When LeBaron was first assigned a security team, he was reluctant. He even refused to let Ayala drive. “I underestimated him,” he said.

But today, LeBaron admits, he relies on his security team. Agent Ayala is always nearby, keeping an eye out for danger.

Ayala explained that the security team would only be deployed when LeBaron was campaigning in remote areas where the National Guard's presence would likely lead to confrontations with local cartels.

However, not all security threats come from organized crime. In one incident, LeBaron and 700 others rode into a town on horseback, and Ayala's quick response prevented a thick tree branch from falling on Johnson Berlin, LeBaron's wife.

Wearing a short-sleeved, immaculately ironed shirt, Ayala explained that his job is to be flexible and to support the candidate's campaign without hindering it. That means making – and changing – plans on the fly.

“The implementation of security measures during the election campaign is different from normal VIP protection,” Ayala said.

“Everything is changing. We have to be ready at all times, without having the luxury of planning primary, secondary and tertiary routes that come with the usual diplomatic protection.”

Ayala points out that many high-ranking politicians have a tightly planned daily schedule, organized by a large staff, but more flexibility is needed to protect candidates like LeBaron.

However, the protection teams are not always successful. On the last day of the campaign, Jose Alfredo Cabrera, a candidate in Guerrero, murdered although there is a National Guard security team.

Ayala blamed security lapses on new protocols, which he said require National Guard agents to wear uniforms and stand some distance from candidates.

The new rules “do not respect the usual personal protection protocols, which require that you stay as close to the client as possible at all times,” he explained.

Ayala also stressed that one has to adapt when traveling with candidates. In his opinion, the new rules do not do justice to this situation.

“If there is no agenda, everything has to be done in the moment. Usual protocols, such as the ban on driving at night, no longer apply,” he said.

Ayala's adaptability was tested one last time when LeBaron left his campaign's final rally at 11 p.m. in Matachi, an area considered particularly dangerous.

During the incident, Ayala had received information that armed men in about 20 vehicles were patrolling the surrounding streets.

The two-hour drive back to LeBaron's house was going to be dangerous. Time was of the essence: every second outside was a second in danger.

LeBaron had always insisted on breaking protocol and sitting in the front, but now he followed the agent's instructions and sat in the back next to his wife. Two National Guard trucks crushed the candidate's vehicle.

As they drove, Johnson Berlin noticed a truck behind them behaving strangely. Its headlights flashed through the rear window. Fear flickered in her eyes as the truck repeatedly tried to overtake the speeding convoy.

On high alert, National Guard agents aimed their weapons at the truck. Their weapons' green lasers bounced off the vehicle as it finally passed the convoy and disappeared into the night.

Ayala, LeBaron and the convoy continued to race along the country roads, with Ayala sticking close to the lead vehicle and never staying more than a few feet behind. They raced through red lights and reached speeds of 180 kilometers per hour (120 miles per hour).

But then the pursuit came to an abrupt end. They needed gas.

“We're in the middle of what feels like a high-speed chase when we have to stop for half an hour to refuel. It's extremely inefficient and dangerous,” LeBaron later remarked when he finally returned to the relative safety of his home.

But the campaign was finally over. All he could do was wait for the outcome of Sunday's election – and see where life would take him next.