Two men sit in a booth in a dimly lit restaurant. One man is a newspaper reporter, the other is an FBI agent.

Okay, the tape’s rolling. So how did you find yourself surveilling the hotel room in Phoenix?

One of our men was meeting with a big-time American dealer. Our agent was posing as a Mexican drug baron looking to unload an enormous quantity of coke. The dealer was this dirtbag who sold to kids in the Tuscon area. We’d been trying to nab him for two years.

It happens on the Summer Solstice, unfolding quietly during the night, while most people sleep peacefully. No one sees a thing. To the wary night-owls manning convenience store registers nothing is amiss. Cabbies continue to ply their trade, unloading drunks from their cars without interruption. The world’s most advanced radars and missile defense systems sleep

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