America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 4: Demilitarized Zone
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America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 4: Demilitarized Zone
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Story Introductory Summary
Copyright Information
Author’s Acknowledgement
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Special Tribute
Changing Luck as told by Henry S. Knight, Jr.
About the Author
AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN LEGION
Book 4: Demilitarized Zone
by
Walter Knight
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Story Introductory Summary
Copyright Information
Author’s Acknowledgement
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Special Tribute
Changing Luck as told by Henry S. Knight, Jr.
About the Author
AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN LEGION
Book 4: Demilitarized Zone
The sweeping, satirical military space saga continues...
Decorated war hero Captain Joey R. Czerinski of the United States Galactic Foreign Legion faces new challenges when he and his platoon are ordered to planet New Colorado’s New Gobi Desert to guard the demilitarized zone dividing human-occupied territory from areas claimed by the Arthropodan Empire.
A new alien spider commander – and nephew of the Arthopodan Emperor – creates more headaches for Czerinski with his strict policies and competitive attitude. In the wake of his many ill-formed decisions, a young local militia hero emerges, giving Czerinski and his platoon even more trouble to deal with. But it is all water under the desert as Czerinski takes everything in stride and plays a deadly game of tit-for-tat and one-upmanship with the spider commander to maintain order in the volatile DMZ.
With chupacabra, Walmart, and McDonald’s thrown into the mix, the fourth installment of this politically incorrect military space opera aims straight for the funny bone.
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AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN LEGION
Book 4: Demilitarized Zone
Licensed and Produced through
Penumbra Publishing
www.PenumbraPublishing.com
SMASHWORDS EDITION
EBOOK ISBN/EAN-13: 978-1-935563-33-4
Copyright 2009 Walter Knight
All rights reserved
Editing Coordination: Patricia Morrison
Production / Cover Art Coordination: Judith Pilsner
Cover Art: W. K. Danes and G. E. Ambrose
Also available in PRINT ISBN/EAN-13: 978-1-935563-34-1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, planets, asteroids, alien species, evil empires, galaxies far, far way, or future events and incidents, are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or aliens, living or dead, events or locales including those on Mars and New Colorado, is entirely coincidental.
Licensing Note: This ebook is licensed and sold for your personal enjoyment. Under copyright law, you may not resell, give away, or share copies of this book. You may purchase additional copies of this book for other individuals or direct them to purchase their own copies. If you are reading this book but did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, out of respect for the author’s effort and right to earn income from the work, please contact the publisher or retailer to purchase a legal copy.
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~AUTHOR’S ACKNOWLEDGEMENT~
I dedicate America’s Galactic Foreign Legion – Book 4: Demilitarized Zone to the memory of my dad, Henry S. Knight, Jr., my American hero. Dad passed away July 11, 2010, at age 88. I’ve included a short story in his honor at the end of this book.
A special thanks to editor Patricia Morrison for still finding my books amusing escapist entertainment.
Also, hugs and kisses to my darling wife Barb, for her continued support.
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AMERICA’S GALACTIC FOREIGN LEGION
Book 4: Demilitarized Zone
by
Walter Knight
Chapter 1
The United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion Missile and Gunboat Predator patrolled the New Mississippi River all the way up to New Memphis. Past New Memphis lay the Arthropodan Empire. A demilitarized zone partitioned the planet of New Colorado since the last war, but New Memphis was a human enclave that existed north of the DMZ. It was the Predator’s mission to maintain humanity’s right-of-way on the river to New Memphis. Spider insurgents had threatened to blow up the Predator with suicide bombers riding in speedboats, but no attempts had occurred yet on this trip. Until now.
It was late at night, but I could see the profile of the approaching speedboat. Night vision technology allowed me to see much farther than the insurgents, even in the night fog. I ordered Corporal Williams to fire a cannon shell across their bow as I broadcast a warning on the PA system. “This is the United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion Gunboat Predator!” I announced. “Turn off your engines and prepare to be boarded! Failure to comply will force us to take countermeasures to ensure our safety and the safety of other river traffic!”
“They are still approaching,” advised our radar technician. “They’re coming straight at us!”
“Blow them out of the water,” I ordered. “Hit them with everything we have. The Legion does not pay you to bring ammo home!”
I am Major Joey R. Czerinski, hero of the Legion, and regional commander along the DMZ here on Planet New Colorado. I am more accustomed to ground fighting, but this section of the New Mississippi is also my responsibility. I arranged a ride-along to familiarize myself with riverboat patrol. A good commander learns the jobs of everyone serving under him.
Captain Gregoire let me take command of his boat as a courtesy. I felt I was doing everything by the book. The insurgents were warned. They had no one to blame but themselves if we sent them to the bottom of the river. Corporal Williams fired two missiles. I tracked the missiles on radar. Both hit, destroying the enemy. Our ship then ran aground, bottoming on shallow rocks.
As the fog cleared, it became more apparent I should have stayed on dry land where I belonged. Not only had I run the Predator aground, but I had also destroyed an automated lighthouse onshore. Dismayed, I put a fishing line off the bow of the Predator, and waited for the worst. My riverboat days were over. Captain Gregoire angrily approached me, carrying gear. I spoke first to cut off another tirade. “How long until we get off this sand bar?” I asked. “I don’t want to be stranded too long.”
“Sand bar? You ran us onto rocks!” shouted Captain Gregoire. “Thanks to your
incompetence, my ship is ruined!”
“Does that mean it will be a while?” I asked, annoyed. “I’m late, for a very important date.”
“The Predator is gutted!” fumed Captain Gregoire. “This ship is not going anywhere.”
“Can’t you call a tug boat to tow us home?” I asked. “Isn’t anyone coming to get us?”
“It’s a total loss,” growled Captain Gregoire. “Helicopters will lift us out eventually. I will see to it you are busted back to private, if it’s the last thing I ever do!”
“Whatever,” I replied, adding under my breath, “Annapolis Naval Academy asshole.”
“I heard that! You will show proper respect!”
“Whatever.”
Helicopters soon arrived, landing legionnaires to protect the Predator during salvage operations. I took command of a smaller riverboat that brought more supplies, and I proceeded up river at a leisurely pace to New Memphis. Captain Gregoire hitched a ride, sitting at the back of the boat, brooding. Every once in a while his eyes widened as he jotted down a note about how terrible a commander I was, and how it was all my fault his prized boat was gutted, and how I should never be allowed on the New Mississippi River again because I was a menace to commerce and everyone around me. I ignored the old duffer, concentrating instead on the speed and maneuverability of my new riverboat. This boat hauled ass!
About half way to New Memphis I saw a couple spider insurgents pop out of a spider hole along the bank of the river. One insurgent was aiming an RPG directly at me. The other had an old-style AK47. At first I did not react to the danger. It just seemed incredulous that someone other than Gregoire would want to kill me on a peaceful beautiful river like the New Mississippi. As Corporal Williams began firing his machine gun, I made a hard left and sped at the insurgents. The RPG went over us, landing harmlessly in our wake. As the insurgents ducked back into their hole, I smashed the boat onto the soft sandy bank and through the high grass. The boat bounced a few yards and came to rest next to the spider hole. I jumped off, firing my assault rifle into their hole. Then I dropped a grenade down the hole. When the smoke cleared, Corporal Williams went down the tunnel and retrieved spider bodies and equipment. It felt good to finally have something go right.
The good feelings ended when I explained on the radio to General Kalipetsis how I managed to beach two boats in one day. Also, in the confusion, Captain Gregoire had fallen overboard and was now missing in action. He had already been leaning left, scribbling his venomous notes, when he was lost overboard as I made the hard turn. No loss there, but it looked bad in my report.
* * * * *
General Kalipetsis was waiting for me at Legion Headquarters. “The spiders say we owe the Arthropodan Empire $235,000 for destroying an automated lighthouse! What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Lighthouses don’t cost that much,” I argued. “Don’t let those spiders cheat you. I’ll bet the Predator alone costs much more. At least I didn’t destroy the second boat. It was just stuck in the sand.”
“You think this is funny?” asked General Kalipetsis. “The money will come out of your paycheck!”
“Now that is funny.”
“I know you have millions on your card,” said General Kalipetsis. “How does a mere major become a millionaire on Legion pay?”
“Lucky at cards?” I suggested. “All you have to do is tell those spiders that insurgents blew up the lighthouse. They can’t prove anything.”
“What about the Predator?” asked General Kalipetsis.
“We needed a new riverboat anyway,” I said. “That rust bucket was due to be scrapped. Order a new one. Only this time get one of those slick new hydrofoil boats. They’re fast. Bigger is better, you know.”
“You will never find out how fast they are,” said General Kalipetsis. “I received a report of seismic readings in Sector 27 along the DMZ. Go check it out. It might be spider insurgents digging more tunnels.”
“Sector 27?” I asked, checking a map. “Isn’t that in the middle of the New Gobi Desert? There is nothing out there but sagebrush and rattlesnakes.”
“Good,” said General Kalipetsis. “You won’t be able to break anything. Let that be a lesson to you.”
“I killed at least two insurgents,” I protested. “Doesn’t that mean anything? There might have been insurgents in that lighthouse, too. In fact, I’m sure of it.”
“Insurgents in the lighthouse is not in your report or anyone else’s account of what happened,” said General Kalipetsis. “Take your sun-block. I hear the New Gobi Desert is very hot this time of year.”
* * * * *
As ordered, I took a company of legionnaires to Sector 27. We were airlifted with our armored cars and equipment. After the planes left, it seemed so quiet. The only sound was a desert breeze through the sagebrush. There were no landmarks for miles around, just sand, sagebrush, and a dirt road.
“Every time you screw up, we get posted somewhere awful,” complained Captain Lopez. “What did you do this time?”
“Shut up and start pitching tents,” I ordered. “Find the border markers. They should be giving off a beacon signal.”
“Sir!” yelled Corporal Williams. “I see a spider!”
Sure enough. Through my binoculars I too could see a spider guard shack at the crest of the next hill. A spider marine was waving at us. I drove our armored car over to investigate.
“Welcome to Hell,” said the spider guard. He seemed happy to see us. “Who did you piss off to get assigned here?”
“None of your business,” I said. “What is this? What are you doing here?”
“I am monitoring border traffic,” said the spider guard. “Can’t you tell?”
“There is nothing but lizards out here,” I said.
“Exactly,” said the spider guard. “And I am watching and counting every lizard that goes by. I was watching you land, earlier. If you human pestilence are invading the New Gobi Desert, I surrender! You can have it.”
“We landed here to investigate seismic activity,” I explained. “Are you digging tunnels?”
“To sneak across the border?” asked the spider guard. “Yes, that is it. You caught us!”
“I am serious,” I said. “I know you have been digging. What are you up to?”
“We have been drilling a well,” answered the spider guard. “I’m thinking about building a nice cool swimming pool. In a few hours, it’s going to be over 135 degrees out here. I suggest you find some shade.”
“Where?” I asked, looking about.
“Anywhere but here,” said the spider guard. “This shack is mine.”
“Is there any insurgent activity in this area?” I asked.
“What?” asked the spider guard. “No one is interested in this area. It is too hot. Insurgents are city dwellers. They would not last five minutes out here.”
In despair, I walked back to the armored car. At least it had air conditioning. Corporal Tonelli lingered by the guard shack. “My name is Guido,” said Corporal Tonelli. “Is there anything valuable out here?”
“Like what?” asked the spider guard. “Rocks? Do you want to dig for gold?”
“I have a case of vodka in the armored car,” said Guido. “Do you have anything worth trading for?”
“How about a cannon?” offered the spider guard. “RPGs?”
“Sorry,” said Guido. “I already have several of those. How many soldiers are in your unit?”
“That is top secret,” said the spider guard. “But bring over your case of vodka. I’ll give you the VIP tour.”
They walked beyond the next hill, where about a hundred spiders were camped. A well-drilling rig was digging through the dirt and rocks, throwing dust everywhere. So far, the spiders had not reached water. The spider guard introduced Guido to his commanding officer. Guido handed the officer a bottle of vodka.
“Thank you,” said the spider commander, happily pouring them all a drink. “Normally I would beware of human pestil
ence bearing gifts, but I will make an exception this time.”
“This is Guido,” announced the spider guard.
“Why has the human pestilence and its Mafia come out here?” asked the spider commander, eying Guido with all eight eyes.
“Mafia?” asked Guido. “What do you mean?”
“You are Italian, are you not?” asked the spider commander, checking his database notepad computer. “I am well aware that all Italians are members of the Mafia. Your human sub-category Italiano runs all the rackets and gambling in New Memphis. Do you deny that? Are you planning to build another casino way out here? Or are you a smuggler?”
“I am a legionnaire,” replied Guido. “I go where I am ordered to go.”
“The Legion heard our drilling equipment and thought we were digging a tunnel,” explained the spider guard. “There is a whole mechanized infantry company on the other side of the hill.”
“I know that,” said the spider commander, pouring another drink. “I saw them land, too.”
“Have you been out here long?” asked Guido.
“It seems like forever,” said the spider commander, sighing. “How did you get chosen to come out here and spy on us?
“We’re on a top-secret mission,” said Guido. “They chose the best of the best.”
“You pissed someone off?” asked the spider commander.
“Not me,” said Guido. “It was Major Czerinski.”
* * * * *
At the end of the day, I radioed a report to General Kalipetsis. “There is a whole company of spiders out here. They say the seismic activity we detected must have been caused by drilling.”