“Not tonight,” replied Major Lopez. “I’m still catching up on my paperwork. I guess this means you fell off the wagon again. Maybe you should contact AA.”
“The car people?”
“That’s AAA. I’m talking about Alcoholics Anonymous.”
“Whatever.”
* * * * *
At the Blind Tiger Tavern, I stood at the bar. “The usual?” asked the bartender.
“Bring me a bottle of beer with the cap still on it,” I requested. I took my beer to a corner table and sat with my back to the wall. I popped the top and drank heartily from the bottle.
“Excuse me,” said a pretty young woman standing next to me. “You are sitting in my chair!”
“It’s a big place,” I replied. “You are mistaken.”
“I am not,” insisted the young woman. “See! My sweater is on the back of the chair.”
I looked behind me. So it was. I handed her sweater back. “Care to join me?”
“I usually don’t drink with legionnaires, but you being an officer an all, perhaps you are a gentleman too,” she answered, smiling. “This place filled up fast, so I guess we don’t have much choice where to sit. My name is Lydia. Yours?”
“Joey Czerinski,” I said.
“I have heard of you,” said Lydia. “Are you a hero of the Legion?”
“I’ve been on the news lately,” I said. “I’m the local Legion commander for New Gobi City.”
“Aren’t you also the Butcher of New Colorado?” asked Lydia.
“I’m that too,” I added. “But my butchering days are mostly over. I just shuffle a lot of paperwork now.”
“I don’t know why, but I feel so safe being with you,” gushed Lydia, placing her hand on my arm. “Are you carrying any guns?”
“Several,” I replied. “So, what was so special about this table? You seemed really upset earlier.”
“I need my back to the wall so no one can sneak up on me,” admitted Lydia. “Also, I have a clear view of the entrance doors from here, so I can spot my stalkers before they see me. Do I sound paranoid?”
“Just a little,” I said. “Do you have many enemies?”
“I’ve had so many stalkers, I’ve lost track of how many,” complained Lydia. “How come you men can’t leave a pretty woman alone? Sometimes I wish I was ugly.”
“We can’t help ourselves,” I said. “Men are like moths to fire. The hotter, the more attracted we are.”
“May I see your identification?” asked Lydia. “A girl can’t be too careful these days. Anyone can buy those silly Legion uniforms anywhere.”
I showed Lydia my ID as the waitress brought us drinks. I opened my beer with my own bottle opener.
Lydia motioned to my capped beer. “Are you afraid of being poisoned?” she asked. “Can it be I just met someone more paranoid than me? We could be soul mates.”
“I’ve been called paranoid before,” I confessed. “But even paranoid people have enemies. And, I’m still alive. May I see the contents of your purse?”
“What?” asked Lydia. “No way. A girl needs some privacy. You legionnaires are always searching everyone.”
I grabbed Lydia’s purse and dumped the contents out on the table. There was nothing much that stood out: Lipstick, nail file, change holder, wallet, cigarettes, three condoms, a switchblade knife, and a hospital employee ID card on a clip.
“You are a nurse?” I asked, examining the ID.
“Yes,” said Lydia, uncomfortably. She snatched back the ID. “I am a contract nurse at New Gobi Hospital. I work all over the DMZ, and will only be here for a month or so.”
“I love nurses,” I said.
“So, you stalk nurses?” said Lydia. “Or is that just wishful thinking? Let’s see what is in your pockets.”
I produced two pistols, a jagged combat knife, a wallet, condoms, an anti-viral spider patch, blue pills, and a grenade. I kept the third pistol strapped to my ankle a secret.
“I don’t see anything to indicate you are a serial killer,” commented Lydia. “Just guy stuff. What is the patch for?”
“It’s for spiders,” I said, picking it up, along with the condoms, and placing it all in my medical pouch. “I believe in being safe.”
“My kind of guy,” said Lydia. “But spiders? Is that even possible?”
“It’s been a long time since I made love to a human,” I said, leaning over and giving Lydia a long and passionate kiss. “Your place or mine?”
“That’s not the smoothest line I’ve ever heard,” commented Lydia. “But I have a weakness for charity cases. My place.”
“I live in an underground bunker under Legion Headquarters,” I said. “It’s the safest most secure place in all of New Gobi City.”
“I’m sure it is,” said Lydia. “But I can’t orgasm unless I’m in the security and comfort of my own bed. Sorry, it’s just one of my few quirks.”
“Okay, your place is fine,” I relented, as we got up and hurried for the door.
I drove to her apartment in my Legion armored car. Lydia was impressed by the bomb-proof seats and the stereo. Her apartment was a small, sparsely furnished studio. The bed pulled down from a closet. I quickly checked the bathroom. It was empty.
“Are you searching for villains?” asked Lydia. “If you find any stalkers, you have my permission to shoot them.”
“Bang-bang,” I said, taking Lydia in my arms and kissing her. “The shower is clear of bogeymen.”
“I’m so glad,” she replied, as we fell onto the bed. “Fellow paranoid lovers. How romantic.”
I put my guns, knife, and grenade under the bed. I popped a pill, and we made love. Later, we fell asleep in each other’s arms and tangled sheets. In the early morning, I woke from a slight noise. I rolled out of bed and slid underneath, pulling my clothes with me.
* * * * *
Al Turner, using his girlfriend’s key, opened the front door and crept silently inside. Pointing his assault rifle, he slowly approached the bed. He only saw Lydia. Turner nudged her awake with the barrel of his rifle and asked, “Where is the Legion commander?”
“He left?” Lydia looked about, puzzled.
“That is impossible,” snapped Turner. “I have been watching the front door all night. There is no other way out.”
They both turned toward the closed bathroom door. Turner quickly strode up to the door and fired a full magazine into the bathroom.
* * * * *
As my would-be assassin loaded another clip, I pushed the bed back up into the closet, with Lydia still in it. I shot Turner in the head. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. I then tossed my grenade into the closet and left. The explosion woke the neighbors, but I pushed pass them in the confusion. A Toyota pickup truck sped away from the parking lot, burning rubber. I thought I recognized Danny Grant, but I wasn’t sure. I fired a couple shots, but missed. “I’ll get you next time!” I swore.
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Chapter 8
Cable Eye, an esteemed spider TV reporter for Arthropodan Cable News, a member of RWB (Reporters Without Borders), and an occasional spy for the Arthropodan Intelligentsia State Security Police, crossed the border at the New Gobi City Legion checkpoint. He secretly photographed Guido as he searched the rental car. Once across, Cable Eye stopped at the Sheriff’s Office, but no one would grant an interview.
Cable Eye stopped in front of Legion Headquarters and took a video for network files. He then went inside, asking for Major Lopez, as the spider commander had suggested. Cable Eye was quickly directed to Major Lopez’s office.
“My name is Cable Eye. I am an investigative reporter for cable TV,” he announced. “I am here looking into reports that Colonel Czerinski murdered his estranged girlfriend, Lydia Thomas, and her live-in lover, Al Turner, in a jealous rage at their apartment right here in New Gobi City.”
“You work for cable TV?” asked Major Lopez. “You are under arrest for subversive activities. Friends don’t let friends watch cable.�
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“What?” asked Cable Eye. “That is ridiculous. Have you not heard of freedom of the press?”
“What?” asked Major Lopez. “Cable TV is outlawed on New Colorado. Only satellite TV is authorized. It’s the only way to guarantee fair and balanced programming. We will not allow the cabled tentacles of the Arthropodan Empire to creep across the border and into our living rooms.”
“What about the accusations against Colonel Czerinski?” asked Cable Eye.
“Turner is a known terrorist and member of the Danny Grant gang,” replied Major Lopez. “His associates, including Ms. Thomas, are being investigated. Turner was killed during a terrorist attack. Ms. Thomas is recovering from minor injuries incurred during that same attack, and charges are pending against her.”
Major Lopez nodded to legionnaires summoned to his office. Corporal Valdez and Private Wayne escorted Cable Eye to a jail cell. Cable Eye became very hostile, and resisted. “I am a personal friend of Phil Coen!” shouted Cable Eye. “You do not know who you are messing with. Wait until Reporters Without Borders hears about this outrage! You all will be busted down to private.”
“I have already been busted down to private,” advised Private Wayne, as he slapped Cable Eye alongside his head. “Keep moving and shut up!”
“How does it feel to be a lackey of the human pestilence?” asked Cable Eye, as the big spider legionnaire shoved him through a cell doorway.
There was a time when Private Wayne would have pulled his combat knife and cut the little mealy-mouthed reporter. But Private Wayne had mellowed with time. He merely reached out and broke off an antenna. Cable Eye shrieked with pain.
“Don’t worry,” said Private Wayne. “It will probably grow back in time. It might even grow straight.”
“You bastard!”
The entire incident was immediately broadcast on Cable TV News and on the database via Cable Eye’s secret video cameras. General Daly soon called me on the phone. “Czerinski! Are you torturing prisoners again?” he shouted.
“I have never tortured anyone,” I protested. “What are you talking about?”
“I am watching your legionnaires on TV as they thump some poor spider reporter,” said General Daly. “Hell, man, they just broke off the spider’s damn antenna. What kind of shit is that?”
I turned on the TV, and General Daly sent me the video. Sure enough. Private Wayne tore off the antenna, and folded it about five times before tossing it back at Cable Eye. Each snap of the antenna was riveting. Great for ratings, I suppose. I ordered Major Lopez to strip-search Cable Eye and confiscate all electronic devices. Then I got back to General Daly.
“It looks to me like one spider broke the antenna off of another spider,” I explained. “No big deal. It’s just a cultural thing between spiders that they like do when they’re pissed, kind of like slapping someone with a glove when you challenge them to a duel. We humans don’t quite have a grasp on the significance of it yet, but I’m trying to be sensitive to cultural differences. I’ll look in to it, sir. I’m told those antennae grow back, you know.”
“I don’t care if they grow back or not!” yelled General Daly. “That’s bullshit! It’s bad press to be arresting and abusing reporters on TV. What is Cable Eye charged with?”
“Spying for the Empire and Cable TV,” I answered. “A firing squad shoots him at dawn.”
“Release him at once!”
* * * * *
Major Lopez duct-taped Cable Eye’s antenna back, apologized for any inconvenience, and escorted him to the border crossing with a squad of legionnaires. The antenna sagged to one side, but held firm. “I think your crooked antenna looks kind of dapper, cocked to one side like that,” commented Major Lopez. “In a nerd sort of way. Don’t worry, the females will think it’s cute and take pity on you. Play it for all it’s worth.”
“Don’t come back,” warned Guido, as he shoved Cable Eye across the MDL.
“Fascist!” responded Cable Eye, as his antenna fell off again. “I have a right to follow the news wherever it takes me!”
The spider commander met Cable Eye at the Arthropodan guard shack, giving him a hearty hug and a claw shake. “It is about time someone did a critical news piece on Czerinski. Your story clearly showed humanity’s brutality. Don’t worry. Your antenna will grow back.”
“Someone should snipe that Colonel Czerinski,” commented Cable Eye. “Major Lopez, too.”
“I agree,” said the spider commander, glancing up at the Marriott Hotel down the street. “I am working on it.”
Guido and Major Lopez looked up at the Marriott too. “Did you hear that?” asked Guido. “We need to check out the rooftop of the Marriott.”
“Keep moving,” said Major Lopez. “There are probably snipers up there right now. I’ll see what I can do about erecting barriers to give you cover from those buildings. That’s about all we can do for now.”
The spider commander followed Major Lopez and Guido back to their shack. “Cable Eye’s mistreatment in your custody will not be tolerated,” said the spider commander. “I will seek indictments against Czerinski.”
“Cable Eye will be okay when the pain stops,” insisted Major Lopez. “You said yourself the antenna will grow back. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is Czerinski’s constant provocations,” replied the spider commander. Then he leaned forward and whispered in Guido’s ear. “Put me down for ten thousand more credits on the Seahawks to cover the spread against Miami in tonight’s game. You know I’m good for it.”
“You’re covered,” replied Guido, making the entry in his notepad.
back to top
Chapter 9
Guido set up the usual closed-circuit big-screen TV for his customers at the border checkpoint. The Super Bowl was blacked out on the spider side because of fears about cultural contamination by humanity. However, enforcement of the satellite dish ban by Arthropodan authorities had been lax lately, so Guido was doing a brisk business selling satellite micro dishes at his guard shack. Arthropodan marines who did not want to risk getting caught with a satellite dish crowded in at the checkpoint. Guido even set up a beer garden and provided cheap beer.
I decided to watch the game in the comfort of the Blind Tiger Tavern. Being the local Legion commander, I, of course, had the night off. Some, like Guido, were not so lucky. Guido complained to me earlier about the possibility of snipers on top of the Marriott. Major Lopez expressed concern, too. I had a satellite take a look. Sure enough, a spider sniper team was perched at the corner on the roof. That would be addressed tonight. Also, I ordered a covering barrier constructed for Guido.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Washington and Private Wayne crossed the MDL (Military Demarcation Line) through a newly dug Legion tunnel. Wearing smart spider business suits, they checked into the Arthropodan Marriott Hotel, asking for a suite on the top floor, where they changed clothes. Private Wayne cut out a glass plate window and climbed up the side of the Marriott. Lieutenant Washington followed. Now dressed in Arthropodan marine uniforms, the two Legion spiders strode up to the snipers unnoticed, until getting about ten feet away.
Startled, the sniper team leader jumped up and confronted Wayne and Washington. “What are you two doing up here? This security breach will be reported immediately.”
“Yes it will,” responded Lieutenant Washington. He wore commander’s insignia on his collar. “You were sleeping on duty! How else was I able to walk right up to you unnoticed? I should shoot you now!”
“Sir, I can explain,” pleaded the team leader. “We were focused on construction activity down at the checkpoint. The human pestilence are trying to block our view.”
“You have been smoking on duty, too!” accused Lieutenant Washington, inspecting a butt still smoldering on the ledge. “This had better not be marijuana!”
“Sir, it gets so boring up here,” explained the team leader. “We needed some diversion.”
Lieutenant Washington looked throug
h their spotter scope to the checkpoint below. It was still focused on Guido’s big screen TV.
“I see Miami just scored another touchdown,” commented Lieutenant Washington. “I hope you weren’t one of the poor suckers that took Seattle to beat the spread.”
“Oh, no,” complained the team leader. “Are you sure they scored?”
“See for yourself,” said Lieutenant Washington, motioning to the spotter scope.
When the team leader put an eye to the scope, Private Wayne slit his throat. Lieutenant Washington shot the other sniper in the head. They stuffed the bodies in duffle bags and carried them out the front door of the Marriott. The bags were dropped in front of the offices of Arthropodan Cable TV. A note addressed to Cable Eye warned, ‘It is unhealthy to talk about sniping Legionnaires.’
* * * * *
The Seattle Seahawks were favored by eight points. I bet on Miami because most playoff games are closer than that. With two minutes left in the game, Seattle was ahead 38-28. Seattle had the ball and seemed content to just run out the clock. Being that Seattle had more than covered the spread, my cause seemed hopeless. I sank into depression.
Then, on a running play up the middle, Seattle fumbled the ball, and Miami recovered. On the next play, the Dolphin quarterback threw a Hail Mary pass for a touchdown, bringing the score to 38-35 Seattle. After a failed onside kick, the game ended. I won! Seattle did not cover the spread. A lot of spiders lost money. Too bad. Like I always say, ‘What do spiders know about football?’ Guido got richer, and so did I.
Enemies Page 4
