Banks of the Rio GrandeS
hake was shouldered tight on Manny Chavez, peeking through the cane stalks closer to the track that ran parallel to the river. It was 0140 and they were watching a Border Patrol vehicle that was shining a spotlight across the Rio Grande and onto the brush-covered banks on the Mexican side. Mike Stokey was behind them, rechecking the waterproofing of the gear in their rucksacks.
“Good to go when you’re ready,” he whispered and crawled through the cane to get his own view of the vehicle passing their front. There were two agents—a man and a woman—in a white Humvee with green markings. The male was driving while the female handled the spotlight. Both of them were gazing intently at the river as they rolled past the cane field in low gear.
“Let them pass,” Shake whi
