standing in his thermal underwear when he heard a voice say, "Don't move."

A team of ten officers had arrived, guns drawn, to make the ar- rest. The agents told Tumpati that they had a warrant and went room to room, grabbing files and computers. Tumpati's wife stood by, calmly praying, and then turned to their four-year-old daugh- ter to comfort her. "She didn't know what was going on or who these people were," Tumpati said.

Once they'd put their guns away, the agents were polite and professional. They agreed to let Tumpati walk to the car without handcuffs, suggesting that he tell his neighbors it had been a case of mistaken identity. They then took him to the local police sta- tion, where he was strip-searched and fingerprinted, and trans- ported to a federal processing center in downtown Philadelphia. Only later would he learn that he was to be tried not in Pennsylva- nia but in Minnesota.

Adam Samia, the trigger man Hunter had brought in to kill Cath- erine Lee, was—like many of Le Roux's former employees—oblivious to Le Roux's fate. He'd only ever communicated with the boss through Hunter, and after Hunter had accused him of botching the last job in the Philippines, he didn't expect to hear from either of them again. Since 2012 Samia had been back in Roxboro, North Carolina, working on his custom gun holster business with David Stillwell as if the Manila trip had never happened.

Then on November 20, 2013, a former colleague from The Company named John O'Donoghue started a chat with Samia on Facebook.

O'DONOGHUE: you hear bout Tim and Joe?

SAMIA: ... no what happen

O'DONOGHUE: read this

O'DONOGHUE: http://www.justice.gov/dea/divisions/hq/2013/ hq092713.shtml