Edge of Battle

way. You want to be treated like an adversary, like you have something to hide—fine, you will be.” The U.S. marshals took Jason’s and Ariadna’s sidearms away from them. “Now let’s all go into your office, Major, while Director Lombard begins his interview with Captain Falcone. You will call in all of the personnel involved in last night’s incident and have them report to us here immediately. I want your records, logs, technical data, and downloads from your robots, and I want them in the next five minutes or I will take this entire camp apart piece by piece until I find them.”

“Five minutes?” Jason remarked, smiling. “I think we can have something for you a lot sooner than that. Captain?”

“Ready when you are, sir,” Falcone said.

“Show Miss Cass what we have.”

“Roger that, sir.” Hidden behind Richter, Falcone pressed a button on his wrist device…

…and seconds later the top of the TEMPER module they were standing in ripped open, and one of the Cybernetic Infantry Devices peered inside. “Everyone freeze and drop your weapons!” a machine’s electronic voice shouted. The CID unit immediately grabbed the marshals who were carrying weapons— one agent was grabbed by the upper arm, the other by his left shoulder. Both officers screamed in pain and terror as they were hauled up off their feet.

“What in hell…!” Lombard cried out, immediately reaching for his sidearm.

“No!” Jason said, still smiling. “No guns! It will detect guns and…”

But it was far too late. No sooner had Director Lombard’s gun cleared his holster than the CID unit walked quickly through the nylon side of the TEMPER module and swung the captured marshals at Lombard, knocking him off his feet. The CID unit kept moving forward until Lombard was pinned against the other side of the module, unable to move his hands or arms, with the two U.S. marshals dangling painfully in midair above him.

Falcone found Lombard’s sidearm on the deck, unloaded it, and stuck it into a flight-suit pocket, while Jason and Ari retrieved their sidearms and the FBI agent’s submachine guns, unloaded them, and tossed them aside. “CID One, drop your captives,” he ordered. The CID unit’s armored fingers opened, and the marshals clambered to the floor of the ruined TEMPER module beside Lombard, holding dislocated and bruised arms and shoulders. “Ari, go get a doctor and a couple security guys to help these clowns. CID One, back up ten meters and assume weapon guard position.”

“Major Richter, are you insane?” Annette Cass shouted. “You just attacked three federal agents!”

Jason moved forward quickly and snatched Cass’s weapon from her holster—she was plainly too shocked to even notice her weapon was gone. He unloaded it and tossed it aside. “And you walked on to a TALON firebase and had the balls to draw down on us? You’re the insane one, Miss Cass. We’re in an area already known for heavy terrorist activity, possibly including the Consortium—the CID units are programmed to respond to all armed threats with maximum force. You’re lucky CID One used their whole bodies as bludgeons and not just their limbs.”

“J, more company,” Ari radioed. “Two choppers inbound, about a mile out.”

“Any identification?”

“Nope.”

“Where’s the Condor?”

“I ordered them to launch the Condor immediately,” she replied. “They’ll maintain surveillance on the base and send imagery to Cannon.” Cannon Air Force Base, near Clovis, New Mexico, was the home base of Task Force TALON.

“Good.” To Falcone, he said, “Falcon, mount up. Get behind those choppers and take them down if they attack.”

“I don’t have any weapons, boss—how am I supposed to take them down?”

“Think of something—jump on them, toss a cactus at them, distract them—just do it, Falcon.” Falcone immediately ordered CID One to assume the pilot-up stance, and he was inside the robot and moving in less than thirty seconds, racing across the desert out of sight. “Captain Gray, you expecting anyone?” Jason asked the Rampart One commander.

“Negative,” Gray replied. He was still breathless and bug-eyed from the sudden and incredibly lightning-quick flurry of activity that had just occurred right in front of his eyes. “Any inbounds are supposed to get clearance from me or Top first through your headquarters or the White House.”

“That’s the FBI, Richter!” Cass exploded. “They’re here to start the investigation on the death of that migrant last night! Are you hallucinating or are you on some kind of power trip?”

Jason ignored her. “Gray, take the injured to the infirmary and the rest to the dog-pens and lock them up…”

“That consulate officer too?”

“The consulate officer too—until he can be positively ID’d, as far as I’m concerned, he’s Consortium,” Jason said. “Have the rest of your men on full alert until we figure out what’s going on.” Gray issued orders to the physician, medics, and security forces that arrived moments later, and Cass and the others that were with her were hustled out. Jason keyed the mike button on his radio: “Ari…”

“They’re coming in pretty slow, J,” she radioed from her command Humvee near the Condor airship’s landing pad. “Staying in formation…about a half-mile out…slowing even more. Looks like they’re starting to circle the perimeter. Wait…I see crests on the sides of both choppers. One looks like an FBI patch…confirmed, and I can see the letters FBI on the tail. The other says U.S. BORDER PATROL on the side. They look like the real deal, J.”

“TALON One, Rampart One,” Ben Gray radioed a moment later. “Top just got a call from one of those choppers. The caller on board says she’s FBI Director DeLaine. She apologized for not calling in first and is requesting permission to land. They gave the proper authentication.”

Jason finally let out a nervous sigh of relief and holstered his own sidearm. “Let them in, Captain,” he said wearily. On his command radio, he said, “CID One, stay out of sight until we verify everyone’s ID out here.”

“Wilco,” Falcone responded.

“Ari, better get on the horn and tell Jefferson what’s been going on,” Jason said.

“I’m already on the line with him, J,” Ariadna said. “He doesn’t sound too pissed. He’s calling the Justice Department and Homeland Security now.”

“Swell,” Jason muttered.

“TALON One, Rampart One, do you want me to release Cass and the others?” Ben Gray radioed.

“Negative,” Jason responded.

“But we’ve got them in the dog-pens…”

“Let them cool their heels in your holding cells for a few more minutes,” Jason said as he headed out to the landing pad. “I’ll meet you over there in a few.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

The two helicopters’ rotors were winding down and all of the passengers were standing on the landing pad mats when Jason stepped over to them. FBI Director Kelsey DeLaine went over to greet him. “Hiya, Jason,” she said cheerfully, giving him a firm, friendly handshake and a hug. She was dressed for action with a black nylon FBI jacket over a black T-shirt and bulletproof vest, black boots, BDU pants, an FBI ball cap, and a Beretta pistol in a holster. Jason saw a lot of energy in her step and in her smile and was pleased that Washington hadn’t erased her genuine love for her profession. “Nice to see you again.” She looked around. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“Some folks from the U.S. Attorney’s office in San Diego, maybe someone from Immigration and Customs Enforcement,” Kelsey said. She noticed him looking questioningly at her. “They haven’t arrived yet?”

“They’re here.”

“They didn’t tell you we were coming? The security guy on the radio said we needed clearance to land first.”

“They didn’t mention you were coming. They didn’t mention they were coming.” He turned to look at the people coming off the second helicopter. “Who are they?”

“Investigators from Customs and Border Protection and some Spanish interpreters,” Kelsey said. “We’re participating in the preliminary investigation on Frank’s incident last night.” Kelsey was the cocommander of Task Force TALON when it was first organized less than a year earlier, and she was very familiar with its personnel,