Once Commander Maning announced a target, the surveillance team would fan out, four to seven men. They would watch the target, sometimes for days, from across an alley or the stoop of a corner store. They would listen when plans were made, befriend neighbors, and note when children came home. Sometimes the surveillance men would look through windows or knock on the door to purchase a sachet of meth—no problem, no worries, here you go, the folded hundred-peso bill just a quiet deal between friends.
