by PP
The bandit leader glanced up from under the hood, expecting to see the convoy any second. He could hear an annoying humming of the drone up above, but dismissed the sound as just ringing in his ears. Forest on both sides of the truck exploded in flames. The bandit leader dove for the ditch as a bomb hit the truck. The T. Roosevelt Weapons Platform once again did its work to perfection. The convoy quickly came into view and legionnaires easily captured the bandit leader. Two more bandits were dragged from the woods. The rest were dead. All three were bound with their hands behind their backs. Tonelli and Wayne arrived a few minutes later. Spot was still chewing on a femur bone from the lookout.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself before execution?” asked Lieutenant Lopez, confronting the bandit leader.
“I have Constitutional rights,” replied the bandit leader. “You can’t do this. I demand a fair trial.”
“We operate under Colonial Law,” advised Lieutenant Lopez. “You will be executed for being an undesirable on New Colorado. Do you have anything more to say?”
“My truck held an oil rig worker we hoped to ransom,” said the bandit leader. “You killed him. His blood is on your hands.”
Lieutenant Lopez shot the bandit leader in the head. “I’ll get over it,” he replied. A second bandit broke free and ran for the trees. Lieutenant Lopez shot him, too. Then he turned his attention to the last bandit.
“Please don’t kill me,” pleaded the bandit. “I’m only fifteen years old.”
“Not good enough,” said Lieutenant Lopez, as he aimed his pistol. “I don’t care about your age. You’re a cancer that needs to be cut out.”
“Let me join the Legion,” pleaded the bandit. “You allow all sorts into the Legion. How many of you have questionable pasts? Let me join, too.”
“We do not allow scum like you to enlist,” said Corporal Wayne, knife drawn as he stepped forward. “I will slit his throat quickly. He will feel minimal pain.”
“What are you doing?” asked Tonelli. “Leave the kid alone! It’s not necessary to execute him”
“The feel of my knife cutting through the soft skin of human pestilence pleases me,” admitted Corporal Wayne as he grabbed the bandit by the hair. “Hold still and die honorably.”
“Please!” screamed the bandit, turning back to Lieutenant Lopez. “My brother was in the Legion! He was even in First Division. Let me enlist!”
“Don’t lie to me, or you will die slowly,” said Lieutenant Lopez “What was your brother’s name?”
“Sergeant Hans Krueger,” replied the young bandit. “Did you know him?”
Lieutenant Lopez holstered his pistol. He stared at the bandit, their faces inches apart. “I see the resemblance,” he said. “Except Sergeant Krueger was a killer. You, however, are worthless to the Legion.”
“I can learn,” said young Krueger. “I have always wanted to join the Legion. I won’t let you down.”
“We are one recruit down,” advised Sergeant Green. “Let him enlist. He’ll probably get himself killed anyway, but who knows? He might work out.”
“Release him,” ordered Lieutenant Lopez. “Give him Private Adams’ equipment, web gear, flack jacket, and extra uniform.”
“You got lucky,” said Corporal Wayne, releasing Krueger with a shove. “But your luck won’t last forever. I’ll be watching you.”
“Corporal Wayne,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Private Krueger is your responsibility. Teach Krueger what he needs to know to survive.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Private Krueger. In his excitement, he stumbled and stepped on Spot’s tail. The dragon lunged. The Legion almost lost its newest recruit, but Tonelli pulled the dragon back just inches from Private Krueger’s face.
“Watch where you step, you dumb-ass newbie,” yelled Tonelli. “You won’t last a week.”
“Keep that dragon away from Krueger,” ordered Lieutenant Lopez. “I don’t want that dragon anywhere near Krueger. Understand?”
“Whatever,” said Tonelli. “It won’t save him. The kid can’t walk and chew gum at the same time.”
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CHAPTER 16
Camp Alaska was the crossroads for deployment of oil drilling equipment and mining equipment for the entire Arctic region. Its streets were muddy when not frozen. Houses were prefabricated and temporary. No one noticed another column of oil rigs escorted by legionnaires when they arrived in town.
Lieutenant Lopez ordered the armored car dropped off in front of a truck repair shop. “I am giving everyone two days off,” he said. “Sergeant Green and I will be staying with the armored car. All of you are expected to report in at 0900 and 1700 every day. Report late, and I will hunt you down and put you on guard duty for the duration of our stay in Camp Alaska. Stay in groups of at least four so you don’t get mugged. Dismissed!”
Wayne, Tonelli, Camacho, and Krueger easily found the North Slope Tavern. Oil rig workers and miners packed the bar. Workers gave Spot a wide berth as Tonelli led the dragon inside.
“Give me whiskey,” said Private Krueger, slapping money on the bar. “Leave the bottle!”
“Son, you are too young to drink here,” advised the bartender. “You have to go.”
“I’m in the Legion,” replied Private Krueger. “Can’t you see my uniform? I’m not going anywhere.”
“You are the shortest legionnaire I have ever seen,” said the bartender. “What are you, about twelve years old?”
Private Krueger reached in his pouch and pulled out a grenade, setting it on the counter. “Are you going to serve me, or am I going to have to get angry?”
“You better keep an eye on your boy,” Tonelli said to Wayne. “Did you see that? He has a grenade.”
“So? We all have grenades,” said Corporal Wayne. “Krueger can take care of himself. Now give me some room and don’t bother me with the little stuff.”
“Hear that?” said Private Camacho. “You are cramping Wayne’s style.”
“No one asked for your opinion,” said Tonelli.
“Lighten up,” said Private Camacho, eyeing some female oil rig workers sitting at the next table. “I’m going to go talk to those babes. Be my wingman.”
Tonelli followed Camacho to the ladies’ table. To Tonelli they seemed ugly. Camacho offered to buy a round of drinks and asked if he could join them.
One of the female oil rig workers, who was very drunk, sized up the two legionnaires and then turned her attention to Spot. “What a darling lizard,” she gushed, reaching out to pet the dragon on the snout.
With lightning speed Spot snapped off two of her fingers. The oil rig worker pulled back, screaming, with blood squirting everywhere. One of the ladies drew a pistol, intending to shoot the dragon. Camacho wrestled the pistol from her, knocking the table over. Another lady pulled out a switchblade knife. By now the commotion had attracted the attention of other oil rig workers. They came to the aid of their ladies. Krueger stood in the middle of the confrontation, waving his grenade and warning everyone to stand back.
“That grenade ain’t real,” said one of the oil rig workers. “Rush him!”
Private Krueger pressed the timer button on the grenade and tossed it at the feet of the oil rig workers. Everyone dove for cover. Shrapnel from the explosion injured about six oil rig workers. The legionnaires ran out the front door during the chaos. They kept running until they reached the other side of town, where they found another tavern.
Corporal Wayne read the signs in front of the tavern. The place was called the Arthropoda Tavern. Another sign read ‘English Spoken Here.’ “This looks like a good place,” commented Corporal Wayne. “There will be no more fighting and no more grenades. This is a respectable place.”
A large spider bouncer met them at the door. He blocked their entry. “There are no lizards and no human pestilence allowed inside,” the bouncer announced.
“See?” said Corporal Wayne. “I told you it was a respectable place.”
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“We are the Legion,” slurred Private Krueger. “We will go anywhere we please.”
“Do you see that little human pestilence?” asked Corporal Wayne, pointing at Private Krueger. “He is crazy. You don’t want to upset him. He just blew up the North Slope Tavern because someone said a lot less to him than what you just said. Call the North Slope if you don’t believe me.”
The bouncer made some phone calls. The manager soon arrived and greeted them. “Of course we are pleased to have the Legion as our guests,” he said. “It’s just that spider drinks are much too strong for human consumption. You might be accidentally poisoned, and we want to avoid that kind of scandal. I certainly meant no slight toward the Legion.”
“Too strong for humans?” asked Private Krueger, brushing past the manager and seating himself on a bar stool. “I’ll take that risk. I heard you bugs like vodka. Bring it on!”
“This might not be such a good idea,” advised Private Camacho, as he followed Private Krueger. Looking about, he saw nothing but spider patrons. “This don’t look safe.”
“Got any music?” asked Tonelli, ignoring the stares. “This place is dead.”
“I like it here,” said Corporal Wayne, eyeing a gaggle of alluring spider females sitting in the corner.
“You better check Krueger for more grenades,” suggested Tonelli. “This is the last tavern we can get kicked out of. There’s no more for a thousand miles.”
“Krueger will pass out soon,” replied Corporal Wayne, as he approached the females. “The shrimp can’t hold his liquor. You baby-sit Krueger. I am going to be busy.”
* * * * *
Lieutenant Lopez arrived at the North Slope Tavern to investigate a wild report that Legionnaires had bombed the place. Impossible! The tavern is still here, he thought. Corporal Ceausescu came along to render first aid if needed. Privates Brown, Scoggins, and Washington came along because they were required to follow Corporal Ceausescu. All were upset because they were beginning to sober up, an unacceptable condition for young legionnaires on a two-day pass.
“It is about time you got here,” complained the bartender. “I should have called the sheriff.”
“You calling the sheriff’s office isn’t going to do any good, because we don’t have a sheriff yet,” explained Lieutenant Lopez. “Are you sure it was legionnaires who damaged your place?”
“Of course I’m sure!” replied the bartender. ‘They wore Legion uniforms. How hard can it be to find that motley looking group? Do you realize how much business I lost tonight?”
“I have a better question,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Do you realize how much business you will lose if I drop a two thousand block of cement from space on to the roof of your tavern?”
“Lots,” answered the bartender, meekly.
“Good. Get over whatever happened here tonight or else,” ordered Lieutenant Lopez. “I’m sure my legionnaires did not intentionally bomb your tavern. If you ever make that accusation again, you will find out the hard way what it is really like to have the Legion bomb your tavern. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said the bartender.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Lopez stayed at the North Slope, accepting free drinks for the rest of the night. Corporal Ceausescu led her charges across town in search of another tavern. She didn’t like hanging out with Lopez. They found the Arthropoda Tavern. A spider bouncer met them at the door, shrugged, and let the legionnaires enter. By now the band was playing weird spider music. Corporal Ceausescu looked about, sizing up the crowd. The place was busy and full of spiders.
Private Camacho was at the bar. He pointed up, then waved for her to come over. She saw Private Krueger wrapped in a web cocoon for drunkenness, hanging upside down from the ceiling. Krueger vomited between screams, demanding to be let down. Corporal Wayne was in a corner booth, kissing on four female spiders. Gross! Corporal Tonelli was on stage playing a saxophone type instrument with the band. His dragon, who also had been drinking vodka, lay under the bar counter. He appeared to be dead. Corporal Ceausescu poked Spot with a pool stick. No response. Then she sat on a stool next to Private Camacho.
“What’s with Krueger?” asked Corporal Ceausescu, watching him sway back and forth. “Did he really set off a grenade at the North Slope?”
“Krueger can’t handle his liquor,” replied Private Camacho, as he placed his hand on Ceausescu’s knee. “He gets stupid.”
Corporal Ceausescu removed Private Camacho’s hand from her leg and ordered beer mixed with vodka. Private Camacho put his hand back on her leg, caressing its full length. Corporal Ceausescu gulped her drink, then reached for her combat knife. She looked Private Camacho in the eyes. “Oh what the hell,” she said, embracing and kissing him passionately. Spiders near them cheered and raised their drinks in a toast.
“Why don’t you two get a room?” suggested the bartender, slightly annoyed at such brazen human pestilence behavior.
“You have rooms here?” asked Private Camacho.
“No,” replied the bartender. “Most lovers just go up to the roof. It’s upstairs.”
Ceausescu and Camacho left together. Female spiders approached Privates Washington, Brown, and Scoggins. Washington displayed his wedding rings and was left alone after mild protests. The females loved Private Brown’s Legion uniform. Spiders in the Legion was a novel concept for them, and they liked it. Private Brown fell into their arms and was carried away. Soon Private Scoggins wandered off with a couple female spiders too. He was never seen or heard from again.
* * * * *
All leave at Camp Alaska was canceled because of drunk and disorderly complaints. The armored car was repaired, and Lieutenant Lopez was busy checking out its computer systems. Sergeant Green and Corporal Wayne arrived as ordered to assist.
“I am pleased with your progress, Corporal Wayne,” commented Lieutenant Lopez. “You’re a born leader and obviously well trained in your past life.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Corporal Wayne. “I love the Legion life.”
“I want you to learn how to run the computer systems for the command car,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “You will fly the drone and call in air strikes in case something happens to me or Sergeant Green.”
Corporal Wayne leaned over the computer screen. A green glow filled the small space inside the armored car. Lieutenant Lopez and Sergeant Green stared at Corporal Wayne in disbelief. His face awash in green light, they both recognized General Electric. Lieutenant Lopez drew his pistol. Sergeant Green aimed his assault rifle.
“What is this?” asked Corporal Wayne. “What did I do?”
“You are an insurgent,” accused Lieutenant Lopez, cocking his pistol. “Admit it!”
“I will not,” protested Corporal Wayne. “I was a Special Forces marine sent to assist the insurgency. But that is over now. I am a loyal legionnaire.”
“You deny you are General Electric?” asked Lieutenant Lopez. “I dare you to deny who you are.”
“I used to be General Electric,” admitted Corporal Wayne. “But now I am a corporal in the Legion. I have a valid enlistment contract.”
“Screw your contract!” yelled Lieutenant Lopez, grabbing Corporal Wayne by the collar and shoving him against a bulkhead. “You are an insurgent! You cannot ever be in the Legion!”
“For that small technicality you would force me out of the Legion?” asked Corporal Wayne. “But you had no problem letting Krueger in?”
“I will kill you,” said Lieutenant Lopez.
“Kick me out. Kill me. It is all the same,” said Corporal Wayne. “If I cannot be in the Legion, I want to die anyway.”
“Maybe we should let Captain Czerinski make the call on this one,” suggested Sergeant Green. “Catching General Electric is a big deal. He should be interrogated.”
“Captain Czerinski would shoot G.E. on the spot without discussion,” said Lieutenant Lopez, holstering his pistol. “I’ll let you stay in the Legion, for now. Go back to the barracks. Remembe
r, we will be watching you.”
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CHAPTER 17
Today I met the new recruits. Lieutenant Lopez advised that several spiders had already distinguished themselves. One spider was even promoted to corporal. As I inspected the troops, I attempted to use the mind reading chip as I passed the spiders. I didn’t bother with Private Washington because his many psycho thoughts depressed me and gave me headaches. As I read their minds, the spider recruits were all singing inside their heads. If I didn’t know better, I would swear they were conspiring to block my mind reading technology. But that would mean the spiders knew about my chip.
