A twisted trail of betrayal and greed. Where would it lead? I'm Lester Holt and this is

Dateline.

I just got home and I opened the door and I had to get on the floor.

His torso was laying in the hallway and a pool of blood.

I didn't believe it. Did he hit his head? Did he have a heart attack?

I said something's wrong, something's wrong. I think in the back of my mind I already knew

it wasn't and now I fell back.

There's two bullets in his body. Two different calibers.

Wait a minute, two guns. Does that mean two shooters? One could argue that.

There was a seething hatred. There was some planning at work here.

For quite some time it was a game. Everybody else was basically collateral damage.

I just destroyed my heart. I'm angry now and I was never a very angry person.

Here's Keith Morrison with The Secret Heroes.

It was a warm Colorado morning on the right side of summer. The road beneath his wheels,

the vast blue canopy above renewed possibilities in his heart.

Randy Baker recovering heart patients, cruised through the sun to the job he loved.

Better now, back to sweet routine.

So why this morning fatigue?

Randy felt the warm day a wrap his big body like a sleeping pill. He struggled to lift

his lead in eyelids. So tired. So tired.

What was told to me was that he probably fell asleep and swirved.

It could have been catastrophic. It wasn't. His Pontiac took a ding but the cops who responded

...