Being in the FBI was the best job I could have ever asked for. My name is James Juarez I grew up in a small town on the outskirts of Oklahoma City in a small trailer park. My mom worked as a waitress and my dad worked as a garbage man. Elementary school and junior high were a horrible time in my life I was constantly picked on because I was poor. High school was no better I had no friends. I tried to make friends but everyone was too superficial. My job hunt started in my senior year of high school. Everyone else was going off to college, but not me I was headed into the work force. Mainly because I had to help support my siblings and parents. But I was not like most high school seniors I didn’t want just any job. If I was to get a job I wanted to the best in the world at it. I wanted a job that would be stable so I decided I would work for the government. The day after my high school graduation I moved to Washington D.C. The FBI headquarters is located there so I decided I would see if I could get a job. The next day I walked in and had an interview. It wasn’t like a normal job interview they had many different instruments that they used on me for psychological testing. I made it to the second round of the trial process where I had to do physical fitness tasks which I excelled at. After about six months of tests I finally got a job as a special agent. The first couple of years were very boring sitting behind a desk all day taking phone calls and doing investigative work. I finally got my break around my fifth year. I was sent to Colombia with a small group of other special agents there we met up with some agents from the DEA. We were in Colombia to look for a cocaine drug lord. I spent night and day searching for him by asking the locals and hiking around all of the known cocaine stash houses. I came across one man that had information. I brought him back to the base where I questioned him. He told me that he knew where the drug lord was. He said that he was in a small mountainous province of Colombia. The only way to get to it was by foot. A couple days pasted before I thought of a plan to see if I could catch the drug lord. My plan was simple since I was Hispanic I would pretend that I was a possible buyer from the United States who came down to Colombia looking for the best cocaine. My colleagues and I decided that this would be a sufficient plan. We took a large amount of the next month mapping everything out and making multiple plans just in case something went wrong. The day came and I started my walk to the small village it took me almost all day. When I got there I went directly to the house that I was told to go to. When I arrived at the house a man in a mask was guarding the door he patted me down and let me in without saying a word. I followed him down a flight of stairs and through a long hallway. I remember the lighting in the hallway was very poor there was only one door along the whole hallway. The door was at the end of the hallway. The guard told me to open the door as I did he smashed me over the back of the head with a blunt object knocking me out. When I woke up I was tied to a chair sitting in a room with no windows. There were five men in the room all of them had masks on so I couldn’t see their faces. They said that they knew who I was and that they were going to hold me for ransom. I knew they would never get the money from the FBI. I sat in that room all alone for a couple days before one the guards came in. I begged him to let me go but he didn’t speak English he sat on a couch looking at me over night. In the middle of the night I woke up to a large explosion that came from outside. The guard that sat on the couch jumped up and ran out of the room he left the door open I took advantage of this opportunity. I knocked the chair over that I was tied to a crawled my way to the door I made it to the door and through the hallway where I could hear American voices. It was my colleagues raiding the drug house looking for me. There was the sound of gun shots going off everywhere and the occasional grenade explosion. My good friend Dave Jones from the Bureau found me at the bottom of the stairs he cut the ropes and handed me his extra gun. We shot our way out of that house that day. I have never had a friend like that in my life. Dave and I are still in the FBI and continue to be friends and partners. I found what I wanted to do with my life not just as a job but as a career.