Nightmare on the Border 2:00 a.m. on a Tuesday night. I’m sitting in an 18 ft. aluminum boat, “Boat 1,” tied to a tree on the U.S. side of the Rio Grande River across from the Mexican town of Reynosa swapping stories with my partner and trying to stay awake. It’s our fourth night on the river; two hours into a twelve-hour shift. “Boat 2” is about 200 yards upriver on the other side of “The Peninsula,” a landmark I was told was THE hot spot for illegal activity coming in from Mexico. Nothing of note has happened in our ...