Edge of Battle

“But you didn’t see Fuerza shoot anybody, did you?”

“No, but he certainly didn’t warn my buddies that they were about to get blown away now, did he?”

“Maybe he didn’t know they were going to…”

“Sure, Doc—a guy loads a truck up with a squad of guys in body armor and automatic weapons, and he’s just going to take them to the local farm so they can go pick some vegetables,” Purdy shot back acidly. His features softened a bit when he saw Vega’s expression turn from defiance to hurt and shame. “Hey, Doc, I’m not tryin’ to pick a fight with you, okay? A lot of folks all over the world, including some very smart politicians, lawyers, and talkin’ heads on TV, think Fuerza is a hero. I just can’t help but notice that I don’t see those people out on the wire with me and my guys very often.” He smiled reassuringly. “But you’re out here, Doc, and I respect that. We’ll make a good team, and we’ll see what we see.” Ariadna nodded and tried to smile, but her face looked grim and she averted her eyes and said nothing.

“What else do you remember about that night, Agent Purdy?” Kelsey asked. “You mentioned Russians—can you give us a description?”

“Just of one of them, the one that I think came in with Flores—I couldn’t ID the military ones that jumped out of Fuerza’s truck, ’cause they were wearing balaclavas and helmets,” Purdy said. “Big guy, about six-two, square and solid but not fat, shaved head, wearing sunglasses.”

“Zakharov,” Jason breathed. “It has to be.”

“Zakharov? Yegor Zakharov?” Purdy asked incredulously. “The guy who planned those terrorist attacks on Kingman City, San Francisco, and Washington? He was right in front of me? My God, I actually saw Yegor Zakharov…I even got a bead on the motherfucker until his troopers started shooting up the place!”

“Are you sure about your description, Agent Purdy?” Kelsey asked.

“Positive, ma’am—I hit him square on with my lights, and he turned and faced me as soon as I did. Zakharov came with Flores in his Suburban with a small group of migrants, and Fuerza brought the big truckload of terrorists.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute—you keep on mentioning this Flores,” Jason interrupted. “Who’s Flores?”

“Flores. Victor Flores. He was the second smuggler in the group.” He looked questioningly at Special Agent in Charge Pierce. “You didn’t recover the body of a young kid, seventeen or eighteen years old, near the shot-up Suburban?”

“No,” Pierce said. “You never mentioned him.”

“I assumed he was among the dead,” Purdy said.

“There was a young boy killed, maybe eleven or twelve, but not a teenager…”

“When I arrived on the scene I arrested a coyote named Victor Flores,” Purdy backtracked excitedly. “He was separate from Fuerza. Fuerza brought the big truck with the commandos in it, the one that the second Border Patrol unit rolled up on. I rolled up on Flores and his Suburban. I know the kid—I’ve caught up with him many times, but never arrested him. But he was there. I had handcuffed him to the door of his Suburban but cut him loose just after the shooting started.” He looked at the others in surprise. “He must’a gotten away!”

“There’s another witness out there,” Jason said. “Another guy who could positively ID Zakharov.”

“ID him? Hell, I think Flores brought him into the country!” Purdy exclaimed. “When I rolled up behind Flores, before I hit my lights, Zakharov had just finished talkin’ with Flores and was walkin’ with Fuerza toward Fuerza’s truck. It looked like a meet.”

“They must’ve come in separately—Zakharov with Flores, and the commandos with Fuerza,” DeLaine said. “Good operational security technique.”

“But if you didn’t recover Flores’s body, he might still be around,” Purdy said. “We gotta find him before Zakharov or Fuerza do.” He looked at Pierce and DeLaine. “Give me another chance at them, ma’am, Director. Let me out of here.”

“If it’s the Consortium, and they find out you’re alive, they’ll kill anyone in their way to get to you,” Kelsey said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I didn’t sign up for the Border Patrol to be safe, ma’am,” Purdy said. He looked over at Richter and Vega. “Put me in with these guys. I’ll help them track down Zakharov and whoever is in on this.”

“We’ve been shut down, Agent Purdy,” Ariadna said.

“Well, open back up again,” Purdy said testily, suspicious about all the resistance he was getting from the supposedly gung-ho Army guys. “Your robots are the only thing that can stop these nutcases from killin’ more agents. Those Russians are just as well equipped and effective as any U.S. Army light infantry unit I’ve ever seen, and they’re gettin’ stronger every day. They’ll blow any Border Patrol agents away easy.” He turned to Pierce and said, “I can help track those terrorists down. I know the migrant worker community, ma’am…”

“They know who you are. They won’t cooperate with you.”

“They know I’m fair and don’t try to bust their balls, ma’am,” Purdy said. “They probably don’t know how dangerous those Russians are—if the migrants knew who they were hiding, they might welcome our help in shutting them down.”

“You’re still La Migra,” Pierce said. “If the Consortium is living and moving among them, the migrants might just turn you in to ensure safety for themselves and their families. Do you have anyone in the community who could help you?”

“I might be able to contact some of my informants…” Purdy replied, but from his expression it was obvious he couldn’t trust them either. He turned to Ariadna. “But Dr. Vega here could help me. She knows the language better than me, and she’s a helluva lot better-lookin’.”

“I’m second-generation American,” Ariadna said uneasily, her eyes lowered apologetically to the floor. “I’ve never been part of the Hispanic community. I’m not sure if I could help you. Besides, I’ve got my hands full with the task force.”

“Hey, Dr. Vega, you look pretty tough to me,” he said, “and from what I heard you did in Brazil and Egypt, I think you can handle yourself. Besides, the Hispanics usually don’t rough up or squeal on the women, even if they’re not from their community—it’s not very macho to put a lady in danger, even a lady cop.” In pretty good Spanish, he added, “Ellos no pueden parar mi Veracruz y su belleza, senorita.”

“Gracias, senor,” Ari said, adding tentatively, “But I don’t think I can do it.”

Purdy looked at Ariadna carefully, quietly trying to gauge the real meaning of her response, then shrugged. “I’m stuck, then,” he said. “I’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way—pound the pavement, kick a little ass, and pass around a lot of cash. Give me a couple BORTAC squads and I’ll have enough firepower to handle anyone.” He looked wistfully at Jason and added, “Except the Consortium. For them, I’m sure I’ll need the Marines or Special Forces, if I can’t get the robots.”

“It might be too late anyway, Paul,” Pierce said. “I’m sure Flores has hightailed it back to Mexico by now.”

“He might have, but I don’t think so,” Purdy said. “Flores is not Mexican. He’s an ‘angel baby’—his parents were Mexican migrant workers, but he was born in the US of A, an instant citizen.” From Pierce’s expression, she obviously didn’t know this bit of information. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you don’t show us yours, so we don’t show you ours. That’s gotta change if we hope to get any real work done.

“Anyway, Flores’s parents were migrant farmworkers, but he was born in southern California, Coachella Valley, JFK Hospital, I think—I’ve seen his jacket. Hell, nowadays more than half of all kids born in southern California have parents who are illegals, but seventeen years ago, that made you special—an ‘angel baby.’ I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts he’s still in the area. He helps the migrants but he’s one hundred percent American—I don’t think he would run to Mexico.” He turned again to Jason and Ariadna. “Give me these two and their gadgets, and I’ll find Victor Flores, I guarantee it.”

Kelsey looked at Jason, then said, “There’s no way the White House is going to approve using TALON to hunt down one young man,” she said.

“You’re the freakin’ director of the FBI, ma’am—tell ’em what you want and what you’re plannin’ on, and they’ll do it—if they’re smart,” Purdy said. “You meet with the President all the time, right? You used to work for the new Secretary of Homeland Security, and if I’m not mistaken you reported directly to the new National Security Adviser and that rat bastard traitor Chamberlain when TALON was first stood up, right?