here was something about the Dodge Durango that roused the deputy’s suspicions. It sped up. It slowed down. It veered to the center and off the road, kicking up clouds of caliche. It bounced a little more than it should.
Kinney County Sheriff’s Deputy Rolando Escobar followed at a distance, waiting for details from dispatch on the vehicle’s license plates. Then it took off.
“Be careful of that driver,” Escobar radioed to the other deputies joining the pursuit. “Looks like he is reaching down for something.”
Minutes later, the suspected smuggler’s vehicle came to a sudden stop — Escobar’s cruiser nearly crashing into it from behind. The doors swung open and the driver leaped over a four-foot fence. Several passengers darted off into the moonless night. A pepper ball exploded. Deputies tackled two men and quickly arrested three others.
Smuggling in this rural stretch of Texas picks up at twilight, when Escobar’s shift begins. Over the next 24 hours, he’d join two other high-speed chases, respond to one crash, and arrest more than 10 migrants and two suspected smugglers.
Young women crammed into trunks. A Mexican couple fleeing violence. Men who tried to run but gave up rather than get lost in vast ranch lands without water.
