Edge of Battle

by Dale Brown

  “Ari…?”

  “Continue to observe and report, Sergeant,” Ariadna repeated stonily. Spinelli banged a hand on the console and muttered an expletive. Moments later they watched as the van sped away.

  “Want me to follow it, Ari?” Dodd asked.

  “Yes! Follow it!” Spinelli shouted. “We might be able to intercept him before he reaches the highway.”

  “Negative. Resume your patrol, Harry.”

  “What is with you, Vega?” Spinelli exploded as he watched the van speed away through the video datalink. “I thought you were here to help us! Instead, you just let a wanted criminal get away!”

  “My orders are to send one CID unit and a Gullwing UAV out to this area, patrol for ten hours over varied terrain and operating conditions in both day and night, and report back to Major Richter and Sergeant Major Jefferson,” Ariadna said curtly. “I don’t much care what you thought.”

  Spinelli was ready to continue arguing with her, but instead he looked at her and nodded his head knowingly. “Oh, I get it now. What is it, Vega—afraid ‘your people’ are going to get persecuted by the big bad federales?”

  Vega whirled around and pushed Spinelli hard in his chest with two hands. “Kiss my ass, Spinelli!” she shouted.

  “I seem to have hit a nerve here, eh, Vega?” Spinelli smirked. “I run into that all the time. Most of the Border Patrol’s recruits are Hispanic because it doesn’t cost as much to teach them Spanish and they blend in with the border area population better. But the downside is that sometimes they don’t want to catch the illegals as bad as others in the Border Patrol do. Some even have family members that are illegals, and they’re afraid they’re going to catch a relative or friend of a relative if they do their job well enough. They’re good agents, but they let their heritage get in the way of their duty. They don’t last very long in the service. After all, they’re just wetbacks in uniform.”

  Ariadna’s eyes blazed, and others in the room watching this interchange thought she was going to rush at him again. Instead, she hit the comm button on the console: “Harry, bring it in,” she ordered. “The exercise is over.” The Border Patrol supervisor smirked again. “And wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you, Spinelli.”

  “Sí, señorita,” Spinelli said. Ariadna glared at him but said nothing. It took only a few minutes for her to pack up her gear. “You come back when you’re ready to do some real border security work, Doctor. Until then, the ghosts of the four Border Patrol agents who were killed the other day will thank you and your precious Mexican heritage to stay the hell out of our way.”

  MISSION VALLEY, CALIFORNIA

  TWO DAYS LATER

  The memorial service for the four slain Border Patrol agents was held at Qualcomm Stadium, just outside San Diego, where more than fifty thousand attendees witnessed one of the largest gatherings of law enforcement officers from around the world ever—over three thousand men and women in uniform, some from as far away as South Africa, Australia, and Japan, assembled on the field to pay respects to the fallen agents. The caskets were brought into the stadium by simple wooden one-horse wagons, emblematic of the Border Patrol’s frontier heritage, led by a company of one hundred bagpipers that filled the air with an awful yet stirring dirge.

  The President of the United States, Samuel Conrad, stood at the podium before the four caskets and the thousands looking on. He took his prepared notes out of a breast pocket, looked at them briefly, then put them away. The audience was completely still—even the horses that drew the caissons seemed suddenly frozen in place.

  “My staff prepared a eulogy in which I was going to talk about the dedication and professionalism of Border Agents Caufield, Tighe, Purdy, and Estaban,” the President began, his voice cracking. “But I can’t read it. I didn’t know these men. My words might bring some comfort, coming from the President, but they’d be meaningless. These men were not my friends. They were public servants, guardians, protectors, law enforcement agents, and I am the President of the United States. Their bravery, professionalism, and dedication to duty have already been attested to by the men and women who knew them. I know that being a Border Patrol agent is a mostly lonely, difficult, and thankless job; unfortunately, it is also becoming a more dangerous one. They knew this, and still they went out into the deserts and did their duty. I thank these men and their families on behalf of our nation for their service, and I recognize that, ultimately, I am responsible for their deaths. I am their boss, their commander in chief in a sense, and I failed to adequately give them all the tools they needed to do their jobs.

  “I know my words at this time and place probably don’t mean much to you right now, but that’s all I have to offer you, and I hope you’ll accept them,” the President went on, a tear rolling unbidden yet unchecked down his cheek. “I promise you that the deaths of these four fine men will not go unavenged. I promise I will act immediately to hunt down the killers and punish them. I further promise to do everything within my powers to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” With that, the President left the dais, shook hands and spoke a few words to each of the dead officer’s family members, and departed the stadium with an angry, taunt-jawed expression. The President’s aides and advisers had to scramble to keep up with him.

  The President, Secretary of Homeland Security Jeffrey Lemke, and Customs and Border Protection Director James Abernathy were flown from the stadium by helicopter to March Air Reserve Base in Riverside, then traveled by motorcade to the Domestic Air Interdiction Coordination Center, the joint Federal Air Administration–Customs Service–Air Force radar surveillance facility. After meeting with the facility director and his staff and getting a brief tour of the facility, they were led into a secure conference room, where a number of persons were waiting for them to arrive.

  The first to address the audience was National Security Adviser Sergeant Major Ray Jefferson, who was already on hand when the President arrived. “Welcome, Mr. President, to this border security operational briefing,” he began. “This briefing is classified top secret, no foreign nationals, sensitive sources and methods involved, and the room is secure.

  “This briefing concerns Operation Rampart. As directed by the President in Executive Order 07-23, Operation Rampart’s mission is the integration of military, paramilitary, government, and civil patrol and law enforcement agencies to completely secure the southern borders of the United States from illegal intrusion.

  “According to my staff, sir, based on arrests per sector, agents per sector, local law enforcement statistics, and patrol patterns in each sector, we estimate that approximately seven hundred and eighty thousand persons per year successfully cross the southern borders at other than legal points of entry,” Jefferson went on. “Approximately one percent of those that cross the border are arrested. According to Customs and Border Protection statistics and reports, the number of illegal border crossings is rising approximately two percent a year. In addition, illegals are becoming more desperate and more violent because of the economic situation in their home countries and the sophistication of surveillance in more populated areas.

  “Operation Rampart seeks to reduce the number of illegal border crossings by increasing surveillance, detection, and apprehension of illegal migrants through the use of more sophisticated surveillance technology and rapid reaction by high-speed aircraft and vehicles. In other words, sir, Operation Rampart will turn the borders of the United States into a true active military security zone that will prevent anyone from crossing the borders except at designated crossing points. It will also improve detection and apprehension of illegal aliens already in the country, improve the Department of Homeland Security’s ability to protect and defend the United States from all manner of enemy or criminal activity, while at the same time offering opportunities for foreign workers to earn a decent wage and improve their way of life in this country.”

  “I’ve read your proposal, Sergeant Major Jefferson,” Secretary of Homeland Security J
effrey Lemke said. The former director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation was short and thin but tough-looking and serious. Following the shakeup in the Cabinet after the revelation that the former White House National Security Adviser Robert Chamberlain had financed and engineered several attacks against oil company facilities around the world, including a nuclear explosion near Houston, Texas, Lemke was going to resign along with many other government and Cabinet officials but was instead elevated to Secretary of Homeland Security. Lemke felt his distrust for Chamberlain was vindicated by his actions, and he had a natural skepticism of any projects or programs coming out of the National Security Adviser’s office. “Although I’m intrigued by some aspects of it, my staff and bureau directors have serious reservations about the plan as a whole. This needs to be studied further.” He glanced over at one of the other persons on the dais. “And the presence of Major Jason Richter of Task Force TALON is ominous to say the least. While we all applaud the major’s heroic victories against the Consortium, I don’t think border security is an area where TALON should get involved.”

  Jefferson turned to Richter, who stepped out to the lectern. He was dressed in pixilated desert battle dress uniform, including sand-gray boots, and a web belt with an empty pistol holster. Richter was tall and handsome, but seemed uncomfortably young, even for a major in the modern U.S. Army, especially standing beside Jefferson. His hair was dark and “high and tight,” his uniform had only his name, rank, and “U.S. ARMY” tags, and he had a black beret tucked into his web belt. He stood rather uneasily, shuffling slightly from foot to foot, not nervous but as if fighting off surges of energy coursing through his body.

  “First off, Mr. Secretary,” Richter began, “I would like to extend my condolences to you and your department on behalf of TALON on your tragic loss at Blythe.”

  “Thank you, Major,” Jeffrey Lemke said woodenly. “But frankly, this Operation Rampart and the way it’s being cobbled together with such short notice is not making me feel much better; I’m also very concerned about Task Force TALON’s involvement in this. But please continue.”

  “TALON is involved because I believe the Consortium is behind that attack against the Border Patrol agents at Blythe, sir.”

  “I wasn’t briefed on that,” Lemke said.

  “It’s my opinion only, sir,” Jason said. “But we have had three incidents in less than a week with migrants carrying automatic weapons, something they rarely if ever did before the Consortium attacks. According to FBI Director DeLaine, most of the other known terror, insurgency, and supremacy groups in the U.S. went to ground during the Consortium attacks and have not really resurfaced following the Washington confrontation because of stepped-up security—yet more and more migrants are traveling with heavy weaponry. I think Yegor Zakharov is orchestrating these cross-border incidents, possibly to bring fighters and weapons into the U.S. to carry out more attacks. He’s a wounded animal, and those are the most dangerous.”

  “I tend to agree with the major’s assessment, Mr. President, which is why I recommended putting Task Force TALON on the borders as part of Operation Rampart,” Jefferson interjected. “We can pull Task Force TALON units away from border security duties quickly if needed elsewhere. The CID units’ big advantage, along with their firepower and versatility, is their mobility and deployability.”

  The Secretary of Homeland Security was immensely skeptical and made no attempt to hide his doubt; this only encouraged the Chief of Staff’s objections: “We can’t raise the ‘Consortium’ and ‘Zakharov’ warning flags every time there’s a shooting in America,” Kinsly said perturbedly. “Congress will start to lose patience if we cry wolf every few weeks.”

  “Then we’ll say that TALON is the best choice because they’re already formed up and can be swung into action fast,” Jefferson said. “We can have four teams ready to go in twenty-four hours, even before the first patrol base is fully constructed.”

  Lemke shrugged noncommittally. “The other problem I have is this budget,” he went on, shaking his head in disbelief. “I believe your numbers are gross underestimates. And if you add in administrative and judicial costs, you’re looking at an initial outlay of between six and eight billion dollars to start, and four to five billion dollars a year to maintain it. And that’s before Congress starts tacking on it’s own pet projects to the appropriation bill. I would expect the initial cost of this program to be close to ten billion dollars this year alone and fifty to sixty billion dollars over the next ten years to maintain. That’s more than the entire Bureau of Customs and Border Protection budget! How in the world am I supposed to sell this program to Congress and the American people, Mr. President?”

  “Remind them of the four dead agents that are being buried today, Mr. Lemke,” Jefferson responded.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Jefferson, but I’m not going to use the dead to justify this—I have too much respect for those men and their families,” Lemke said bitterly. He turned to President Conrad. “Mr. President, we absolutely cannot put robots on the U.S.-Mexico border—folks will think we’re creating some sort of sci-fi prison around the United States! I recognize the invaluable service Major Richter and his team has performed battling terrorists, but using these multimillion-dollar robots to catch migrant farmworkers seems like trying to use a main battle tank to stomp out cockroaches!”

  “Secretary Lemke, the equation is simple,” Richter said. “The Bureau of Customs and Border Protection, which is in charge of securing the borders, is completely understaffed and overwhelmed. I estimate it would take at least five thousand new agents on the U.S.-Mexico border alone to even begin to get illegal immigration under control. We can’t afford that. You have just two alternatives: use five thousand National Guard troops—or use Task Force TALON.”

  “You think your robots can do the work of five thousand National Guard troops, Major?”

  “Combined with advanced surveillance assets—I know they can, sir,” Jason replied. “They can do it better, faster, and cheaper. All I need is the go-ahead and the political support of the administration and I’ll have the U.S.-Mexico border completely secure in twelve months.”

  “A three-thousand-mile border—completely secure in just twelve months?” Lemke retorted. “That’s impossible, even with a hundred of your robots.”

  “I can do it, sir,” Jason said confidently. “You’ve seen the capabilities of the Cybernetic Infantry Device units in the battle with the Consortium. They’re even more capable now. This is the type of mission best suited for them.”

  “I asked the staff to come up with innovative and original ideas for border security, and this certainly fits the bill,” the President said. To Richter, he asked, “How many of these CID units do you have available, Major?”

  “Ten, Mr. President,” Jason replied. “I want to use eight for this mission, at least two per base, with two set aside for training, as a spare, and for other contingencies. Our emergency budget and engineering resources should give us another sixteen units on-line by the end of the year.”

  “The cost of which hasn’t been factored into this budget,” Lemke said. “This is beginning to get out of control here, Jefferson. You need to rethink this proposal a lot more before presenting it to the Cabinet for approval, and certainly get the congressional leadership involved in the planning.”

  There was a strained silence after that; then, the President motioned to Jefferson. “Sergeant Major, continue the briefing, please.”

  “A preliminary security evaluation was recently concluded by Major Jason Richter, and he is here to present his findings. Major Richter?”

  “Mr. President, Task Force TALON has studied the deployment of the U.S. Border Patrol over the past two days in both day and night operations, and we’ve toured several Border Patrol sector operations centers and observed their operations,” he said. “The current border control system uses a combination of ground and air patrols that deploy out of sector patrol locations, intelligence data collected by Bo
rder Patrol agents, twenty-foot-high steel fences erected within fifteen to twenty miles either side of the twenty-five legal border crossing points along the U.S.-Mexico border’s legal crossing points, and underground vibration sensors for the majority of all other areas. Approximately thirty percent of the border has some sort of electronic surveillance or a physical barrier. Of the remaining seventy percent of the border, however, my task force considers surveillance and security nonexistent.”

  “I hope the Border Patrol gets an opportunity to respond, sir,” James Abernathy, director of the Bureau of Customs and Border Protection, interjected pointedly.

  “Don’t worry, Jim, you’ll get a chance,” Secretary of Homeland Security Lemke said. Under his breath, some of the audience heard him mutter, “I hope.”

  “The fences are generally considered effective when properly maintained,” Richter went on, “but it has resulted in driving most illegal border crossings out into isolated, uninhabited regions beyond the fences. In most of these areas there is no fence of any kind marking the border; where private lands are adjacent to the border, there is usually just a typical barbed-wire cattle fence, which is easily crossed or cut down. Illegal migrants regularly do a lot of damage to private and public property in their efforts to make it into the United States.

  “The vibration sensors are generally considered effective in detecting movement. When motion is detected, Border Patrol surveillance officers make a best guess on the number of persons detected by the sensors and report this to the on-duty sector duty officer. He then checks the deployment of his sector patrol units. Based on unit availability and the number reported by the sensor operator and other factors such as weather, intelligence data on wanted persons traveling in a certain manner or area, distance to travel, and availability of support units and detention facilities, he or she makes the decision whether or not to deploy patrol units.”