They came upon Malone and Davis, talking quietly in the shade of a massive black oak, a few yards from the doorway.
Davis looked at them with a slight smile. “Looks like you two got your revenge. Good work. If you’re looking for the dark hunter car, Alex, I think it’s down in the garage.” He pointed to a large metal building about a hundred yards down the valley.
Manuel looked at Davis, one of his heroes as a legend in the POU and the whole border patrol. Less than a few hours ago, he’d been completely in awe of the slender dark man. Now he could greet him on close to equal footing. That was a strange but empowering sensation. It brought home, as nothing else had, that there were going to be two new names on the invisible roll of POU heroes, men who’d taken out an appalling enemy and lived to tell the tale.