Carlos sprinted through Nuevo Laredo pistol in one hand and he clenched the patch that he tore off in the other. He would not lose it. If someone mugged him. They could mug hs clothes. His shoes. His shirt or the gun. But not this patch!

His legs were flying he had never run so fast in his entire life. Not from muggers, thieves, or let alone cops.

Carlos just ran and ran and ran. He ran to where ever his gut told him and didn't dare ask for directions. He followed the signs. Trying to make his way around Nuevo Laredo to the river.

The Rio Grande. That single border.

Carlos felt the grass blades hit his knees and he stumbled catching himself. He didn't know where he was. He had been running around for hours and hours in the dark. He clenched the patch which was went from his sweaty hands. He hadn't lost it. He hadn't even gotten a good look at it.

Carlos stopped feeling his feet hit water and he jumped back falling when he heard a megaphone shout.

"Stay out of the water! You are at the American border! Stay out of the water!", it yelled. The megaphone was a long ways down but it was loud enough to reach Carlos.

A few moments later there came, "Thank you for returning to your country".

Carlos could hear dogs barking from the other side. There was America. He gasped he had made it to the border. He had made it to the Rio Grande. On the other side there was Texas. Laredo, Texas.

Carlos looked around. He couldn't see anything really. That's when a flashlight caught his eye. A border patrol officer.

Carlos waved trying to get the man's attention with his arms. But no response. The officer kept walking not noticing. Carlos kept trying frantically to get his attention.

He cupped his hands over his mouth, "¡Oye! ¡Tú! Usted con la linterna!", (Hey! You! You with the flashlight!)

The officer turned stopping hearing this and traversed his flashlight over Carlos blinding him for a second but he didn't catch Carlos.

Carlos shouted again this time louder and waving, "¡Oye! ¡Oye! ¡Aqui! ¡Aqui! ¡Aqui! ¡Oye!" (Hey! Hey! Over here! Over here! Over here! Hey!)

The officer stopped and put the flashlight right on Carlos blinding hm again and stared. Carlos turned his head shielding his eyes. The officer could barely see him.

What he could see was the gun.

Carlos saw him back up and he looked at the pistol. Carlos tossed it away shouting again. This time getting more specific. He was frantic. He was desperate. Why wasn't the officer listening to him?!

"¡Oye! ¡Oye! ¡Espere! ¡Espere! ¡Espere! Su oficial! Katherine Klein! ¡Ella está viva! ¡Ella está viva! Tengo su parche! Tengo su parche! ¡Ver! ¡Ver!", shouted Carlos. (Hey! Hey! Wait! Wait! Wait! Your officer! Katherine Klein! She's alive! She's alive! I have her patch! I have her patch! See! See! )

Carlos was waving like a maniac trying to get this guy's attention. But he couldn't see the officer anymore. He could only see the light. It was just standing there...had he mistook the light for a person? Had he just done that for nothing?

Carlos dropped his hands breathing heavily. He stumbled sitting down at the water's edge. He stared dumbfoundedly at the water and the very distant stretch of four hundred meters and then the dark outline of the other border shoreline.

A lump formed in his throat and tears built up in his eyes. That was when his head snapped down stream when he heard the sound of a motor coming towards him. A large light was traveling over the shoreline as the amphibious boat stayed relatively in the middle of the river not getting too close.

The light stopped on Carlos and the three gentlemen with large guns looked at him. Carlos could see them. They were huge. Their sleeves were rolled up and they looked like highly trained personnel.

The one thing that stood out to Carlos though was that their patches said American Border Patrol.

Carlos stood.

"Hold it", warned one of the men.

Though Carlos couldn't understand english he could tell that per the tone of voice meant the gentlemen were cautious and their voice demanded to be listened to.

Carlos looked at each of them and swallowed nodding and sat back down in the grass slowly blinking at the light.

Another officer spoke this time in spanish, "Señor, ¿Dijiste que sabe oficial de Klein?", asked the officer. (Senor, did you say you know officer Klein)

Carlos swallowed and nodded trying his best to be respectful to the man. He didn't want to screw up his chance.

"Sí señor, sé Katherine Klein ... Tengo su parche aquí. ¿Ver?", asked Carlos holding it out. (Yes senor, I know Katherine Klein...I have her patch right here. See?)

The officers looked at one another. They pulled over checking to see if anyone else was around. One man took the patch in his hands and turned it over handing it to the next.

"It's one of our own", said the officer.

The other two nodded. They looked at one another and then at Carlos.

Carlos swallowed. He felt inferior to these men. With their huges stature and uniforms that looked so professional. This was real. Carlos was sitting in front of more members of the American Border Patrol.