Ramirez gave the driver a careful patdown and, finding no other weapons on him, escorted him back to the Border Patrol cruiser and directed him into the back seat, locking him in there but deciding not to place him in handcuffs, given the DFS badge. He stood about six feet tall, trim and lanky, and dressed like a well-heeled cowboy, with nice boots and well-fitting clothes. Ramirez eyed the driver more closely now. The "small gun" turned out to be a loaded AR-15 assault rifle. On Ramirez' orders, the driver opened the door and walked around to the rear to pop the trunk. The driver made no attempt to keep the lie going and admitted that, sure, he had a small gun in the trunk. No weapons? You sure about that?įoto: David Ramirez (r) John Moore/Getty Images Rachel Mendelson/Insider But peering into the Marquis, Ramirez could see a box of ammo sitting on the passenger seat, clear as day. Ramirez asked the man if he had any weapons, and the driver said no, no guns. But he couldn't be sure the man wasn't a cop. The DFS was notorious for its connections to drug traffickers, and its agents were known to hand out fake badges to the smugglers they worked with. For Ramirez, this didn't prove the man was a cop. The other document identified the driver as an agent of the Federal Security Directorate, or DFS, a powerful - and phantasmagorically corrupt - branch of Mexico's federal law enforcement. One was a border-crossing card, issued by the Immigration and Naturalization Service, that allowed Mexicans living close to the border to cross back and forth for errands and jobs. With the trainee standing back, Ramirez holstered his revolver and requested the suspect's documents. Speaking in Spanish through the rolled down window, the driver had an easy-does-it, friendly manner. The trainee, armed with a shotgun, mirrored the more experienced agent and sidled toward the car from the passenger side. His training - and his survival instinct - kicked in to guide him. The ambient sounds of the desert night, the buzz of insects and snuffling of wild javelinas, receded into the background. The thermostat hovered around 95 degrees and the night air hung heavy like a blanket.Īs Ramirez approached the Mercury from the driver-side door, his heart rate quickened. It had been dark for hours, but in these parts even after midnight in late spring can be mind-bendingly hot. 38-caliber service revolver, holding it at a downward angle. He radioed ahead for agents to be on the lookout, and turned his focus to the Mercury.Ĭarefully opening his door, Ramirez climbed out of the cruiser, unclasped the snap on his holster, and drew his. But he also knew that at the end of that road, just before the international port of entry, was a Border Patrol station. Ramirez knew it was a feint designed to let the other driver - and whatever cargo he might be carrying - get away. This went on for a while, five minutes maybe.įinally, with the pickup truck out of sight, the driver of the Mercury eased to the side of the road and crunched to a stop. The Mercury wasn't going that fast, 60, maybe 70 miles-per-hour, but it acted as a sort of rearguard, allowing the driver of the pickup truck to put more and more distance between himself and the Border Patrol agents giving chase. Ramirez spun the cruiser around once again and sped off in pursuit, flashing his red-and-blues to signal the drivers to stop. They were headed south, toward Presidio, and toward Mexico. A late-model pickup truck went first, and, following closely behind, a big-body, white Mercury Grand Marquis. So, in the passenger seat sat his partner for the evening, a trainee agent learning the ropes as they cruised along this ribbon of pebbles, dust, and potholes masquerading as a state highway.Īs Ramirez maneuvered his patrol car, two pairs of headlights came on, two engines rumbled to life, and two cars peeled out. But at a posting as remote as southwest Texas, where only a handful of agents were stationed at the time, that qualified him to train the new guy. It was May 1985, and Ramirez had only been with the Border Patrol for two and a half years.
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