LAWSON AND PEREZ RESUMED THEIR WORK IN LAREDO AND FOCUSED ON wrapping up the case. They still hoped to get their fugitives in Mexico, but they knew their chances would be slim unless the men slipped back across the river into the States.
But two months after José’s guilty verdict, Perez received a text early in the morning on July 15 that gave her some hope. A source in Mexico reported that Miguel Treviño had been arrested. Perez quickly shared her news with Lawson. They were cautiously optimistic but also doubted it was true. In the past, there had been other reports claiming Miguel had been caught, but he always managed to slip away, much to the embarrassment of law enforcement on both sides of the river. Still, throughout the morning the chatter grew louder along the border, all saying the same thing—Miguel Treviño had been captured. They began to hope it might be true.
By late afternoon, they were starting to believe it was another false rumor when an official law enforcement bulletin was sent out in an email to the Laredo RA. Lawson and Perez opened the email and saw a photo of a man surrounded by soldiers on a dirt road, his hands cuffed behind his back. They recognized the dark, menacing eyes. It was Miguel Treviño. According to the email, he’d been arrested early that Monday morning on a deserted highway outside Nuevo Laredo. He’d been traveling with his accountant and a bodyguard in his silver pickup when a navy helicopter filled with soldiers carrying high-caliber rifles had cut them off on the road. Treviño was carrying loads of ammo, several weapons, and $2 million in cash in case he had to bribe the military or law enforcement that weren’t already on his payroll. Maybe he had tried to buy his way out this time too, like so many times before. But this time it hadn’t worked. Miguel’s number had come up. Maybe he’d become too much of a liability, too volatile for the real men who moved Mexico to control. The soldiers arrested him without firing a shot.
A man considered by many to be one of the worst mass murderers in Mexican history was finally on his way to a jail cell in Mexico City. He’d risen to the top of the criminal underworld on a pile of bodies. Miguel had eluded them, but Lawson and Perez could still feel pride that his legacy would no longer be the Lexington ranch, the racing championships and expensive bloodlines. It would be mass graves and barrels of ash—these would be the only remnants of Miguel Treviño’s legacy.
Later in the day, when the story broke in the news and they saw more photographs and video of Miguel being escorted by military men, their faces covered with black masks, toward a waiting helicopter, they knew there was no way the kingpin would escape this time. His face puffy and covered in red welts, he was no longer the slender killer he’d once been. Wearing a black polo shirt and military fatigues, he looked worn and out of shape, but his eyes still burned with the same intensity. For the first time in years, the two agents felt like the target on their backs had been removed.
As the day came to a close, Lawson, Perez, and the rest of the violent crimes squad went to a nearby bar to celebrate. Raul Perdomo raised a shot glass of tequila in the air and the others hoisted their shot glasses in a toast to Lawson and Perez. Then they drank to the end of Miguel’s criminal empire.