“The Fleet Commander says that investigators have cleared the Legion of any wrongdoing in the case. The Commander says he is relieved that a dark cloud of suspicion no longer hangs over negotiations.
“Asked if it was more Green terrorists, the Fleet Commander said that possibility is being investigated, but he doubts it. He said possible links to organized crime have been found. That statement in and of itself is newsworthy because Arthropodan authorities have never acknowledged that they might have an organized crime problem. For years there has been speculation that organized crime on Arthropoda and Earth are linked. Asked to comment on that speculation, General Kalipetsis said that the Mafia never made it past Mars, and that they were all thrown out an airlock.”
* * * * *
I rode at the head of a tank column past the disputed oil fields. The Fleet Commander had said the boundary markers in the area were wrong, and that he blamed the Legion for the deaths of a missing survey team. He threatened to take the area by force. We met a column of Arthropodan tanks on a winding dirt road just west of the oil fields. That was a surprise because the spiders were forbidden by treaty from landing heavy armor on New Colorado. My tank and the lead spider tank stopped about one inch apart, facing each other.
“It is a violation of our treaty and the spirit of ongoing negotiations for the Arthropodan military to have tanks and armored cars on New Colorado,” I said, using my loud speaker. “You will surrender your armor immediately.”
“I will not,” replied the spider tank commander, as he popped up out of his turret. “The treaty says the Arthropodan military will not import armored vehicles or tanks to New Colorado. We may have brought down some spare parts, but these tanks were manufactured right here on New Colorado by the locals. Technically, there is no violation of the treaty!”
“If you expect me to believe that, I suppose you’re going to tell me you have some beach-front property in Arizona to sell me, too?” I asked.
“I have never been to the beach,” replied the spider tank commander. “Our land is not, nor will it ever be, for sale.”
My tank driver, Corporal Williams, looked out past the front of his tank. Only about an inch separated the two tanks. He was upset.
“If you had so much as scratched a small chip of paint off my tank, I would have beaten you within an inch of your life, boy!” he shouted, staring at his opposite in the spider tank.
The spider tank then lurched forward, jostling and climbing up on the Legion tank front before bouncing back into place. Hot coffee from Corporal Williams’ cup spilt all over his vest. Williams got out of the tank and inspected the large scratch mark left across the white American star painted on the front. He was furious. “You will pay for that,” said Corporal Williams. “If it is the last thing I do, I will hunt you down!” In frustration, Williams smashed his coffee cup on the turret of the spider tank. A black stain dribbled down the side.
“You human pestilence need to be taught humility,” said the spider tank driver, climbing out of the tank.
“It won’t be by you,” sneered Corporal Williams. “I have eaten your kind.”
“The sooner you human pestilence are exterminated, the better!” replied the spider tank driver. He urinated over the side of his tank onto the Legion tank.
“You bugs have no redeeming qualities,” commented Corporal Williams, shaking his head. He looked up at me for permission to kill the spider driver. I shook my head, indicating ‘no’ clearly. Corporal Williams then took off his helmet and smashed it against a searchlight mounted on the spider tank turret. Glass shattered everywhere.
The spider tank commander jumped down from his turret and shoved Corporal Williams off the tank. The tank commander then gazed at my tank, looking for something to break. The American flag fluttered in the breeze. With sudden inspiration, the tank commander leapt to the Legion tank and reached for the flag. I drew my pistol and cocked back the hammer as I aimed it at the spider. “That is not going to happen!” I said.
By now, other legionnaires and Arthropodan marines were standing by the tank. They all aimed their weapons, too. Sergeant Green pulled his armored car alongside my tank and aimed the mounted machine gun. Tank turrets adjusted their cannon and missile launch elevations to point-blank target range. The spider tank commander took it all in, then jumped back to his own tank.
“For now, this is the new border,” the spider tank commander announced. Spider marines immediately went to work. They posted new border markers, deployed their tanks in a wide defensive position, put up tents and prefab buildings, and strung fence wire. We made camp, too.
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Chapter 6
Late at night, Corporal George Rambo Washington and Private John Iwo Jima Wayne dressed in Arthropodan marine uniforms and slipped into the spiders’ camp. Wayne wore officer’s insignia. Both legionnaires being spiders, they did not draw much attention. Washington and Wayne carried explosives in their backpacks. As they went from tank to tank, they attached timed charges on the engine and turret of each spider tank. At the last tank, they were finally challenged.
“Halt! What are you doing?” asked a team leader, looking down from his turret. “What is a Green doing in my tank’s engine?”
“You will salute and address me as sir,” ordered Private Wayne. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said the team leader. “What are you two doing in the dark by my tank? Sir!”
“I am supervising my mechanic as he checks the fluid levels in all your engines,” explained Private Wayne. “This Green is one of our top mechanics.”
“Sir, usually we take care of our own maintenance,” said the team leader. “It is not necessary for you to be snooping through my engine.”
“I will decide if it is necessary!” said Private Wayne. “Usually you tankers are so drunk with vodka that you do not check anything. That is why we are here. And when I want your opinion, I will ask for it!”
“Yes, sir,” said the team leader.
“Your tank seems to check out fine,” said Private Wayne. “I commend you for that.”
“Thank you, sir!” said the team leader. “Thank you very much.”
“Carry on,” said Private Wayne, as they walked away.
“You sounded just like a damn officer,” said Corporal Washington. “I was even scared of you.”
“I had higher rank a long time ago,” said Private Wayne. “I had forgotten what it was like to yell at someone like that. It felt good. I am feeling all sentimental.”
* * * * *
At dawn, the spider tanks blew apart. Engines exploded first. Then turrets were tossed into the air. Legion tanks rolled across the fence line and slaughtered the Arthropodan infantry. After a few minutes, it was over. A few spiders survived by running to the forest, but not many. I radioed our success to Headquarters. General Kalipetsis replied, “An Arthropodan space weapons platform just changed its orbit and will be over your location in about fifteen minutes, Take appropriate evasive action.”
“Can’t you do anything about that?” I asked. “This sucks.”
“We are trying,” said General Kalipetsis. “We were caught off guard. I did not think the spiders would use a strategic weapon against ground targets. Sorry about that.”
“Why not? We do it all the time,” I said. I then switched to company frequency to talk to my men. “There is a ridge two miles south of here. You have fourteen minutes to run there for cover or you will die. Abandon your tanks and heavy equipment and run like hell. The armored car will be leaving in three minutes. If you are injured or too fat to run, hitch a ride. Move!”
As we approached the ridge, the whole campsite behind us exploded as the Arthropodan space weapons platform bombed our abandoned tanks. As the space platform scanned for more legionnaires, the United States Galactic Federation Stealth Starship Shenandoah targeted the space platform with nuclear tipped missiles. The destruction was complete. An escort starship missile cruiser was targe
ted and destroyed, too.
* * * * *
The peace negotiators skipped breakfast and were sitting across the table from each other in emergency session even before the sun was up past the trees.
“Your provocations never cease,” fumed the Fleet Commander. “You expect there will be no response to your surprise attack?”
“Next time I tell you to stay out of a disputed area, do not just blow me off,” said General Kalipetsis. “And do not be so blithe about smuggling in tanks and armor in violation of the treaty.”
“Your vicious and unprovoked coordinated attacks on the ground and from space constitute a war crime,” said the Fleet Commander. “If war starts, you will be held responsible.”
“You were the first to use strategic weapons,” said General Kalipetsis. “All I did was react appropriately.”
“Act appropriately?” said the Fleet Commander. “This I am hearing from a general whose Legion has even nuked your own city.”
“I did not nuke Finisterra,” said General Kalipetsis. “Your space weapons platform bombed ground targets in direct violation of the treaty. It deserved to be blown out of orbit.”
“So you admit to having a stealth starship that has been attacking our shipping all along?” asked the Fleet Commander.
“I admit nothing of the kind,” said General Kalipetsis. “We may have one or we may have many stealth starships. Our fleet is prepared and eager to meet your aggression head on.”
“I am reasonable even if you are not,” said the Fleet Commander. “I will pull back my fleet if you do the same.”
“Agreed,” said General Kalipetsis. “The fleets can withdraw to different hemispheres.”
“I will make it so,” advised the Fleet Commander, giving orders to an aide. “My fleet will stay in the Northern Hemisphere, while yours will stay in the South.”
“Agreed,” said General Kalipetsis. “For now.”
General Kalipetsis immediately gave orders for the Legion Fleet to change orbit. There was a large window behind the conference table. General Kalipetsis watched spots in the sky with fascination. It was like the sky had the pox. How odd, he thought, walking over to the window to get a better look. Now the General could see thousands of spider paratroopers dropping onto Camp Alaska. He turned on the Fleet Commander. “What is this?” he shouted.
“You started a provocation even I cannot stop,” said the Fleet Commander. “The Emperor himself ordered that I take Camp Alaska to create a buffer between the Legion and our oil fields. The Legion is ordered to withdraw to Finisterra and to the New Mississippi River or face annihilation.”
“This is an outrage!” said General Kalipetsis. “You can’t do this.”
“I already have,” said the Fleet Commander. “You are badly outnumbered. The outcome of this little skirmish has already been decided. You lost. Do not worry. All peace negotiators will be allowed to leave on the Legion shuttle parked at the airstrip. We will arrange a prisoner exchange later.”
* * * * *
“Hey Guido!” called out a spider guard from the checkpoint across the fence from the Legion guard shack. “I am going to do you a favor!”
“Oh?” asked Guido. “Excuse me if I put my hand on my wallet while you are doing me this favor.”
“I am serious,” said the spider guard. “You do not have much time. Look up in the sky.”
Guido first looked both ways down the streets. Then he looked to the sky. “What the hell is that? If it’s a training exercise they are going to drift to the wrong side.”
“It’s an invasion, Guido.” warned the spider guard. “You need to get out of town fast, or you will be killed or taken prisoner. Because you have taken the money of so many of our marines, I suggest you not be taken prisoner.”
Corporal Tonelli gave that some thought. He dropped everything, and ran like the wind for the airstrip. He had seen the general’s shuttle land earlier, and hoped to catch the last flight out. Guido just made it, throwing himself into a seat right next to General Kalipetsis.
“You sure screwed things up good this time, huh General?” commented Guido casually, as he lit a cigarette. “Yep, you really screwed the pooch big time.”
“When you do right nobody remembers,” replied General Kalipetsis. “When you do wrong, nobody forgets.”
* * * * *
I ordered the armored car destroyed. Then I led one hundred legionnaires south through the forest toward Finisterra. We got about forty-five miles away before we stopped for a rest. It was well into the night. Spider helicopters could be heard looking for us, flying a grid pattern. As long as we stayed under the cover of trees, we would be safe. It started raining, as it does every day in the North. That negated some of the spider technology being used to locate us from the air and space. The spiders would have to put troops on the ground and find us the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, they had plenty of troops, and they knew which direction we were hiking. About a thousand spider marines waited for us between here and Finisterra.
* * * * *
Wolves hunted in packs. When a scout found prey, he howled, signaling the pack to join him.
A herd of spiders, a thousand strong, was attempting to move at night through forest marshland. The spiders were strung out over a long distance, winding through the stumps and trees. It was stupid to attempt such a move at night. But herd animals never were too bright. The darkness would conceal the attack of the wolf packs.
The pack leader answered the call of the scouts. The smell of humans was on the wind, too. Humans gave off a foul, dirty smell. They were camped to the north. Both spiders and humans were dangerous, but there was something about humans that made the pack leader nervous. He hated humans and had no problem killing them. But he also had an instinctual fear of mankind, ingrained by millennia of evolution. Caution was needed in dealing with either humans or spiders. The packs would probe the spider herd at its thinnest flanks.
The wolf pack leader was driven by hatred of spiders. It was a hatred recently learned. Spiders shot and killed wolves on sight. Even females and cubs had been lost. An instinctual need for revenge was something new in the DNA of New Colorado wolves. Perhaps human geneticists were responsible when the planet was seeded with wolves. Perhaps evolution took place naturally. It did not matter. The trait was there, and the wolves’ fury had been building.
* * * * *
“Why are we moving at night?” asked the spider marine team leader. “We should have camped before nightfall.”
“We will camp soon,” replied the spider marine commander. “I did not want to camp at our last stop because there were too many wolves in the area. Their howling is unnerving.”
“It is too wet to camp here,” argued the team leader. The mud was up to his knees. “We can not camp in this muck.”
“Then the human pestilence cannot camp here either,” said the commander. “We will have them trapped, too.”
“Don’t be so sure,” said the team leader. “I think humans like mud. Have you noticed their flat feet? They evolved with those flat feet so that they won’t sink on muddy ground.”
“You might have something there,” said the commander. “Their constant need to consume water is probably because they evolved from slime that crawled out of the river. Their flat feet helped them live in the swamp.”
“We can not attack if we are strung out like this,” said the team leader. “You said we kept moving to get away from the wolves, but they seem to be closer than ever.”
The marine commander gave that some thought, deciding the team leader was right. The wolves are following us, and on both sides! Maybe they are just curious. “Perhaps they hope to scavenge our discards.”
“If we are attacked, how will we defend ourselves?” asked the team leader.
“We outnumber the human pestilence ten to one,” answered the commander. “Don’t be silly. The Legion cannot attack under these conditions. If anything, the forest affects the human pestilence even more than it
does us.”
“I am not talking about the human pestilence,” said the team leader. “I am worried about the wolf packs.”
“You fear attacks by dumb animals?” asked the commander. He had not even considered that possibility. Now that he mulled over their situation in a new light, however, their position seemed untenable. “Do not be ridiculous.”
“There have been rumors,” said the team leader. “Attacks have been documented.”
“Isolated incidents are not to be feared,” said the commander. “It is but the whisperings of females and the timid. We are a modern army and a force to be feared. We have automatic weapons, grenades, night vision technology, and air support. Let the wolves and human pestilence fear us.”
“I am wet, cold, rained on, and stuck in the mud. I do not feel all that intimidating,” complained the team leader. “We need to find dry high ground and set up camp soon.”
They heard loud screams and hisses from the rear of the long column, followed by wolf growls and automatic gunfire. Then silence. More shrieks of terror could be heard, this time up ahead, followed by a chorus of thousands of wolf howls all around their position. Spider marines opened up in both directions with automatic rifle and machine gun fire. Every shadow and imagined movement drew rifle fire. Then there was silence as marines reloaded.
There were more screams in the darkness as spider marines got picked off by small packs of wolves. The marines began to group up. It did not help. The grouping increased isolation and disunity, and the marines were rushed one group at a time. There was no command and control between the small squads of spiders. Grasping that, the commander got on the radio and ordered the battalion to form a united perimeter, and to set up the machine guns for intersecting fields of cover fire. The sounds of violent death in the darkness only intensified.
America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 3: Silent Invasion Page 6
