Argentina remembers the ‘Heist of the Century,’ 20 years on

January 13, 2006 was not an ordinary Friday in San Isidro. As the afternoon sun reflected off the mansions of Acassuso, on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, a perfectly calm and absolutely confident Fernando Araujo gave the final nod to the rest of his team to put their plan into motion.

Araujo was no ordinary criminal. He was a visual artist and experienced jiu-jitsu instructor. He saw the financial system as a blank canvas, on which he would paint his ultimate masterpiece.

At 12.20pm, following Araujo’s instructions, a group of armed men entered a branch of Banco Río, located at the corner of Perú and Libertador streets.

The police response was swift. Within minutes, some 300 police officers were on the scene – first responders, snipers from the Grupo Halcón elite police tactical unit and patrol cars that sealed off the surrounding streets.

Within moments, the episode was being broadcast live by the news media. The entire country froze in front of their televisions. For many Argentines, memories of the 1999 'Ramallo massacre' – when a botched bank siege ended in three deaths – loomed large, heightening fears that the stand-off could end in tragedy.

Inside the bank, the criminals staged a kind of theatrical show. Luis Mario Vitette Sellanes, the so-called “Hombre del Traje Gris” (“Man in the Grey Suit”), assumed the role of negotiator with an eloquence that unsettled police mediators.

He sung, asked for pizzas and soft drinks and struck up a surreal dialogue with the voices on the other end of the phone.

Meanwhile, below ground, the silence in the bank was broken only by the screech of steel.

 

‘Boquete de los Dioses’

While Vitette kept the police distracted with his performance on the upper floor, Araujo and two others – Sebastián García Bolster, known as ‘El Ingeniero’ (“The Engineer”), and Alberto de la Torre – worked underground.

They were not digging at that moment. The dirty work had been done over months.

The team had designed an 18-metre-long tunnel, connecting the bank’s vault to the local storm-drain system.

The technical challenge had been monumental.

They constructed a manual dam system to raise the water level in the drain for navigation.

They used inflatable boats with outboard motors, modified to run silently, to transport their stolen loot.

And they created ‘La Poderosa,’ a hydraulic tool invented by Bolster that allowed safety-deposit boxes to be opened in seconds, without the need for explosives.

 

Escape through the tunnels

By around 4pm, the authorities believed they were making progress. The police negotiator thought a surrender was close, but the criminals were soon slipped down through a hidden opening behind a cupboard into the sewers below.

Below ground, they had emptied more than 140 safety-deposit boxes. They loaded approximately 80 kilos of jewellery and millions of dollars onto the rafts.

The gang navigated through the darkness of the storm tunnels towards the Río de la Plata, soon reaching a specific manhole where a van with a hole cut into its floor was waiting for them a few blocks away.

Several hours later, shortly after 7pm, the Grupo Halcón finally received the order to storm the building and entered through the windows.

The bank was eerily silent.

The 23 hostages were unharmed.

The weapons left behind by the criminals were fakes – toys that could have passed for real from a distance.

The plan was perfect. But loyalty was not.

 

Betrayal by a partner

For several weeks after the robbery, the gang lived quietly and lavishly, convinced they had pulled off the perfect crime.

Pressure on the authorities to find those responsible, however, was fierce from the outset.

Eventually, the group was arrested, months later. Not because of fingerprints, genetic tracing or technical errors, but due to the anger of a betrayed partner.

The police breakthrough came courtesy of Alicia Di Tullio, De la Torre’s partner. After discovering that her husband planned to flee to Paraguay with his share of the loot and a new lover, she decided to turn on the gang.

Between 2010 and 2013, all five men were convicted and sentenced to prison terms ranging from seven to more than 20 years, though each ultimately served reduced sentences or regained their freedom through legal benefits.

 

Search for stolen loot

The total haul was officially estimated at around US$18 million to US$19 million, though some investigators believe the true value, including jewellery, may have been significantly higher.

Argentina’s courts managed to recover only a fraction of that sum, roughly US$1.5 million.

The rest of the money lingers like a ghost in the informal economy or in hidden bank accounts.

Meanwhile, the protagonists have lived off their notoriety, giving interviews and advising film and television productions about their own feat. Feature films have been made, starring some of Argentina’s biggest actors.

The Banco Río branch in Acassuso no longer exists as such, but the myth of 'El Robo del Siglo' and the men who escaped underground, beneath the feet of the 300 police officers waiting above them, remains the most fascinating open wound in Argentina’s criminal history.

 

 

The robbery that stunned a nation — what became of the protagonists of an amazing criminal caper

 

Key protagonists

– The plan was not born in a prison cell, but in an artist’s studio. Fernando Araujo was a man who did not smoke, did not drink and practised jiu-jitsu. His premise was simple: no blood spilled would mean a lighter sentence; ingenuity creates legend.

– For months, Sebastián García Bolster, better known as ‘El Ingeniero’, worked on designing a tunnel that would connect the storm drain to the bank’s basement. He installed a dam to navigate against the current and used silent hydraulic tools to pierce reinforced concrete.

– While Luis Mario Vitette Sellanes entertained the police negotiator. He even played along when one of the hostages had a birthday, with pizza orders and a bit of celebration to keep tensions low. Meanwhile, the gang were emptying more than 140 safety-deposit boxes below ground. 

When the police finally burst into the bank, they found only plastic guns, imitation jewellery and a note that became famous: “En barrio de ricachones, sin armas ni rencores, es sólo plata y no amores.” (more or less, “in a neighbourhood of rich folk, without weapons or grudges: it’s only money – not love.”

 

Where are they now?

After the collapse of the code of silence, the members were convicted and served varying sentences. Today, in 2026, their lives have taken different paths.

Fernando Araujo (the mastermind): Perhaps the one who capitalised most successfully on the heist. He turned audacity into intellectual property. Living in Palermo, he works in audiovisual content production and oversees international projects seeking to bring his story to Hollywood.

Luis Mario Vitette Sellanes (the negotiator): Now based in Uruguay, his homeland, after being expelled from Argentina. The public face of the robbery. The owner of a jewellery shop in San José de Mayo, Vitette is a media personality who uses social media to debate criminal law and security, always clarifying that he is a “former criminal” with everything now in order.

Sebastián García Bolster (the engineer): True to his technical profile, he never sought fame. He returned to his native northern suburbs, where he runs a high-end boat and engine repair workshop. He avoids cameras and interviews, hoping his neighbours forget that he designed the system used to move the loot.

Rubén Alberto de la Torre (Beto): The first to be arrested. After leaving prison, he tried acting in a handful of productions and now gets by on businesses linked to the textile and mechanical sectors. Seen as “old school”, he maintains a code of silence broken only to criticise the betrayal of his former wife.

José Julián Zalloechevarría (the driver): Known as ‘El Paisa’, he played a key role in logistics. He waited in the van above the manhole, which had a hole cut in the floor to haul up the loot. After serving his sentence, Zalloechevarría reinvented himself legally and commercially. He qualified as a lawyer and now runs his own businesses, distancing himself entirely from criminal logistics. He retains the respect of his former accomplices for having “held firm” under judicial pressure without breaking.