The Department of Homeland Security has scrapped its fleet of branded Immigration and Customs Enforcement vehicles, roughly 2,500 dark navy trucks and SUVs stamped with ICE lettering, and returned to unmarked cars for field operations, The Daily Beast reported. The move strips away the "Protect the Homeland" branding that former DHS Secretary Kristi Noem championed and marks the latest reversal of her tenure by her successor, Markwayne Mullin.
The branded vehicle program drew objections from ICE agents almost from the start. One agent warned the conspicuous markings would make officers "a bullseye" during street-level enforcement. By March, the trucks sat idle in parking garages nationwide, expensive symbols of a policy that never matched operational reality.
Mullin, 48, has now spent roughly three months unwinding Noem's signature initiatives at DHS. Beyond the vehicles, he has mothballed plans to expand mega-warehouse detention sites and pulled back from the tactic of flooding cities with large numbers of agents. The shift amounts to a systematic course correction inside the department charged with enforcing the nation's immigration laws.
The vehicle program traces back to a bulk order placed by Madison Sheahan, Noem's then-deputy, who was 29 years old at the time. Sheahan ordered approximately 2,500 branded trucks and SUVs without first verifying that agents in the field could actually use them for discreet enforcement work. The Daily Beast first revealed the rollout last August, reporting that agents were already furious about it.
The objections were practical, not political. ICE agents conduct arrests and surveillance in neighborhoods. Pulling up in a vehicle plastered with federal law-enforcement branding defeats the purpose. The trucks became props, visible enough to generate headlines, useless enough to gather dust.
Sheahan departed DHS in January, in the wake of the shooting of Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis. Noem herself was fired by President Trump roughly two months later, part of a broader shakeup at the department.
Politico reported Monday that DHS had returned to unmarked vehicles, framing the change as part of Mullin's broader effort to end the turmoil Noem left behind. One person familiar with DHS strategy told Politico the shift was deliberate.
"It's by design. Quieter and smarter operations. Finally."
That description, quieter, smarter, captures the contrast Mullin appears to be drawing with his predecessor. Noem's DHS favored high-visibility tactics: branded vehicles, large-scale agent deployments into cities, plans for massive detention warehouses. Mullin has reversed each of those moves.
Not everyone inside DHS is on board. Gregory Bovino, a Border Patrol commander whom Noem elevated to lead aggressive raids, has become what the Daily Beast described as "the loudest internal critic" of Mullin. Bovino posted on X:
"You want results? You create fear. Anything less is just expensive theater."
It is a fair philosophical debate, whether immigration enforcement works better through visible deterrence or through quiet, effective operations. But the branded vehicle program did not deliver either. The trucks never made it onto the streets. They sat in garages. That is not deterrence. That is waste.
Behind the vehicle reversal lies a murkier question about power at the department. Mullin has tapped Brian Cavanaugh, a former point person for DHS funding at the Office of Management and Budget, as undersecretary for management. DHS described Cavanaugh and Deputy Secretary Troy Edgar as "key players in the secretary's team."
But one DHS source offered a sharper assessment to PunchUp, the Substack newsletter run by Daily Beast reporter Tom Latchem. That source described Mullin as a "puppet" fronting a department "ruled by the White House," and named Cavanaugh, called "Susie's guy," a reference to White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles, as the real power. The same source said Cavanaugh is expected to soon replace Edgar as deputy secretary.
A senior ICE source, when asked whether that account tracked, responded with a "100%" emoji. These are anonymous, single-source claims and should be treated accordingly. But the pattern, Noem's former aides pushed out, Mullin installed, White House-aligned figures elevated, raises legitimate questions about who is steering the ship.
The White House pushed back firmly. A spokesperson said the Daily Beast and its "so-called 'sources' have no idea what they're talking about," and added that President Trump "has full faith and confidence in his entire team from Stephen Miller to Tom Homan to the hardworking staff at DHS."
White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson defended the administration's record, stating that "deportation numbers continue to increase" and calling the border the "most secure in history." DHS separately stated that ICE has been "delivering on President Trump's promise to the American people to arrest and deport criminal illegal aliens."
Those are strong claims. But neither Jackson nor DHS provided specific deportation figures in the reporting to back them up. The administration's enforcement credibility rests on results, not slogans, and the branded vehicle debacle is a reminder that showy gestures can actually undermine the mission.
The broader pattern of leadership churn at DHS and related agencies has been hard to ignore. ICE Director Todd Lyons recently stepped down, adding to a string of departures that have left the department in constant transition. Stability matters in an agency responsible for border security and immigration enforcement. Revolving doors do not build institutional competence.
Bovino's phrase, "expensive theater", was aimed at Mullin's quieter approach. But it applies far more accurately to the program Mullin just killed. Roughly 2,500 vehicles were ordered, branded, and parked. Agents refused to use them. Taxpayers funded them. Nobody benefited except whoever printed the decals.
The Noem era at DHS produced plenty of headlines. It also produced a 29-year-old deputy placing bulk orders without consulting the people who would have to drive the trucks, a fleet gathering dust in garages from coast to coast, and a secretary who was ultimately fired. The controversies surrounding Noem extended well beyond DHS policy, but the branded vehicle fiasco stands as a clean case study in what happens when public relations takes priority over operational judgment.
Mullin's reversal is the right call. Unmarked vehicles let agents do their jobs. Quiet enforcement catches people. Branded trucks catch attention, and that is all they catch.
The open questions remain real. Has DHS accounted for the cost of the vehicle program? How many of the 2,500 trucks have actually been stripped of their markings? What specific deportation numbers support the White House's claims of progress? These are questions Congress should ask and the administration should answer.
Conservative voters did not elect this administration to run a branding campaign. They elected it to enforce the law. If Mullin can deliver results without the theatrics, that is not weakness, it is competence. The test is whether the quieter approach actually produces more arrests, more deportations, and a more secure border. Numbers will tell that story. Decals never could.
