"Hell, I’d kill Jesus Christ for a thousand dollars!" Shep growled as he spit out of the car window. Ruby, Shep’s 55-year-old girlfriend, had just asked me to find someone to murder a witness in an upcoming federal case. I had to think fast!

The ATF Agent lay battered, bruised, bleeding and unconscious on the dusty country road. Some of his blood-soaked, tattered clothing still clung to the four-strand barbed wire fence.

The three moonshiners had refused to stop when the Agent attempted to arrest them as they left a still. They attempted to run him down and he jumped on the running board as they passed. They beat him about the head with a tire tool, crashed through a locked gate, and dragged him for 100 yards against a barbed wire fence.

When he could hold on no longer, he was run over by the rear wheels of the truck, but not before marking all three moonshiners with five .38 caliber wad-cutter bullets.

Now it became my job to apprehend these violent men and make an airtight case to convict them.