America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 1: Feeling Lucky

by Walter Knight

  “Abandono,” said Lieutenant Lopez, as he threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I give up, Green. You win.”

  Legionnaires handed out assault rifles, ammo, and grenades in exchange for jewelry. Then they headed back to Capital Square for re-supply and to report. They shot up a bunch of looters along they way. It was Arthropoda’s first drive by shooting. Suddenly Lieutenant Lopez ordered the armored car to a halt next to a large wall at the approaches to Capital Square. He reached into the glove box and pulled out a spray can of Legion olive drab paint. “I have an inspiration!” shouted Lieutenant Lopez as he ran over to the wall with spray paint in hand.

  “What is it with you Hispanics and spray paint?” asked Sergeant Green, shaking his head. “Even a planet millions of miles away from Earth isn’t safe from tagging. I’ll never understand you people.”

  “Don’t mess with me when I’m having an artistic inspiration,” warned Lieutenant Lopez as he drew a WWII ‘Kilroy was here’ man peering over a wall. On the cartoon wall he spray-painted ‘Free New Colorado.’ Then he added ‘XIV’ for all his homies back on Earth.

  “That’s the best you’ve got?” asked Sergeant Green.

  “It just came to me.” Lieutenant Lopez shrugged and got back into the armored car.

  * * * * *

  Back at Capital Square, Sergeant Green volunteered to go out on another recognizance mission. I asked Sergeant Green if he was bucking for officer rank like Lieutenant Lopez.

  “Sir, I just want to do my part for the war effort,” insisted Sergeant Green.

  “I’m pleased with your progress as a Sergeant. You are a natural leader,” I added. “But you don’t usually volunteer for missions.”

  “Captain Czerinski, are you questioning a brother’s creditability?” asked Sergeant Green. “I’ve always thought better of you.”

  “No, of course not,” I replied. “If any missions come up, I will let you know. Dismissed.”

  CHAPTER 17

  I went to the top floor of the Imperial Palace to see how our snipers were doing. Legionnaires out on the barricades were still taking sniper fire, and I wanted our snipers to do something about it. Each sniper worked with a spotter. I grabbed a spotter’s scope and looked for targets.

  “It’s a target-rich environment down there,” commented Corporal Krueger. “Mostly civilians. I try to take out anyone with a gun.”

  “We’re being sniped at,” I complained. “Try to take out anyone shooting from that red building behind the crowds.” I scanned the crowds looking for leaders. I saw #14 and #15 walking with a civilian carrying a loud speaker, shaking hands. “See those two spider officers dressed in black over by the command car? Take them out!”

  “I see them, but I can’t get a clear shot because there are too many civilians around them,” said Corporal Krueger.

  “I don’t care about clear shots or civilians,” I said. “You can kill them all, for all I care. Just kill those two!”

  Corporal Krueger fired five two-shot bursts. Spider body parts flew everywhere from the 50-cal. impacts. I couldn’t tell if the two officers were hit or not. It was chaos down there now. I brought my scope up to the top floor of the red building behind the crowds and zoomed in on the windows. I saw a spider sniper with a scope zooming in on me! I ducked back as bullets punched through the wall next to me.

  “The sniper is on the top floor of that red building!” I yelled.

  “I can’t see him,” complained Corporal Krueger.

  “Well then what are you good for? I’m leaving,” I announced. “It’s way too drafty up here.” I radioed down to Lieutenant Lopez to put a cannon shell onto the top of the red building. Lieutenant Lopez was not a happy camper.

  “We have taken more casualties after we won the war than we did during the war,” complained Lieutenant Lopez.

  “Our snipers are hitting their snipers,” I assured Lopez. “Just don’t let the crowds get too close.”

  * * * * *

  Lieutenant Lopez looked out over the barricade at the crowd getting closer. Some were throwing rocks. Suddenly a Molotov cocktail exploded just short of Lieutenant Lopez’ barricade. Lieutenant Lopez rapped on the turret of the armored personnel carrier to get the gunners attention. “Clear the streets with a whiff of grape.”

  “Huh?” asked the driver inside the APC.

  “I said blow the shit out of them!” ordered Lieutenant Lopez. “And hit that red building too.”

  * * * * *

  The APC opened fire with machine gun and cannon. Sergeant Green heard the shooting from more than a block away and looked out over the barricade. The crowds hadn’t gathered on his boulevard. A civilian car was speeding toward his position. The driver was waving a green flag and screaming. What does that fool think he is doing, thought Sergeant Green. Fool!

  The car accelerated and slammed into the barricade. The spider hissed as he jumped out of the car. Sergeant Green shot the spider just as a nail-laden bomb in the car exploded. A gap was blown in the barricade and several legionnaires were killed or wounded. Sergeant Green was saved by his flack vest and helmet, but was still seriously injured. Blood was splattered everywhere.

  I’m a mess, thought Sergeant Green. He could see spiders dancing and celebrating off in the distance. Sergeant Green picked up the infantry phone located at the rear of the APC and yelled the order to the driver. “Kill them all! And hit those buildings behind the crowd too.”

  By now all the APC’s and legionnaires were firing at the crowds, and it was all broadcast live on Arthropoda Channel #6 World & Local News Tonight. Sergeant Green sighed and slumped back against the rear of the APC, tossing the phone aside. The war is over for me. “Medic!” he cried out.

  Corporal Ceausescu and Private Williams ran up to Sergeant Green and started first aid.

  “Golly, boy, you look like a hound dog that done met up with a porcupine,” exclaimed Private Williams as he injected Sergeant Green with morphine.

  “Words cannot express how much I hate you, Williams,” responded Sergeant Green.

  “This will hurt,” said Corporal Ceausescu as she used needle-nose pliers to pull nails from Sergeant Green’s vest and arm. “But you will be okay when the pain stops.”

  “I love you, Elena,” said Sergeant Green. “I always have, and always will love you, my beautiful angel.”

  “What?” asked Corporal Ceausescu incredulously as she slapped skin-graft antibiotic bandages on Sergeant Green. “You are always giving me a bad time. You are even worse than Lopez, and he called me a puta. And now you love me? Get real.”

  “I would never call you a puta. You are a beautiful angel. A saint. Pure as a virgin. I was just trying to get your attention, like a school kid,” cried Sergeant Green, struggling to get up. “I will kick Lopez’ ass right now to prove my love and devotion to you.”

  “Do you want me to give him another shot of morphine?” asked Private Williams, as he gently pushed Sergeant Green back down.

  “No, he’s had quite enough,” replied Corporal Ceausescu. She patted Sergeant Green, looking for hidden injuries. Giving Sergeant Green a little pinch down under, she said, “The good news, Green, is that your private parts weren’t blown off.”

  “Lot of good that will do me if I have no blood pressure,” complained Sergeant Green as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a fist of gold rings. Selecting a ring with a large blue stone, Sergeant Green gave it to Corporal Ceausescu. “This ring is but a small token of my love for you, Elena. Please take it, my love. I’m serious. You are my destiny. Marry me.”

  “Never take a wife until you have a house to put her in,” advised Private Williams.

  Corporal Ceausescu paused, admiring the sparkle of the stone. She slid it onto her wedding finger, and gave Sergeant a long passionate kiss. “I love you too, Tyrone. I have always loved you. Of course I will marry you.” Corporal Ceausescu then grabbed Sergeant Green by the back of his collar and dragged him over to the armored car. Sergeant Green was
then transported to the Imperial Palace with the other wounded to be evacuated later by shuttle to the T. Roosevelt.

  * * * * *

  Colonel McGee was yelling as he entered the Imperial Palace. He stepped over the wounded. “What the hell is going on here? We are supposed to be installing a new government, but General Kalipetsis tells me we are slaughtering the whole city! And guess what? It’s all being broadcast on spider TV.”

  “Sir, we are being attacked. And, I suggest you get out of the doorway,” I said as I tugged at Colonel McGee’s elbow. “We are still taking sniper fire.”

  “Let go of me,” snapped Colonel McGee as he pulled away. “General Kalipetsis saw the whole massacre on the spider news and he is not a happy camper. I really don’t need more grief from Kalipetsis.”

  “Sir, what we need is more firepower. We need air strikes on those buildings full of snipers. Massive air strikes,” I suggested.

  “Massive airstrikes? You don’t call in massive air strikes against civilians when you are in the middle of negotiations to form a new government,” said Colonel McGee.

  “You do if you want to live,” said Lieutenant Lopez as he helped carry in Sergeant Green, setting him in the corner away from the windows. A bullet ricocheted off the doorway.

  “Did I ask for your opinion?” replied Colonel McGee.

  “No sir, but there are millions of spiders in this city. And they are all pissed off at us. We should leave and nuke this place. Turn Spiderville into glass,” suggested Lieutenant Lopez.

  “Do we have any nukes?” I asked, suddenly optimistic. “That’s a great idea!”

  “There are a whole bunch of captured spider nukes stored in the palace basement,” answered Corporal Kool. “Want me to get a few?”

  “You are not using nukes for crowd control!” exploded Colonel McGee. “I’ll tell you what we are going to do. We are going to roust the Emperor and make him give a speech that will calm the spiders down.”

  Colonel McGee walked over the door to the Imperial private residence and knocked. No answer. He tried the door knob. Locked. Colonel McGee then kicked the door down and strode in. He found the Emperor still in bed. From the smell, he had been dead for a while.

  “Christ! Czerinski! Haven’t you been checking on this guy? What the hell have you been doing? I can’t leave you with one simple task?” screamed Colonel McGee.

  “This don’t look good,” said Lieutenant Lopez, peering at the Emperor and shaking his head. “Tisk tisk tisk, Captain Czerinski.”

  “Shut up, Lopez,” I replied. “It’s not my fault he vapor-locked.”

  “Maybe we could prop the Emperor up in a chair by the window and move his claw back and forth like he is waving at all the spiders down there,” suggested Lieutenant Lopez. “It might make them happy for a while.”

  “That might work,” said Colonel McGee, giving that matter some thought. “Do it!”

  “Yeah, do it!” I ordered Lieutenant Lopez as I left the private residence with Colonel McGee.

  “What more can go wrong?” commented Colonel McGee, shaking his head as he gazed out the doorway at the increasing smoke hanging over the city. Just then a 50-cal. sniper’s bullet struck Colonel McGee in the chest, splattering us all with blood and body parts.

  “Private Nesbit!” I called out. “Go downstairs. Find as many nukes as you can and bring them up here.”

  “What?” protested Private Nesbit. “You said I didn’t have to carry nukes anymore. Why are you always harassing me? You still haven’t got over Mars, have you?”

  “Get down there now!” I ordered.

  “I don’t even have any anti-rad pills left,” complained Private Nesbit.

  “Anti-rad pills don’t work anyway,” said Corporal Ceausescu. “You’re going to glow in the dark forever and your dick is going to fall off!”

  “Oh hell no,” said Sergeant Green, lifting his head up from his stretcher. “You aren’t serious about letting that idiot play with nukes again? Especially alien nukes? All by himself? He will blow us all up for sure.”

  “You might be right,” I said, giving the matter some thought. “Williams! Go with Nesbit. And make sure you don’t drop any nukes you bring back.”

  “Great,” said Sergeant Green in frustration. “You sent Dumb and Dumber to go play with nukes. You are Polish, aren’t you?”

  “Shut up, or I’ll cut off your morphine,” I said nastily as I got up and followed Nesbit and Williams downstairs. Sergeant Green was right. Some things, if you want them done right, you should do yourself.

  I expected to find a large vault and locked doors safeguarding the palace nukes. What I found was about twenty-five tactical nukes of all sizes in a corner stashed behind bomb shelter crackers and bottled water. Private Williams immediately started unscrewing the nose of one of the bombs. I hit Private Williams so hard, I knocked him into yesterday. Then I detailed a squad to help carry the nukes and Private Williams to the palace lobby. We scattered the nukes about to make a public display and to deter a spider attack. I had the largest nuke carried to the armored car. I ordered Lieutenant Lopez to set the timer for one week and to hide the nuke somewhere near the Intelligentsia & State Security Headquarters Building.

  * * * * *

  Lieutenant Lopez ordered the armored car driver to park by a dumpster next to a burned out grocery store. Then he set the timer on the nuke for seven days, and ordered the nuke dropped in the dumpster.

  “But Captain Czerinski said he wanted the nuke hidden at the Intelligentsia Headquarters Building,” argued Private Nesbit. “You want to disobey orders?”

  “That is not what Czerinski ordered,” responded Lieutenant Lopez. “Czerinski said hide the nuke as close as possible to the Headquarters Building. This dumpster is as close as is possible. The headquarters is surrounded by spider tanks and troops.”

  “The Captain might get upset,” said Private Williams, his jaw still sore from being hit earlier.

  “Captain Czerinski takes a grudge way too far,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I believe in payback as much as the next guy, but I am not getting killed by spider tanks and troops just because Czerinski wants some spider officer nuked. He can do it himself if he wants revenge that bad.”

  “That spider officer shot you. Remember? You swore you would kill him,” said Private Williams. “You swore you would exterminate them all.”

  “I got over it,” replied Lieutenant Lopez.

  Private Williams shrugged and opened the top of the dumpster. A spider jumped out hissing, “Why are you disturbing me?”

  “What are you doing in the dumpster?” asked Lieutenant Lopez.

  “I live here,” replied the spider bum. “I have lived here for years. Do you have any spare change?”

  “Put the nuke in the dumpster,” Lieutenant Lopez ordered, gesturing to Williams and Nesbit.

  “Did you say nuke?” asked the spider bum. “You can’t nuke my home. I have rights. Who do you humans think you are? There are laws. You will be in big trouble with the Habitat Protection Agency.”

  “He is right,” agreed Private Williams. “We can’t just set off a nuke in the first dumpster we happen to come across.”

  “Shut up you fools,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Load the nuke back into the armored car.”

  They drove away, looking for a better place to hide the nuke. There was plenty of debris in the streets, but Lieutenant Lopez wanted to place the nuke somewhere special. Passing by some small shops, Lieutenant Lopez ordered the armored car to an abrupt halt. Green spiders ran out to greet them. It was the same merchant spiders Sergeant Green had sold rifles and ammunition to.

  “Do you have more weapons to sell us?” asked the leader of the merchants. “We need more ammo. We are almost out. There was much fighting.”

  “Would you like to buy a nuke?” asked Lieutenant Lopez. “I have an extra nuke in the car.”

  “What would I do with a nuke?” asked the merchant spider. “A nuke would be a burden on my family. Where w
ould I put it? Under my bed? My wife would complain. You should pay me to take it off your hands.”

  “Never mind,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “We will sell you more rifles, ammo, and clips. Then, I wash my hands of you.”

  “Not so fast. If I wanted to buy your nuke, even though it is almost worthless, how much would you want for it?” asked the merchant spider.

  “What would you do with a nuke?” asked Lieutenant Lopez. “Sell it?”

  “There are many of us green spiders who want our own country. Some even dream of having our own planet,” explained the merchant spider. “Perhaps owning a nuke would enhance our bargaining position.”

  ‘The price is two million credits,” said Lieutenant Lopez.

  “I thought you said our credits are worthless to you humans,” said the merchant spider. “Do you think I have two million credits just lying around? Money does not just grow on trees.”

  “That’s the price,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “It’s not negotiable.”

  “How about one half million credits?” offered the merchant spider.

  “It is worth a lot more, but I’ll sell it to you for one million credits,” offered Lieutenant Lopez. “I have other buyers. I’m giving you first chance because we have done prior business. We are friends.”

  “Yadda, yadda, yadda. I should have lots of friends like you,” complained the merchant spider. “I will allow you to cheat me out of one million credits for this worthless nuke. No more.”

  “I am not sure my translation device is working properly,” said Lieutenant Lopez, frowning. “Do we have a deal at one million credits?”

  “Will you take a check?” asked the merchant spider, pulling out his checkbook and pen.