After lunch over at my grandparent's house, they made a quick banter of jokes and got in the jeep to head back to the police station. My friend's father was taking three days off, for health reasons, and went back to their house. My friend and I went with him. We watched TV for about two hours, or so, then my friend dozed off in the couch.

I was sitting in the sofa while patting Spots in the head, when I felt a cold air blow past me. At that same time, Spots got up and ran to my friend's side, and made begging noises. The air was unusually cold and it made the hair at the back of my neck stand up. For unknown reasons, I felt sadness deep in my heart.

My friend, sound asleep, did not notice Spots. I was walking over to Spots to see what's wrong, when I heard somebody calling out my friend's father's name. I don't know how to explain this, but the voice sounded different. There was a very inhuman quality to it. As I peeked through the curtain, I was relieved to see it was his four cop buddies, in their police uniforms, standing in front of the gate. I called my friend's father and told him that his buddies are looking for him.

He, too, heard the odd voice and was on his way from the kitchen where he was making a snack for us. He opened the front door when I noticed a dark hooded figure out of the corner of my eye. This dark hooded creature has always been present through all my paranormal experiences. SI had seen it since I was little boy, so I knew right away that something went horribly wrong. I thought to myself "Oh God. NO!".

My friend's father asked his buddies what's wrong since it was unusual for them to come back from the police station so soon. All four of them stood silent. They had a very calm expression on their faces.

He repeated the question again, and was walking toward his friends. Before he could get close, his friends stood straight and gave him a salute. I could see in their faces that they were serious, and were thankful for something.

Each of them had that look in their eyes, as if they would not see their beloved "Chief" again. My friend's father stopped for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and returned a salute. The salute took longer than normal. Both sides were acknowledging each other.

My friend woke up and asked us "What are you guys doing?" Both his father and I turned to him, and when we looked at where the four were standing they were already gone. His father told my friend, "It was nothing" and made his way to his room a bit teary eyed.

About 15 minutes after seeing his friends, the phone rang. My friend's father hurriedly picked up the phone. One could tell that it was bad news, since his facial expression turned from worried to sad. He talked for a couple of minutes and he put the phone down.

He took a deep breath, and told us that it was his station chief who called. He was informed that a couple of his subordinates had been ambushed by suspected hit men from the drug cartel about AN HOUR AND A HALF ago. His heart sank when the chief told him the names of the fallen officers. It was his four buddies! They had been gunned down while driving back to the police station. They were rushed to the hospital by onlookers, but were proclaimed as "Dead On Arrival."

We accompanied his father to the hospital. He shed a couple of tears, seeing his fallen comrades. He then gave their bodies a salute before leaving the morgue.

Family members then arrived. Most of them cried, while others sighed, as they said it was sad that they had not been able to say goodbye.

Sitting silently in the corner of the hospital hallway, with my friend's father, I could see from the look in his eyes, that he was lucky enough to bid farewell to his four buddies.