The son of meth is proving to be more evil than anything veteran state narcotics agent John Duncan could have imagined. To make a meth bust a decade ago, Duncan would hop on a charter plane, fly to a remote corner of Oklahoma and take a bumpy ride throug the trees to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Inside, he would usually find a couple of guys wearing lab coats and surrounded by expensive glassware. [continues 1326 words]
