"The idea," Zamacona says, "came from a bunch of stories I'd heard about this unit that existed in the '80s. My tech advisor, Louis St. Clair, had heard about this. In the middle and late '80s in L.A., the murder rate was over 2,000. So the Sheriff's Department and the mayor and the LAPD got together and put together this group that would just go hunt down the 100 worst guys."

As to whether the group still exists, Zamacona says, "Nope. They got their 100 guys, and then the U.S. Marshals Service came over, and they have a task force in L.A."

Zamacona liked the idea of a multidisciplinary force, with a variety of tools and tactics, working just outside the system -- and occasionally just outside the law -- to nail particularly heinous offenders. But, he emphasizes, this is not the morally ambiguous LAPD Strike Force portrayed in FX's "The Shield," led by hard-hitting but ethically challenged Detective Vic Mackey (Michael Chiklis).

"This is moral cops," he says. "It's heroic cops. It's not amoral, corrupt policemen."

Rose, a father of two who's going through a divorce, has assembled a team that crosses agencies, personalities and backgrounds. ATF agent Jimmy McGloin (Ryan Hurst) can recite chapter and verse of the Bible, never met a gun he didn't recognize, and is a political conservative. Carla Merced (Rashida Jones, daughter of Quincy Jones and Peggy Lipton) hails from Naval Intelligence, and is an expert hostage negotiator.

Cocky FBI agent Tommy Rodriguez's (Benjamin Benitez) relentless womanizing is both an undercover asset and occasional hazard. LAPD technical genius Rodney Gronbeck (Josey Scott, lead singer of the band Saliva) boasts a lot of ink and metal, but has a first-class mind.

DEA agent Joe Vacco (Brendan Kelly) lives in the team's waterfront warehouse headquarters because he's been booted from his own place. The last to join -- in episode two, the one in production on this day -- is U.S. Marshal Eddie Drake (Lee Tergesen), who studied under Rose at the L.A. Metro Police Academy. He takes a break from bar ownership to sign onto the team after a member goes down in the line of duty.

The mix is intentional, especially the presence of McGloin's conservative voice.

"Not everybody is a lefty liberal," Zamacona says. "I'm a little left of Attila, but it's a balancing act. All we want is a balance. He's not always right. Nobody's always right. I like these points of view being represented in this group, because they come from different training and disciplines. They don't get along. They're a little pissy with each other."

Zamacona also wants the show to be about more than just nabbing crooks.

"I think it has a strong moral core," he says, "with spiritual overtones about right and wrong and good and evil. That's what I'm after. I like flawed human beings who are trying to figure out what right and wrong means for them, good and evil, what God is."

Does he believe evil exists in the world? "I do," he says. "I'm interested in the notion of a card-carrying member of whatever faith, all of whom have a common denominator of 'Thou shalt not kill,' when part of the job is to kill or prepare to kill. What is the emotional hangover of that?"

Cole sees a lot of that in the character of Rose. "I think what Jorge's trying to portray, especially using the family, is how tipped it is. What cops walk through and deal with, then they're dealing with school principals and homework, picking the kids up. It's almost schizophrenic.

"He goes from brutality -- some of the stuff, when it turns into violence, gets unspeakable -- to domestic things and back again. It's surreal. It's very unbalanced."

At the other end of the spectrum is the freewheeling Drake, described by Tergesen as "a loose cannon with a quick wit," who's just not introspective enough for angst. "Am I a rogue officer?" Tergesen says. "Rogue sounds like a bad lieutenant. I'm a U.S. Marshal. I do things my way."

Zamacona is doing this show with a smaller staff and a third less budget than he had for his ABC police drama "10-8." In return for that, he gets to do his pilot and 12 episodes without a lot of middle-management interference.

"I'm loving this," he says. "They made me TV-MA (mature audiences), Sunday nights at 10 p.m. No F-bombs, but the language situation is great. It's a beautiful convergence of trust. They've trusted me with the level of violence, blood and sex. They're not riding me. They're trusting me to deliver what they can air."