The farmer in the Del Mora

We have the thermal camera in the air right now scanning the Del Mora subdivision. The bird’s flying over the suspected house and live streaming the images to us. The way it works: The thermal imaging camera picks up the heat given off by a specific source. When something is warm it comes across as a light color.

“Damn, ya think that’s our house?”

What’s Chase…HAHAHAHAH! This place is lit up brighter than New York at Christmas time! Leave it to Chase. “You think?”

With all the heat coming from that place you could warm a small continent. Every four pot plants require 1000 watt bulbs for maximum indoor growth. This guy is either major overkill or he’s got one heck of an operation.

Mickey is getting itchy. He’s pacing across the room and back. Bobby isn’t much better, he’s bouncing his knee in anticipation. Chase, Chase is his normal asinine self. As soon as we get the warrant we hit the joint—no pun intended.

We do know one thing: this raid won’t be a bust. Not with the evidence that’s lighting our screen. The last couple of raids have been hit and miss. It’s like they know we’re coming before we get there. You have no idea how frustrating it is to have adrenaline slamming through your body, excitement of knowing you’ll soon be taking one more scumbag off the earth only to raid the place and find no drugs, no money, no weapons, nothing.

That desire will be satisfied today, just as soon as that little slip of paper is in my hand. Here it comes! “Let’s lock and load!”