by PP
“Captain Czerinski is going to be upset,” advised Corporal Tonelli. “There was a reward posted for the Cable Guy.”
“Captain Czerinski will get over it,” said Lieutenant Lopez. He removed a bundle of hundred dollar bills found in the glove box and placed it in his inside coat pocket. “Whoever it is we killed were up to no good anyway, so it’s no big loss. We will use the armored car to push the van off the highway and into the woods.”
G.E. watched the legionnaires drive away. They were laughing and having a grand old time. It would take a while, but G.E planned to hike to his crashed shuttle. He would salvage more weapons and explosives. The human pestilence would pay for killing his comrades.
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CHAPTER 10
In the spring, the bridge was completed connecting Finisterra with East Finisterra. Road crews were now extending the North Highway to the Arctic Circle. General Kalipetsis obtained federal funding for a sewer and garbage treatment plant and reactor that produced electricity. Officials in New Memphis had complained about Finisterra dumping so much sewage and garbage into their river. The Feds even paid for a garbage truck and a sanitary engineer.
Also completed was the city jail. The public was asked to bring misdemeanants to the jail rather than shooting and throwing them into the river. We still had no judge, and the sanitary engineer refused to do two jobs. He’s a member of the Teamster’s Union, and Teamsters don’t do anything extra.
Elmo, a habitually drunk spider, held the distinction of being the first inmate trustee at the new city jail. Elmo’s cell was never locked, and he came and went as he pleased. One of Elmo’s jobs in the morning was to wash the Legion’s armored car. It amazed Elmo how muddy the human pestilence could get that car in just one day. Even so, Elmo was in a good mood and looked forward to starting the day. He took pride in his work, no matter how tedious the task. As Elmo approached the city garage, he hissed a human tune he had heard on the radio. Next to the armored car Elmo noticed a shopping bag. Elmo picked up the bag to look inside. A bomb, rigged with a mercury switch, killed Elmo instantly.
* * * * *
A surveillance camera in front of City Hall had recorded General Electric loitering in front of the garage at about 0330 hours. “Why does he have purple spots on his face?” I asked, replaying the tape again.
“I can think of no ailment my species has that would so afflict him,” replied Private Washington.
“Does anyone here recognize this guy?” I asked. “No offense, but you spiders sometimes all look the same to me.”
“I don’t get it,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I thought we wiped out the insurgents. Everyone is a happy camper now.”
“There is still a lot of hostility across the river in East Finisterra,” said Sergeant Green. “They think there is less gold over there and that the Legion screwed them. Could that spider on the video be one of the Arthropodan marines we let go and sent across the river?”
“I played the tape back again. “That might be Team Leader #4, AKA General Electric,” I said. “After his phony lawsuit went bust, he dropped out of sight. But what happened to his face?”
“War paint?” asked Lieutenant Lopez.
“Spiders do not paint themselves purple,” said Private Washington. “It looks like it was splattered on him.”
“Maybe he robbed a bank, and a purple dye pack exploded in his face,” suggested Corporal Ceausescu.
“Damn,” said Lieutenant Lopez. He took the bundle of hundred dollar bills out of his coat pocket and threw it down on the table. “That explains this money I found in that van we thought belonged to the Cable Guy. It must have been General Electric’s van, and he survived the attack.”
“You were holding out on us,” complained Corporal Tonelli.
“And he tried to get revenge on the drivers of the armored car,” I said. I turned to Corporal Kool. “Put out an all points bulletin for General Electric and attach that video. I am sure someone has seen him. Lieutenant Lopez, take the armored car to East Finisterra and ask around about General Electric. If you find any of the spiders from his old unit, arrest them for questioning.”
“East Finisterra is a rough place to be poking around,” commented Sergeant Green.
“General Electric isn’t going to wait for us to find him,” I said. “We need to rout him out before he strikes again.”
“Are we cops now?” asked Lieutenant Lopez. “This is bullshit. We need to get a sheriff.”
“I’ll put an ad in the paper,” I said. “You are right. We need someone else doing police work. But it’s the Legion’s job to hunt down terrorists. We will do it.”
“Can I be the sheriff?” asked Private Williams. “I always wanted to be a police officer.”
“No,” I answered.
“Oh come on. Why not?” asked Private Williams. “It would be a blast.”
“Because you are an idiot,” said Sergeant Green.
“The military can’t be the police. I think that law is in the Constitution,” I said. “However, whoever the sheriff is going to be, he will need deputies. I will appoint you to be a special liaison deputy for the Legion.”
“What is a liaison?” asked Private Williams.
“You will be my spy at the Sheriff’s Office,” I promised.
* * * * *
After crossing the bridge, the armored car sped through the streets of East Finisterra. Pedestrians scattered. An occasional bullet would ping off the armor. Lieutenant Lopez, riding up front, told Private Washington to not slow down for any reason. Sergeant Green rode up in the turret. As they rounded a corner, they were met with automatic weapons fire coming from a walled residence. An explosion left blue smoke obscuring the roadway. A red smoke flare went off. Private Washington did a hard right turn and crashed through a gate and wall into a patio area. Armed spiders scattered. Sergeant Green fired the cannon, blasting a hole in the house. He followed up with machine gun fire. Glass from windows flew everywhere. Spiders tossed their assault rifles down and ran for cover or surrendered.
“Don’t shoot!” yelled a well dressed spider, arms raised above his head. “I surrender.”
“Up against the wall,” ordered Sergeant Green. “All of you.”
“What is the meaning of this outrage?” asked the well dressed spider. “Why did you destroy my home?”
“Shut up!” said Sergeant Green. “I will ask the questions. Who is in charge of the insurgency? I want names or else.”
Lieutenant Lopez and the other legionnaires jumped out of the armored car and began searching spiders and stacking weapons. “Check the house,” he ordered.
“We are not insurgents,” said the well dressed spider. “I am the Mayor of East Finisterra. This is my daughter’s wedding you just destroyed.”
“What?” said Sergeant Green. “I have beachfront property in Arizona I will sell anyone who believes that. You were shooting at us. What about all these weapons?”
“Since when is it a crime to fire your assault rifle harmlessly into the air?” asked the Mayor of East Finisterra. “We have Constitutional rights. We were just celebrating. No one shot at you.”
“If this is a wedding, where are the bride and groom?” asked Sergeant Green.
Two spiders came out from hiding under a table and waved a white bridal veil as a flag of surrender. “Don’t kill us. We give up.”
“Where is the wedding cake?” asked Sergeant Green.
The mayor picked up a large smashed cake from the ground and brought it to Sergeant Green. “Some of it is still good. Want some?”
“You think you have answers for everything?” asked Sergeant Green, as he took a paper plate with cake on it. The mayor passed out plates of cake to the other legionnaires. “This is pretty good cake.”
“Do you have any ice cream?” asked Guido. “I think it’s a little dry.”
“The ice cream got run over,” said the mayor.
“How about some cha
mpagne or beer?” asked Guido.
“Shut up,” said Sergeant Green. Then he turned to the mayor. “Sorry about all of this. Is anyone hurt? We have a medic with us.”
More spiders ventured out of the rubble. No one was killed. A few were banged up a bit, mostly scratches and bruises. The bride’s wedding gown was ruined.
“Who is going to pay for what you did to my home?” asked the mayor. “Why are you here? The Legion never comes to this side of the river. Bandits run loose everywhere. The one time you cross the river, you blow up my house?”
“I’ve been here plenty of times,” said Sergeant Green. “And I always get shot at.”
“Take what we owe you from this,” offered Lieutenant Lopez, handing the mayor a bundle of hundred dollar bills from the bank robbery. “There should be more than enough.”
“Thank you very much,” said the mayor. “You also owe me for pain and suffering. Do you legionnaires always carry around this much money?”
“Of course we do,” replied Lieutenant Lopez. “We are all rich Americans.”
Private Washington passed out photos of General Electric. “Has anyone seen this terrorist?” he asked. “You will recognize him from the purple dye on his face and hands. He is wanted for murder. There is a substantial reward for General Electric, dead or alive.”
“He hangs out at the Only Tavern with a bunch of thugs,” replied the mayor. “If you want, I will issue an Order of Banishment for him and his associates. I was thinking about doing it anyway.”
“We will go to the Only Tavern and arrest him,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I will contact you later if I need your help.”
“Next time just ring the door bell,” said the mayor. Human pestilence have no manners.
* * * * *
The Only Tavern was on the edge of town. The parking lot was packed with cars and trucks parked everywhere. Private Washington parked the armored car by the front door in a handicapped space.
“You can’t park there,” said Private Williams. “It’s just wrong.”
“Are you afraid of getting a ticket?” asked Corporal Tonelli. “Who would write us a ticket?”
“Shut up you two,” said Sergeant Green. “I am tired of your noise.”
The crowd parted as they walked in. Lieutenant Lopez showed a spider bartender a photo of General Electric. “Seen him?” he asked. “I heard he comes here a lot.”
“Yes. But not today,” said the bartender. “Would you like a drink? It’s on the house.”
“How about his friends?” asked Lieutenant Lopez.
“They’re at the corner table playing poker,” answered the bartender.
Lieutenant Lopez approached the table of spiders playing poker. “Where is your team leader?” he asked. “I have a warrant for his arrest.”
“He is not our team leader anymore,” said a large spider, throwing down his cards and taking a drink. “#4 got half of us killed, and the rest of us marooned on this rock. Now he is off somewhere having issues.”
“Aren’t you all mining for gold?” asked Lieutenant Lopez.
“There is some gold on this side of the river, but not enough to make it worth my while to pan for it during the winter,” said the large spider.
“You are all under arrest for questioning, pending our investigation,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Stand up, you are coming with us.”
The music stopped. The large spider stood up and loomed over Lieutenant Lopez. Private Williams rushed forward as the spider picked Lieutenant Lopez up and threw him through a plate glass window into the street. The crowd pressed in on the legionnaires. Private Williams struck a spider in the face with the butt of his rifle. Corporal Ceausescu fired several rounds into the air and ordered the crowd to back off. Someone upstairs yelled in pain. Guido’s dragon bit a spider drunk that stepped on its tail. Several bottles were thrown. The crowd, half spider and half human, used that as a provocation to start a massive bar fight.
Lieutenant Lopez lay stunned on the ground beside the armored car. He looked up and saw a spider attempting to hook the armored car up to a tow truck.
“What do you think you are doing?” asked Lieutenant Lopez, still lying on the ground. “Get away from our vehicle.”
“You car is being impounded for being in a handicapped zone,” replied the wrecker driver. “Sorry. Do not interfere with the impound. You can pick it up at the city impound yard.”
Lieutenant Lopez drew his pistol and fired several shots at the wrecker driver. The driver fired several shots back before fleeing in his tow truck. Several cables snapped and flew about wildly as the armored car’s bumper held. Lieutenant Lopez climbed up in the turret and fired the cannon at the fleeing tow truck. The shell missed, but hit East Finisterra’s only 7-Eleven store. A human wearing a turban on his head came running out of the store, shaking his fist and swearing.
Corporal Kool was thrown out the same window that Lieutenant Lopez was tossed out. He landed on the hood of the armored car. Lieutenant Lopez turned the turret toward the window of the Only Tavern.
“Don’t do it!” yelled Corporal Kool, looking up at the cannon muzzle. “We still have legionnaires inside.”
Lieutenant Lopez elevated the cannon and blew up the second floor. Debris rained down on the first floor, ending the bar fight inside. Dusty legionnaires and tavern patrons staggered outside. Legionnaires piled back into the armored car. Private Washington burned rubber, knocking over the handicapped sign and crunching several parked vehicles as they left the tavern parking lot.
“There is some fool in a turban chasing us,” advised Sergeant Green, as they passed the 7-Eleven. “What’s his problem?”
“He is upset about his store,” said Lieutenant Lopez.
“He’s catching up with us,” said Guido.
“Shoot him,” suggested Lieutenant Lopez.
“I’m not shooting anyone until I find out for sure what he wants,” said Sergeant Green. “It’s not like it’s our fault his store blew up.”
“But it is our fault,” said Lieutenant Lopez as the armored car slowed down. The store owner caught up with them, rapping on the window next to Lieutenant Lopez. “It was our cannon shell that accidentally hit his store.”
“You blew up my store just because I am Hindu,” yelled the store owner. “What is your name?”
“Private Delacruz,” answered Lieutenant Lopez, as he tossed a grenade out the window and ordered Private Washington to speed up. The grenade rolled harmlessly under a parked car and exploded. Ralph Singh was last seen shaking his fist as they sped away.
* * * * *
I could see and hear machine gun fire and explosions from across the river, and was getting phone reports of a fierce battle raging. I called Lieutenant Lopez on the radio about it. Lopez said they had encountered a few insurgents, but that only he and Corporal Kool had been slightly injured. He said the Mayor of East Finisterra and local authorities had been helpful. They were proceeding down to the river to check some mining shacks where General Electric was reported to live. I advised Lieutenant Lopez I would be sending three helicopter gunships for immediate help and I would be personally leading a column of four tanks across the bridge shortly. General Kalipetsis promised fighter bombers if needed.
* * * * *
As they drove the armored car down Main Street toward the river, they passed a wrecking yard. The tow truck driver was just putting his tow truck back into his garage. Surprised to see the legionnaires again, he fired a clip from his assault rifle and then ran inside, closing the door. Sergeant Green fired the machine gun back, and then one round from the cannon for good measure. Observing the tracers from above, three Legion helicopter gunships swooped down and fired rockets into the wrecking yard. The tow truck driver dropped into his spider hole deep underground. His business was flattened. Smoke from old tires stacked everywhere billowed over East Finisterra.
Observing the escalation of fighting, I called General Kalipetsis requesting the jet fighter bombers.
/> “Did you see that?” asked Private Williams. “The whole place went up in smoke. What kind of round did you have in that cannon?”
“It must have been secondary explosions from munitions inside,” said Lieutenant Lopez as they pulled into the riverfront area. “We are going to kick in a few doors down here and see if anyone has seen General Electric.”
* * * * *
General Electric sat on his couch, watching cable TV. Earlier he had been out on his back porch deck fishing in the river. Now, all he wanted to do was drink beer and eat tortilla chips. A human football game was on the sports channel. Watching the game seemed to displace all of G.E.’s worries. The newspaper said spiders were forming football teams, too. He’d pay to see that. G.E. could hear distant explosions, but dismissed them as nothing more than an ongoing mining operation down the street.
