The Next Morning
Department of Homeland Security - Los Angeles Field Office
Nicholas Harrison - known to many of his friends and teammates as "Iceman" both for his Canadian nationality and his ability to maintain calm under pressure - was not a happy man as he drove towards the L.A. field offices of the Department of Homeland Security. He had received an e-mail about the big anti-cartel Task Force that Grey Sword was involved with and the fact that all the teams deployed in the U.S. would have a federal agent attached to them.
In his mind, they were being asked to fight a cartel while dragging a cop around who'd probably be looking over their shoulders, spying on them for her superiors and might still have the unmitigated gall to try and hit them over the head with a rulebook.
He reached out to his team's intel specialist, Pavel "Ace" Morzodrenko and asked him to send over her files. He was impressed that she'd spent a few years as a Navy SEAL. But he still wasn't going to welcome her with open arms.
The minute she was trying to throw her badge around like it meant anything, come hell, high water or otherwise, he'd get her off of his team and out of his way.
When he arrived, the rest of his team was already waiting for him. He greeted them and they made their way into the room.
"Please, find yourselves a seat." Said the D.H.S. agent escorting the visitors to the board room as the door was drawn open wide to allow the group of seven into the interior.
As soon as they started coming in, Frankie had drawn out of her seat.
"Agent Frankie Rae, I'll be filling out your team." She said as she made her way across the table to greet the team.
The first person she walked up to was a tall, muscular black man wearing a Black short sleeve t-shirt, OD Green cargo pants and Black steel toed hiking-type boots.
Frankie wasted no time walking up and offering her hand to shake.
"Mr. Donovan, a pleasure." She said. "Seven years in the Raiders, no easy feat."
"Nice to meet you too. You can call me "Preacher", by the way." He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as she mentioned his time in one of the most elite units in the U.S. Marine Corps. "Yeah, if bein' a Raider was easy, I probably would've done something else." The man said before making his way to a seat.
With a small nod, she released his hand and looked towards the next person to come through the door.
An older man with burns on the left side of his face and eyes as blue as a clear sky and as piercing as a blade. He wore a Coyote Brown short sleeve t-shirt, Blue jeans and Dark Brown and Black hiking shoes.
"Mr. Wolfe. Your aim precedes you." Frankie remarked.
He shook her hand and nodded a little at her compliment.
"Just a man doin' his job. And Big Bad will suit me just fine" He said.
Next was a black woman who stood at Frankie's height wearing a Pink and Black Raglan shirt, Black jeans that hugged her curves and Black running shoes.
"Ms. Devereaux, it's nice to finally meet a female with as much... enthusiasm for the job as me." She said shaking Lexi's hand.
"Oh, well aren't you just a charmer? You can call me 'Demo'. Anything that breaks up the overwhelming amount of testosterone that I deal with on a daily basis is a godsend in my book." Lexi said with a bit of a smile on her face as she shook the pretty female agent's hand
Next was a man with with low cut brown hair. He had a young looking face, but his eyes and body language told her that he had seen his fair share of trouble before. He wore a Black bomber jacket, OD Green t-shirt, Dark Brown cargo pants and Black five toed shoes.
"Mr. Morzodrenko, your work with the GRU's Cyber Warfare Unit was unprecedented. I look forward to picking your brain." she said with a small smile.
He nodded as she used his real name and talked about picking his brain as he shook her hand.
"You can call me 'Ace.' People seem to find that easier. And you won't be the first to try."
The next man was the most casual dressed of them all, wearing Gold-rimmed Aviator shades, a sleeveless White t-shirt, Blue jeans that looked like they had been through quite a lot and worn brown cowboy boots.
"Mr. Westbrook. Sixteen years is quite a career." She said as she held out her hand for another.
He looked down at her extended hand, but didn't accept it.
"This better be f**kin' important if I woke up before 10 A.M." He said as he walked past her to find a seat.
Next was a man who looked, at least at a glance, more at home in a magazine than on an op. He wore a pair of Black wrap around sunglasses which were positioned on top of his head, a White short sleeve Polo shirt, Black cargo pants and Black sneakers.
"Mr. Barnes..." She started as she extended her hand once again. "Six years in the SASR? Glad to have your skill set on board."
The tall Australian looked her up and down as she spoke.
"You can call me Cole, Doc or anytime you'd like. If you need anything...anything at all, don't hesitate to let me know, love. You know what they say about combat medics: The louder you scream, the faster we come." Cole said with a wink as he made his way over to a seat, checking out her butt on the way.
Finally was a man whose eyes and aura just screamed 'person in charge', wearing a Black button down shirt, Dark Grey cargo pants and Black hiking shoes.
As he stepped up, she let her eyes meet with his briefly before extending her hand.
"And Mr. Harrison..." She said as she reached outward to shake his hand. "There was a lot of black ink in your file, but I have to admit that I was pretty impressed with what I could make out."
"Iceman." He corrected. "I see you've done your homework. Well so have we." He said as he shook her hand.
"I expected no less, Iceman." She replied simply.
After having a moment of tense silence, the two released their grip and made their way to their respective seats.
'Well. I guess that went about as well as I could have asked.' She thought to herself.
From the word go, the woman had expected that her role in this entire thing was going to be met with pushback. Each introduction was as friendly as circumstances probably would have permitted. All except the man that she mentally dubbed 'Mr. Casual', that is. Mentally, she kicked herself for the way she was dressed. In her time with D.H.S., she had gotten used to having to dress more professionally, hence why she wore a pantsuit and short simple heels. These guys looked ready to gear up at a moment's notice.
It was her hope that in reading her file there would have at least been an understanding that she hadn't always been a badge number. Regardless, she had taken her seat there amongst the group of them and had let a deep, quiet breath soothe for the moment.
Niceties aside, there had been a purpose behind each and every one of her introductions. She was sure that the team of men and women before her was aware that she had likely been given their files. The introductions were her way of letting them know that she knew who she was dealing with.
As everyone settled into their seats, a man in a suit walked in with a folder in his hand.
"Good morning everyone. I'm Special Agent Thompson and I'll be doing your mission brief. As you know, the aim of this Task Force is to bring down the Malzera Cartel. In order to do that, various federal law enforcement agencies are putting together resources and intel to put together target packages for units like yours to conduct operations. This means raiding labs and stash houses, this means breaking up their contraband deals, this means dismantling their business relationships with other criminal organizations." Special Agent Thompson said before picking up a small remote off of the table and pressing a button turning on the projector.
The picture was of a well dressed Hispanic man.
"This is Esteban Mendoza. He is the manager of the Grand National Bank downtown. A lot of Cartel money is washed through there. More than likely, he has some record of the transactions in his possession in the event he ever turned state's witness. That could help us see just how much money goes through there and where it goes." Thompson explained.
"There's likely somebody watchin' him almost 24 hours a day." Iceman said.
"Why do you say that?" Asked Tex.
"Trustin' one guy with that much cash? You're gonna want someone close by to deter him from skimming." Doc said.
"Any idea where the ledger might be?" Asked Preacher.
"It's likely in one of two places. Either in his home office or at his work computer." Special Agent Thompson replied.
"We hit one and then the other, someone will get the word out and we might lose that ledger." Demo said.
"Sounds like we need to be in two places at once." Big Bad said.
"It wouldn't be the first time we've pulled something like that off." Ace responded.
"What can D.H.S. do for you?" Agent Thompson asked.
"Staying out of our way should be plenty. We're already dragging one badge around. I don't need any more when the bullets start flying." Nick said as he looked around the table.
"Big Bad, you take Ace, Doc and Demo. Hit the house, it might be in that home office. I'll take the rest of the team and go to the bank. There's a strong possibility that someone might be sitting on both places, so we need to be able to move fast and hard. Vests and long guns, people." He directed.
"I feel I need to remind you that this isn't a warzone. This is The United States of America. We have laws in this country. You can't just kick in doors because you feel like it." replied Thompson.
Iceman stood up from his chair and looked at the man.
"You ever fire your weapon in the line of duty?" He asked simply.
"Excuse me?" Thompson asked, a confused look on his face.
"It's a simple question." The contractor said.
"No. No I haven't." Thompson admitted.
"Then the next time you feel the need to remind me of something, it'd be in your best interest to keep it to yourself." Nick said, making his way out the door, the rest of the team following behind.
Frankie's eyes had shifted amongst the group of them as they took turns ironing out the particulars of the op, though she remained quiet throughout the briefing. In addition to having basically being read in on the plan for the day, she wanted to get a feel for the kind of people that she would be working with. Her eyes settled on Nick as he handed out orders.
The SEAL in her could appreciate this team's hit the ground running approach. However, she thought that Agent Thompson also had a point. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as Nick told off Thompson, those she got rid of it quickly.
Iceman had stood and like a chain reaction, so too had the team. Frankie glanced toward Thompson before she too got up to walk out of the board room. It stuck out to her that her heels clicked on the tile floors of the hallway as she walked out with everyone else.
As Iceman made his way past Agent Rae, she gave off an air about her. She was still young and probably looking to prove herself. He'd worked with plenty of SEALs in his time as both a JTF-2 operator and a contractor. They could handle themselves in a firefight, for sure, but they always seemed to have something to prove. He'd seen that attitude get plenty of people killed.
Frankie could tell what the older team leader was probling thinking as he looked her over. She was young, sure, but her record in the Navy and the D.H.S. spoke for itself. Going into the Navy and prior to starting SQT and BUD/S, she'd had a chip on her shoulder. But the grueling nature of the training broke her of that. She had a chance to be apart of something big, and she wouldn't let herself be the weak link.
When Special Agent Thompson came into the room, Iceman was ready for this briefing to be over so they could get out of this palace of bureaucracy. When he was still in JTF-2, he'd crossed paths with D.E.A. agents assigned to help destroy Afghan poppy farms which funded the insurgency. In his experience, it didn't take a long time or many ops for them to get so full of themselves that they thought they personally were making huge progress in the War on Drugs and stopped hunting them so aggressively.
In his eyes, Thompson's words were nothing more than the man practicing for a press conference. He didn't need to concern himself with being buried in red tape. He was going to be heading to Grand National Bank downtown to look for a ledger that Mendoza kept of all the cartel cash that went through there. It seemed a little too obvious of a hiding spot, but maybe Mendoza was hoping that the Cartel would think the same thing. Once the meeting was over, everyone made their way out of the room.
As they made their way through the hall, Iceman and Big Bad were talking in more detail about the plan.
"You sure you want to take the copper?" The Brit asked.
"I wanna keep an eye on her. Her file says she was a SEAL, so I don't doubt that she can handle herself in a fight. Besides, a bunch of heavily armed guys walkin' into a bank that launders money for a drug cartel? It might help to have a badge with us. You're just kickin' down some housewife's door." Nick said.
"Fair enough. But still…" Big Bad said before Agent Rae's voice could be heard from the back of the group.
"Mr. Harrison." Frankie called out, though He didn't seem to acknowledge it.
"So, what about L.A.P.D.? Are they gonna be in on this?" Tex asked.
"No. But we'll have 'em on call if we need 'em." Preacher explained.
When no initial response had come, she spoke up again.
"Nick..." She figured the slight raising of her voice and the fact that she used his first name would invoke a response, but again, nothing.
Just then, Agent Rae realized that she needed to take a different approach.
"Lucia. Daniel. Maria. Manuel. Ana." She said, her voice rising over any of the current conversations.
This made everyone stop and look at her. Her words were enough to draw Nick's eyes to her.
"Those are the names of Mendoza's wife and children who reside in the home that you're planning on hitting." As she spoke, she had stepped forward through the group to reach the front where Iceman was. Now that she had his attention, she returned to a normal conversational tone.
"I'm all for storming the castle... Hell, it might even be my favorite part." She confessed. "But we're in downtown L.A., not Yemen."
That brought a small, brief twitch to Iceman's eye. His last op in Yemen didn't go all that well.
"Alright then. Change of plan. We hit both targets. Low profile." Nick said as he looked in Rae's eyes.
"Right then, boss. We'll let you know when we're there." Big Bad said as he and his element broke away from the group and headed for the elevators.
After giving the four a nod, Iceman returned his eyes to Rae, looking over her outfit before looking into her eyes.
"Me and my guys will be waiting in the parking deck. Put on something you're willing to get in a gunfight in." He said as he, Preacher and Tex made their way to an elevator.