid baths, to rule by fear. In the U.S., they don't want to draw attention from agents, so they let American gangs serve as enforcers to collect debts and discourage thefts and cooperation with police.

'America's Most Wanted'

One drug ring suspect went on the run in Mexico and landed on the TV show "America's Most Wanted."

Gregory, the Glynn County lieutenant, said he was both nervous and excited to participate in the show, asking viewers for help finding fugitive David Young.

Some news outlets in the U.S. and Mexico wrote about the episode, also featuring an FBI wanted poster.

Young, a convicted felon, teamed with another man to do their own drug run in Atlanta in April 2021, but they were stopped by police in Soperton at a gas station in a blacked-out SUV. Both men had active state warrants. The officer found meth and a sword.

When Young got out of the local jail, he went on the run, FBI agents said.

First, he spent time in Puerto Peňasco, a popular beach town frequented by Arizona residents on vacation. Then, he moved to Hermosillo, a city in the state of Sonora, finding a job at a call center.

One of his co-workers recognized Young from an FBI wanted poster, broadcast in news reports, and told her friend, who tipped off Mexico police. Mexican police told the FBI attaché.

Mexican police conducted surveillance on the house where he was living and arrested him when he walked outside.

The FBI teamed with Arizona border liaison officers and a bureau legal attaché in Mexico to ask for help from Mexican officials to find and arrest Young and bring him to the border, Clarke said.

FBI agents then escorted Young to an Arizona jail, and he had an initial hearing before a judge. Then, they transferred him to Georgia. He pleaded not guilty during an April hearing.

Young had been hiding in Mexico when more than 200 federal agents teamed with local and state police for a widespread takedown at dozens of locations in January 2023.

Kirkland, the assistant U.S. Attorney, headed to the command center at 4 a.m., surprised as she watched bright blue lights on police cars lit up the night sky. Officers were in pursuit of two suspects who led them on a 30-minute chase. They learned you don't get very far when you drive toward the coast on the lone roadway leading into town. They ended up turning around at the causeway and were soon surrounded by police.

Kirkland remembers watching a series of monitors as other arrests unfolded. She saw orange figures, exposing suspects' hiding spots inside houses detected by drones with infrared capabilities. Most were arrested without a fight. However, one man barricaded himself and his girlfriend in his home in the McRae-Helena area during a police standoff. A SWAT team waited on the periphery until a crisis negotiator convinced the man to drop his assault rifle on his living room floor.

During the investigation, agents seized more than 60 guns.

"Our objective was to combat the fentanyl prevalence and overdose in the region," Clarke said.

After agents and police toppled this drug ring, there was a 50% drop in overdose calls related to fentanyl in the region, the FBI supervisor said.

"It's not a question of 'why Brunswick?'" Gregory said of the small town's large drug ring.

"I believe there is a group in every area across America because of the demand."