"We're slowing down."

Dan jerked awake and pushed the button on the flashlight. Sleep has seemed the best way to pass the time. He needed it. He sneezed violently three times in a row, before struggling to sit up.

"It's gonna be rush hour at the border. Long lines this time of day, even with the extra staff Trump put down here," Sky continued.

"Good, gives us a better chance to get the hell away from this truck. Border Patrol might think we're just a couple of addicts wanting to come home. As long as they don't think we've got any MJ, we could get lucky."

"I still think we need to tell them about this truck. He must a couple of tons of marijuana in here."

"Compromise. If we can find the load inspector before we head into the main office, then we tell him. Otherwise we smoked our last joint before we broke camp to walk back. We've been back country hiking in the Baja. We tell them about the network thing and give them the contract. Be up front about it, and we shouldn't have any trouble."

Dan's distrust of the Border Patrol was legendary. He had a ten month fight to get the dog he'd adopted in Iraq back to the USA.

"He's stopping. Must be in the line up."

"Yup, we're leaving your pack in here Dan, I've got the rest of the water, and the bedrolls if we need them."

"Out now?"

Sky nodded as they heard the tell tale sound of air brakes huffing as the truck halted. He pushed the door open, and Dan took his first breath of fresh air. Even with the exhaust of dozens of semis idling as they waited to snake their way through the crossing, it was better than the skunk like stench in the trailer. Half crouched they ran down into the ditch and began walking toward the long building sitting beside the clogged lanes.

When they made it to the asphalt, they hugged the yellow lane dividers and continued.

"Did you see anything on the door of that truck? A company name or anything?" Dan asked.

"Santo Palo Camionaje."

"The thing was filthy, but I think it was dark blue under all that dust." Dan said.

"Besides, the trailer is blue too, it's easy to spot. Stands out like a sore thumb with all these white and aluminium ones."

"Look," Dan pointed.

Sky turned to see what he was pointing at.

"Must be some sort of official. He's wearing a reflective vest."

"Hit me vest. I hated the suckers when I was on a pothole crew one summer. I swear drivers see them and aim right for you." Dan said.

"Doesn't much matter, what it is, let's go talk to him. He's got a radio."

"You run up. I'll keep coming as fast as I can." He waved Sky onward. Maybe his buddy would have better luck. Some how Sky always seemed to get the best out of people.