Charles Bennett had chosen not to go into the office early. He sat waiting in his den for confirmation from Serrano that his men had completed their task the night before. The drug lord would call with the details then fax him a photo of the man as proof the deed had been accomplished.

An unfamiliar case of nerves had him in its grip. Not used to being at the mercy of others or in a situation where he had lost control, he was distressed it happened here. The entire debacle distracted ...