Edge of Battle

cash. “Guns and missiles are good,” Fuerza said as he handed the bags out to his men, “but they are a dime a dozen in this country. Get control of the money, and you get the real power.” He held up two bags of cocaine, worth several thousand dollars each. “This is the real currency in the United States of America, not guns—and certainly not nationalism or revolution. Get the money, and you get the power.”

FBI FIELD OFFICE, SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

THE NEXT MORNING

“Getting fired seems to be part of your regular routine now, eh, Jason?” FBI Director Kelsey DeLaine said with only just a hint of humor in her voice. With her was her assistant, Special Agent Janice Perkins, a friendly and rather demure blonde who was very quick with a smile and a handshake and who, armed with a seemingly endless array of PDAs and smart cell phones, always seemed to have any person or every bit of information requested of her instantly at her fingertips. They were approaching the FBI’s San Diego field office headquarters north of San Diego near Montgomery Field Airport on a bright, clear California morning.

“I don’t see the humor in it, Kel,” Jason said somberly. With him was Ariadna Vega, looking beautiful as always although she dressed down in a plain pantsuit and casual jacket against the chill of the gradually lifting morning marine layer, still visible to the west toward San Diego’s Pacific coastline. “What are we doing here, anyway? We’ve been debriefing you guys for the past eighteen hours already.”

“I have some folks I want you to meet,” Kelsey said.

“What for? We’re not part of Operation Rampart anymore.”

“And you shouldn’t be…you said so yourself,” Kelsey said. “For once, I agree with you: as you said, you need to be out in the field chasing down the bad guys, not waiting for them to come to you.” She looked at Jason earnestly and added, “And frankly, I think Task Force TALON was a great success. The FBI can sure put your capabilities to good use.” Jason made a show of clearing out his ears as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Kiss my ass, Major. I still think you’re a loose cannon, but Task Force TALON is for sure the future of special operations and high-risk law enforcement.”

“I’m touched by your concern for me, Kel.”

“It’s nothing personal, Jason—some men can lead, others can’t,” Kelsey said matter-of-factly.

“Don’t hold back, friend: tell me how you really feel.”

“Your training, education, and background have been in research and development, not leadership. You’ve always come through in the end, but usually at the expense of one or two of your best people. To me, that’s not true leadership.”

Kelsey’s last comment hurt—Frank Falcone’s horrifying suicide was just a couple days earlier, and he and Ariadna had been grilled about it and all the events leading up to the riot at Rampart One for most of yesterday. “So you want to take over?” Jason asked bitterly. “You want to make TALON a big bad FBI terrorist-hunting force?”

“As FBI director, I’m in a great position to see to it that TALON gets the funding, equipment, support, and taskings that can quickly turn it into the world’s most high-tech and fearsome security, interdiction, and law enforcement team,” Kelsey said. “I’m not trying to cut you out—there’ll always be a place for you on TALON…”

“Just not as commander, right?”

“As technical team leaders, designing, building, and deploying the latest weapons and technology, there’s no one that could replace you and Ariadna. As tacticians and field commanders…”

“You think we suck.”

“I think you need to learn how to build a fighting team, rather than slap on the armor yourself and rush out into the middle of a firestorm—or, worse, creating a firestorm,” Kelsey said. “I think I can do that. Now that I better understand how your technology works and what it’s capable of, I think I have the organizational skills to take TALON to a much higher level.”

“And that would sure make you look good, in or out of the FBI, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this to make myself look good,” Kelsey snapped. “Sure, it would be a great legacy for me to bring that force up to full operational status as quickly as possible before I leave the Bureau. But I really believe in Task Force TALON too. I think it can be as big and as important as the U.S. marshals—heck, I think it could eventually replace the U.S. marshals.”

Jason had to admit to himself that he had never thought of TALON in that way before: TALON becoming its own federal law enforcement agency. He had only thought of it as a tool of the FBI or the armed forces, like choosing a different gun or vehicle to do a specific task. “Are you willing to take the added scrutiny?” he asked.

“‘Scrutiny’? I call it ‘universal condemnation,’” Kelsey said, only half-joking. “But to answer your question: yes, I’m willing to take it. To tell the obvious truth, I’m already tainted by my actions with TALON—I’m not long for the directorship. I was nominated because of what I did to help hunt down the Consortium. But I don’t play well with Congress, the Attorney General, or the Washington bureaucracy, the three players that you need to win in that town. So I might as well help TALON hunt down whoever is invading America now, then take my retirement and head off to a nice comfy private sector consulting job.”

She took off her sunglasses and looked around. “And this would be a nice place to base my consulting firm,” she added. “Nice weather year-round, far enough away from the ocean to avoid the fog, but close enough to still enjoy the coast; great airport, great facilities. Nothing against Clovis, New Mexico, but this area puts it to shame.”

“I’m surprised to hear you talking like this, about getting out of government service and hanging out a shingle,” Jason remarked. “Doesn’t sound like you.”

“I can read the handwriting on the wall, Jason—my honeymoon with Washington is just about over. They’ll want a more experienced, hard-nosed man in the directorship soon. I think it’s smart to make plans. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same.” She looked at him carefully and added, “Maybe even join my team.”

“You and I…working together?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s my firm—you’d be working for me.” That, Jason thought, was the no-nonsense, plain-talking Kelsey DeLaine he knew. He saw the surreptitious glance that Ariadna gave him and knew that she was thinking the same thing. “But I’d put your real talents to good use, and I’d guarantee the pay, benefits, and perks would be well worth it.”

“Sounds like you have it all worked out, Kel.”

“Times change—you gotta change with them,” Kelsey said. “Think about it.”

As she stepped ahead to greet the woman standing just outside the FBI field office, Ariadna walked up to him and said under her breath, “You, in a suit and tie, working for her?”

“‘Times change—you gotta change with them,’” Jason parroted.

“I’d rather go back to Fort Polk and eat crawdads.”

“Now you’re making me hungry.”

Kelsey was met by the Special Agent in Charge of the San Diego field office, Angelica Pierce, a tall and striking brunette with bright blue eyes and an unmistakable upstate New York accent. “Welcome to San Diego, Miss Director,” Pierce said, shaking first Kelsey’s hand, then greeting the others. “I understand you’ll be heading out right away, and I know you’ve had a long night. Everything’s ready; coffee’s waiting.”

“Thanks, Angelica,” Kelsey said. “I appreciate your office’s hustle on this. Your support has been outstanding.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Pierce responded. Her tone became much more serious—pleasantries were over, time to get down to business. “We’re at full security posture, as you know, which is why you had to park so far away from the building. We won’t be bypassing entry security either; sorry in advance for the delay.” They surrendered their ID cards before entering the building, then entered an entrapment area together while low-power X-ray scanners scanned for weapons and explosives, then entered the inspection area one at a time, where they were hand-wanded with metal detectors to locate their weapons. Everyone but Jason and Kelsey were surprised that