Chris made it across the border by bus after several hours of waiting. Six to be exact. He was posing as a tourist and not even the bus driver knew he was an actual officer. When their things were searched an officer had offered him a ride down. But Chris declined. He didn't want to get cuffed. If he went with the officer willingly it might give everything away to whatever stranger was watching.

The streets were dusty and dirty. Then again big cities were rarely actually clean. Trash was flying around in the wind as people walked passed Chris after he got off the bus. Cars were filling the streets. People were out at shops restaurants. Some on bikes with grocery bags filled with bought products.

In truth the city just seemed like an ordinary vast city. The complex highways and roadways. Sidewalks and streets signs. The huge buildings. There were also the homeless sitting on the streets just like in New York City. Some slept on cardboard pieces rather than the tough grey concrete.

Chris was careful not to stare. But in truth he couldn't help it. He had on a plain baseball cap. Light blue jeans. His tennis shoes and a tight white v-neck shirt. He had a blue hoodie tied around his waist. His sunglasses reflected as he looked around. The police station wasn't far from the bus stop.

Chris entered the building after walking up the slight set of steps. Now Chris knew that it didn't really matter anymore if he still had cover or not. Chris had wanted to get into the country as a seeming tourist headed to Mexico City. Now that he was in the country it didn't really matter. If gangs saw him working with the police then he'd just be an unfamiliar face. Either way though he was working with the law.

Whatever law there actually was in this city.

Chris pushed open the door walking inside. He went to the front desk tapping impatiently on the counter.

"How can I help you today sir?", asked the woman.

"I'm looking for Eric Martinez", he replied.

"Do you have an appointment?", asked the woman.

"Yes I do, he should be expecting me", said Chris.

"He's in a meeting right now with the task force, you'll have to wait", said the woman.

Chris almost fumed. He was sick and tired of waiting, Chris rolled his eyes and held up his badge. The woman blinked, "Are you here because of....-"

"Yes, where is he?", asked Chris impatiently.

The woman nodded, "Follow me please", she said.

Chris did follow her. He got several looks from other officers. He looked like a common guy with no uniform or form of credentials. What Chris did have was a badge. And that was enough. There were desks and men getting their gear together with large guns and heavy belts.

The woman opened a door to a room where there was murmuring and discussion heard from inside. The murmurs immediately halted and all eyes looked towards her.

"Sir this is....", her voice trailed off, she hadn't asked for his name. Neither had Chris introduced himself.

"I'm Chris Chad, I am with the Laredo Police Swat and Border Patrol Unit", he said.

The man standing looked at Chris blinking. He walked forward extending his hand and gave a firm nod, "Eric Martinez. Glad you could make it. We were just about to start", he said.

Perfect timing, thought Chris.

Eric motioned for him to pick one of the empty seats. There were three and he chose one farthest to the left at the other end of the small table. There was a white board hanging on the wall and the florescent lights filled the room brightening it. It wasn't fancy. The chairs were made of plastic and creaked when Chris sat down.

Several of the officers nodded at him acknowledging his presence and then turned to Eric Martinez as he was ready speak.

The man pushed a stack of photos forward, "Last night a boarder patrol officer was kidnapped. We are still receiving information about the incident. But from what we know so far our officer was Katherine Klein. Allegedly went missing around four a.m. this morning after radioing in a call about having received a flat tire-"

"It was at three twenty in the morning", interrupted Chris.

Eric frowned, "We received information that it was at four a.m", said Eric.

Chris shook his head, "No, four a.m. was when the FBI was notified. She went missing between three twenty and three thirty in the morning. She made the call about her flat tire at three twenty. I was on my way to help her change out the tire and evaluate the damage. The radio then went dead only with muffled sounds. At 3:30 when I got there to her car she was already more than halfway over the Rio Grande River. Then a gun fight started. I've been informed that this was premeditated, planned out. There was barbed wire, found wedged in her tire after she was forced to turn around at the dead end of the road", said Chris.

Eric thought and cleared his throat. He knew about the gunfight. He had heard about it. Two of his own officers who went to check were shot. It was only afterwards that the people close by called it in. But by then it was already too late.

"Does your department have any idea as to who?", asked Eric.

"No", replied Chris.

"Then for now we have to wait", said Eric.

"Hernandez, I want you and Frederike to go out and ask the individuals who called in the gunfight. See if they saw anything", said Eric.

"Christian, Marcos go start checking for phone calls. Any ransom note or word on the street", said Eric. The gentlemen stood.

"Hank, check to see if you can find anything with your connections. But do not, do not...give anything away", warned Eric glaring at the man.

Everyone got their things leaving and Chris stood pushing back the chair, "Hey", said Chris.

Eric looked up from shuffling papers. Chris stared at him bewildered, "What? Wait for a ransom call?", he asked stunned.

Eric sighed, "I know this is your colleague. We just don't have enough information. We don't even know what the man looks like. We don't know who he is or where. I have a whole database of suspects which will get us nowhere closer to finding officer Klein. The best we can actually hope for is a ransom call and that she is still in Nuevo Laredo", he said.

"You sound like you've quit", said Chris disgusted.

Eric clenched his jaw and pointed at Chris with the file, "Do you know what it's like here? Over half my squad quit last month. This city is controlled by Las Zetas", said Eric.

"Let me get this straight, you want me to wait? I drove five hours in a bus, went by inspection after inspection and you are telling me to wait?!", yelled Chris.

"I won't have another american officer get shot when I'm around. Besides, you don't know anything about this city. It's controlled by the gangs. I go to work everyday and go home to my family with the possibility of getting shot at. Not to mention for the past five years Las Zetas have been acquiring uniforms and the people can't tell the difference between the real cops and the fake ones!", hissed Eric.

"Well maybe it's because the real cops and the fake ones aren't so different in their dictoral brutality of the common people here", hissed Chris stepping forward.

He was much taller than Eric. Much younger too. Eric was ranging his late forties and Chris his early thirties being thirty one.

"At least we aren't the ones selling mexican police uniforms and caps", retaliated Eric.

Chris frowned. He didn't believe it. He didn't want to. But it was true in Laredo Texas there were small supply stores in town that did sell these small harmless seeming things. And per federal and consumer goods federal enforcement had no right to confiscate it. Meaning any drug cartels could just come in buy a set and come back to Mexico posing as an officer.

"Clearly you don't trust my work and colleagues. Fine. But we do this my way. You want to help, you tell me what you know. You tell me what you know about officer Klein. You tell me what you find out from your chief. But we do this my way. You don't have a choice but to trust me. My job is to get your colleague back. I can't do that if I know so little. So are you going to help me?", asked Eric.

Chris glared and he tapped Eric's chest, "I came here to help. Don't doubt that for a second. And no your right, I don't trust the people you work with. So, what do you need to know?", asked Chris hands on his hips.