Minnesota Woman Charged Under Kingpin Statute Sentenced to 26 Years – Twin Cities

FARGO, N.D. – Calling it a “heartbreaking” case, Chief Judge Peter Welte sentenced Macalla “Kayla” Knott to 26 years and nine months in federal prison on Friday, Jan. 3 for her role leading a major crime ring. drug trafficking. .

Government prosecutors recommended the sentence, which is below the federal mandatory minimum sentencing guideline of life in prison for a continuing violation of a criminal enterprise, known as the kingpin statute.

The Quentin N. Burdick U.S. Courtroom in downtown Fargo was full and particularly packed on the defendant’s side of the gallery, where more than 25 of Knott’s friends and family were squeezed into three benches. On the other side sat nearly a dozen law enforcement officials and federal investigators on the sprawling case, considered Operation Unfinished Business II, which stretched from Mexico to several states in the Upper Midwest and has taken years to investigate and prosecute.

When Knott, dressed in a bright green jail uniform and escorted by U.S. Marshals, entered the courtroom at 9 a.m., she immediately seemed delighted to see the dozens of familiar faces present, raising their hands to their faces, smiling widely and drawing the attention of several to say hello and thank them for coming. The woman from St. Cloud, Minnesota, also seemed to recognize several of the researchers and gave them a friendly wave.

Knott’s personality, described by prosecutors, defense attorneys and character witnesses as “endearing” and “charming,” was on full display throughout the hearing. Knott responded to the judge’s questions with bubbly enthusiasm, although he also appeared to become emotional several times, including after seeing his family and while listening to his mother and childhood friend speak on his behalf.

It was that charisma, Assistant U.S. Attorney Chris Myers said, that allowed Knott to successfully operate such a major drug trafficking operation out of Mexico in coordination with the Sinaloa Cartel, one of the most notorious and dangerous cartels in the world.

Myers said the number of people Knott supervised in the organization was twice the number needed to charge it with ongoing criminal activity and that running the operation from a foreign country had been a “remarkable” feat.

“His charm and ability to influence and manipulate people to serve his purposes served him well,” Myers said. “She may seem immature when presenting, but she endears her to people and gives her a unique ability to get people to do what she asks.”

Myers admitted that Knott’s childhood had been difficult, but argued that “aggravating factors outweighed mitigating factors” regarding his sentence.

Tanya Martinez, Knott’s defense attorney, who argued for a lighter sentence than the government’s recommendation, agreed with Myers’ characterization of her client as endearing, but said it was not the facade he intended.

“I agree that there is an element of immaturity or perhaps more accurately naivety in her,” Martinez said. “But she wants to believe the best in people. It’s hard to be mad at her. It’s probably the skill that allowed him to survive (in Mexico). As a result, he was able to overcome difficult situations with ease.”

But, Martinez said, the “newness” of Knott’s personality (“American, blonde, blue-eyed, pretty, charming”) had a downside.

“He looked at the people in Mexico and wanted to believe the best about them, that they were in poverty and that this was the only way out of it, but eventually the cartel had it and used it,” Martínez said. And he added that Knott had sometimes come to the defense of women from cartel families when they were being mistreated.

Martinez said Knott lost control over the organization as others became involved and the numbers increased, and “his fear grew.”

“The operation got bigger and eclipsed her,” Martínez said. “And she became a pawn in it.”

While prosecutors have estimated the dollar value of the methamphetamine, fentanyl and cocaine moved into Minnesota and the Dakotas through Knott’s trafficking operation at $10 million, Martinez said Knott estimated he had only netted about $45,000. in profits during its two years operating in Mexico.

Several letters were written to the court in support of Knott’s character, and two women spoke during the hearing on his behalf: Tonya Tilleskjor, Knott’s mother, and Ashley Schlichting, a childhood friend.

Tilleskjor called his daughter a “beautiful soul” and took the blame for Knott’s entry into the drug trafficking business.

“Unfortunately it is because of me, my mother: a long story that finally ended,” Tilleskjor said. “She doesn’t deserve all that time (in prison), she wasn’t manipulating anyone. I was stuck. She didn’t go there to continue any empire. If she were a kingpin, wouldn’t there be plenty to seize? I didn’t have money or even a car. I had to send her money for rent while she was there.”

Schlichting said Knott was “longing for a family” and spent vacations and ate many meals with Schlichting’s family when they were children.

“She loves life and is very supportive of everyone. He doesn’t hold grudges against people; he probably even loves the prosecutor right now,” Schlichting said, eliciting a laugh and a nod from Knott.

Knott first refused when the judge asked her if there was anything she wanted to tell the court before he handed down her sentence, but then she said, “I wrote him a letter.”

“It’s a well-written letter,” Welte responded.

Welte began his portion of the sentencing hearing by calling the case “heartbreaking,” but adding that federal judges have very little discretion or ability to deviate from the federal code and sentencing guidelines.

“I always tell my children not to be victims of life. But you are the first person I have seen, both in my time as a practicing attorney and as a judge, who I am willing to admit might actually be something of a victim of life,” Welte told Knott, acknowledging his upbringing with parents and grandparents who trafficked drugs and their close situations when getting involved with the cartel.

Welte said it was thanks to the heroic actions of law enforcement that Knott had made it out of Mexico alive.

“They got to work on this,” he said. “His role is often seen as fearless or brave, but sometimes it evolves into heroism, and there was a lot of heroism in this case; “Much of it was not even seen or even known by this court.”

Still, Welte said, the “sad and tragic” story of Knott’s life was not completely out of his control.

“Part of this is autobiography,” he said. “You wrote part of this story. “I suspect other lives were affected or lost due to this ongoing criminal enterprise, and that needs to be taken into account.”

When Welte told Knott, who is 32, that she will probably be in her 50s when she is released, several audible sobs rose from the defendant’s side of the gallery, and U.S. Marshals and court security passed boxes of tissues around. Knott’s family and friends. Federal inmates are eligible to be released after serving 85% of their sentence.

Knott was crying as she was led out of the courtroom. He has two weeks to appeal the sentence.