The two veteran Chicago police officers were sent to the Ida B. Wells public housing complex to work undercover and catch drug dealers. But what Shannon Spalding and Daniel Echeverria found was nothing their bosses wanted to know about, the officers allege in a whistle-blower lawsuit filed Thursday in federal court.

The two officers, according to the lawsuit, discovered that colleagues on the police force were shaking down drug dealers and framing innocent people. But when they told their supervisors, they were told to "disregard" the wrongdoing. And when, as a last resort, they went to the FBI with their claims, high-ranking police officials labeled them "rats" and retaliated against them by putting them in do-nothing jobs.

"This is what will happen to you if you go against sworn personnel," Spalding said in an interview at her lawyers' office. "If you don't want a code of silence, you don't treat officers like this. ... It's cost us everything. My career is over. ... Nobody wants to work with me anymore."

"I almost feel punished for doing the right thing," Echeverria added.

With the lawsuit, Spalding, who has been with the department for 16 years , and Echeverria, a 13-year veteran, made public their previously unknown role in the FBI investigation that led to corruption charges against two colleagues, Sgt. Ronald Watts and Officer Kallatt Mohammed. Mohammed pleaded guilty to extorting payoffs from heroin and crack dealers and was sentenced last week to 18 months in prison. Watts has pleaded not guilty and is awaiting trial.

The lawsuit was filed as high-ranking Chicago police officers have been forced to answer questions at an unrelated federal trial about the so-called code of silence culture inside the department and whether it discourages officers from reporting wayward colleagues. That trial involves allegations that officers tried to protect Officer Anthony Abbate after he brutally assaulted a female bartender while he was off-duty and drunk.

According to the lawsuit, which names the city and a dozen high-ranking officers as defendants, Spalding and Echeverria said that, for all their efforts, they were removed from their narcotics unit assignment and shuttled around the department to lesser jobs far from their homes and at bad hours. At one point, they alleged, they were stuck inside a small office at the police academy for more than two months without any duties.

Spalding said she was once approached by an FBI officer about a decade ago asking if she had evidence that Watts was corrupt. It wasn't until late 2006 or early 2007 when the two officers were working in the narcotics unit in the Wentworth District that they learned of the alleged corruption, they said.

Echeverria said he was skeptical at first but heard the allegations from so many informants and other sources that he came to see them as credible. When he and Spalding reported the allegations to their supervisors, they learned they were common knowledge but were told to "disregard" them, they alleged.

According to the lawsuit, a number of high-ranking officers, including several commanders, discouraged them from informing on officers and ignored their information. Frustrated with the department, they walked into the offices of the FBI and told their story. They said they believed they were doing the right thing. What's more, they said, a former internal affairs chief had promised them their work on the undercover investigation would lead to promotions and coveted assignments.

"At the end of the day, we're officers. It's information someone has to do something about," Spalding said. "Even if it's drug dealers or people from the projects, they deserve to be protected."

The two alleged that when supervisors learned of their role in the undercover investigation, they called them "rats" and passed along that sensitive information to others in the department. When they complained to supervisors about the alleged retaliation, one told them, "Look, everyone is against you, so you don't want to piss me off," they alleged.

Another told them, "Sometimes you have to turn a blind eye" to wrongdoing, according to the lawsuit.

Spalding and Echeverria said they look back on their decision to investigate colleagues with a mix of pride and great regret.

"Had I known then what I know now," Spalding said as her voice trailed off.

asweeney@tribune.com smmills@tribune.com