When Rachel Reyes thinks back to her son's final days, she remembers how excited he was for the year ahead.
Ruben Ray Martinez had just turned 23. Reyes said her son planned to enroll in trade school to become a mechanic. He felt ready to move out of his family's home in San Antonio and had found an apartment he liked, she added.
But on March 15, 2025, Martinez, a U.S. citizen, was shot and killed by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent during a traffic encounter in Texas. He's considered the first of at least six people to have been killed by immigration agents since the start of President Trump's second term, according to The Trace, an outlet focused on covering gun violence.
"He would speak with enthusiasm, like he was looking forward to doing things. He thought he'd have more time," she said. "We all thought he would have more time."
Martinez's death came nearly a year before immigration agents fatally shot Renee Macklin Good and Alex Pretti in separate incidents in Minneapolis. And during that time, Martinez's mother and the public didn't know that the officer who killed Martinez worked for ICE.
That only came to light following a public records request by American Oversight, a watchdog group, that sought documents related to ICE's use of force. Among the records was an ICE incident report that said Martinez accelerated his car and struck a federal agent, prompting another officer to fire defensive shots.
But videos released separately last month suggest a different version of events: Footage from police body cameras appear to show federal agents standing in front of Martinez's car as it slowly moves. It's unclear from the videos reviewed by NPR whether the vehicle hit an agent.
Reyes told NPR that she felt betrayed by law enforcement, whom she says she always had a deep respect for. She added that losing her son was already devastating and the recent revelations about ICE's involvement have made grieving more painful.
"It's like a constant state of unrest," she said. "There was no peace and I still don't have peace."
'I heard Ruben say, 'I'm sorry,' and then he slumped backward'
Martinez was only supposed to be away from home for one night.
He told his mom that he planned to meet up with a friend and promised to be home the next day, according to Reyes.
" He was all happy with his backpack getting ready to go," she said. "And then, the next time I see him brought home, he's in his urn."
Martinez and his friend Joshua Orta drove down to South Padre Island, a popular spring break destination in south Texas. Just after midnight, the two approached a busy intersection where a car wreck had occurred earlier that evening. Officers from multiple agencies were on the scene to help manage traffic, including South Padre Island Police, the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department and Homeland Security Investigations, which operates under ICE.
The next moments were caught on videos from officers' body cameras that were released by the Texas Department of Public Safety (DPS) last month.
Footage from one body camera shows an officer signaling to Martinez to pull over. That officer, Texas Game Warden Juan Rosendo, later said in a police report released by DPS that he spotted an open bottle of alcohol in the car.
In a second body camera, an officer can later be heard saying "keep going." Martinez starts to drive straight. As he gets closer to the crash site, an officer can be heard yelling, "Stop" and "Hold him."
Moments later, Martinez's car appears to have come to a full stop, according to footage from a third body camera. Two officers then approach the front of the vehicle — one of whom attempts to open the car door, the video shows. As this happens, Martinez's car appears to slowly move forward and to the left. Then, three shots ring out in quick succession. The entire sequence of events lasts less than 30 seconds.
The second body camera shows the shooter pulling Martinez's body out of the car and onto the ground. Martinez is handcuffed and over a minute later, receives medical attention.
According to police reports, the agent who opened fire was Homeland Security Investigations Supervisory Special Agent Jack Stevens. In a written statement to investigators, Stevens said he did so as an act of self-defense, claiming that he saw his fellow agent, Hector Sosa, "fall onto the hood of the vehicle."
How Sosa came into contact with Martinez's vehicle is unclear from the videos reviewed by NPR. Sosa, in his written statement to investigators, said he was treated for an unspecified knee injury.
Later that night, Orta, who witnessed the shooting from the passenger seat, was taken into questioning. In a video released by DPS, Orta said Martinez was confused because multiple officers were yelling instructions. Martinez was also worried about getting in trouble for driving while intoxicated, according to Orta.
"He was literally just like … panicky," he told investigators. "He didn't know what to do, like he definitely didn't want to go to jail. But as far as running over an officer and endangering, he [wouldn't] do that."
Orta went on to say that the car was "barely moving" when he saw an "officer kind of like get on the hood." He added that Martinez "didn't necessarily hit him, but like, it kind of like, you know what I mean, caught his feet."
Orta died in February in an unrelated car crash. In a written statement provided to Reyes' lawyer before his death and then shared with NPR, Orta wrote "Ruben did not hit anyone," adding that an agent approached the front of the car and slapped the hood.
He wrote, "Without giving any warning, commands, or opportunity to comply, the agent fired multiple shots at Ruben from an extremely close distance — no more than two feet. I heard Ruben say, 'I'm sorry,' and then he slumped backward."
'An unwillingness to admit mistakes"
The day after the shooting, a Texas Ranger came to Reyes' home to tell her that Martinez had been fatally shot by an officer. He did not mention that the officer worked for ICE, she said.
Reyes recalled being in shock and confused at the news because her son was not an aggressive person, she said. Far from it, Martinez was shy and laidback, she added.
"It never made sense to me," she said. "Ruben wouldn't use his car to hurt anyone, ever."
In late February, a grand jury in Texas declined to bring charges against Stevens. In a statement to NPR, ICE's acting director Todd Lyons said, "We stand by the grand jury's unanimous decision that found no criminality. This incident was investigated from every possible angle by an independent body, and it cleared our officer."
Since then, Democratic U.S. Reps. Robert Garcia of California and Greg Casar of Texas have called for an independent investigation into the shooting and why ICE did not disclose its involvement sooner.
Reyes' attorney, Charles Stam, told NPR that his team is also exploring legal options, adding that he believes federal agents escalated the situation by standing in front of Martinez's car. " I think what we've seen is an unwillingness to admit mistakes," he said.
According to the Department of Homeland Security, immigration agents have the right to use deadly force when there's "reasonable belief that the subject of such force poses an imminent threat." But its policy advises agents to "avoid intentionally and unreasonably placing themselves in positions in which they have no alternative to using deadly force."
"Sometimes there needs to be the deadly use of force. That's something that should be undertaken with solemnity," Stam said. "And if it's done, there should be an investigation and people should be held accountable for their actions. We've seen none of that here."
Shy, goofy and loved feeding stray cats
Martinez was quiet when he first met someone — but really, he was goofy and thoughtful, Reyes said. Her son loved feeding stray cats and had a knack for fixing things, especially cars.
From the way that he cared for his siblings and nephew, Reyes believed that Martinez would have made a great father someday. " He would always make sure to tell them that he loved them every time they left, and he was always playing around with them and joking around," she said. "He was really good to them."
For Reyes, it's been strange to go through the day without hearing his laughter from across the hall or smelling French toast and eggs, which Martinez was learning to perfect.
" I could always tell when he got started because I could smell the burnt eggs," she said. "He would FaceTime me in the kitchen like, 'How do you make your eggs so fluffy?'"
It was especially tough last month — which marked Martinez's 24th birthday and the anniversary of his death. Reyes used to take her son to a nice restaurant to celebrate his birthday. Although she planned to stay home this year, her family encouraged her to keep the tradition going.
Reyes said it was nice to be at dinner with loved ones, but it wasn't the same. "It's just an obvious difference without him here," Reyes said.
Still, like always, she saved a seat for her son.
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