Chapter One

      “Would you rather face down half a dozen reporters at a press conference, or shoot it out with drug runners in the backcountry?”

      FBI Captain Graham Ellison gave his questioner, Montrose County sheriff’s deputy Lance Carpenter, a sour look. “Is that a trick question? At least with the drug runners I’ve got a fair chance. It doesn’t matter what I say at these press conferences. The media puts the spin on it they want.”

      “If the questions get too tough, just look menacing and tell them the safety of local citizens is your primary concern.” Carpenter clapped Graham on the back. “You’ll do great.”

      Graham eyed the crowd of reporters, cameramen and news trucks waiting in the parking lot outside the trailer that served as headquarters for The Ranger Brigade—the nickname given to an interagency task force addressing crime on public lands in southwest Colorado. “The safety of citizens is my primary concern,” he said. “Or one of them. I have a lot of concerns—and I don’t need reporters telling me how to do my job, or wasting my time listing all the ways I’m doing it wrong.”

      “I don’t think you’ve got any choice in the matter this time.” Lance studied the gathering over Graham’s shoulder. “Prentice and Senator Mattheson forced your hand.”

      Graham let out a low growl and shifted his focus to the newspaper that lay open on his desk. Twin headlines summed up his predicament: Mattheson Calls for Dismantling Task Force read one. Prentice Readies for Battle declared the other. Peter Mattheson, senator from Colorado, was on a crusade to “get the feds out of local law enforcement business” and “stop wasting money on federal boondoggles.”

      Richard Prentice, a billionaire who’d made a career out of buying up environmentally or historically valuable properties, then blackmailing the federal government into paying top dollar to save the parcels, had filed a lawsuit to force local authorities to allow him to develop property he owned at the entrance to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.

      Graham’s bosses in Washington had “suggested” he hold a press conference to address both these issues. “We’d better get out there before they start making stuff up,” Graham said. He straightened his shoulders, opened the door and stepped out into a hail of shouted questions.

      “Captain Ellison, have you spoken with Richard Prentice?”

      “Captain Ellison, has the death of Raul Meredes slowed drug trafficking in the area?”

      “Captain Ellison, how do you respond to Senator Mattheson’s criticisms of the task force?”

      Graham stood on the top step of the trailer and glowered at the gathered media. Flashes around him let him know his scowling face would be in newspapers all over the region tomorrow. More than one news account had described him as “a big bear of a man.” He hoped this time they’d look at him and think “grizzly.”