Enemies Page 11

  I cared because Grant still held a grudge against me for shooting and burying him. I fully expected Grant to come looking for payback soon. General Daly did agree to add a condition to Grant’s pardon. Grant was now prohibited form visiting New Gobi City. Big deal.

  * * * * *

  The Angry Onion robbery shooting drove Grant over the edge. He now was quite mad. Grant packed a sniper’s rifle, grenades, pistols, bulletproof vest, and ammo for the trip to New Gobi City. He rented a room at the newly opened Arthropodan Marriott Hotel Casino & Resort and waited for an opportunity. “Czerinski’s days are numbered,” he swore.

  * * * * *

  Managing a large hotel casino is not an easy job, especially in spider country. The best way to do it is to bring in experts, and to delegate as much responsibility as possible. I brought in Amanda, a Green spider and former hotel casino partner from before the war. Now that I owned the Marriott, I needed an experienced manager like Amanda to keep all the other spiders from robbing me blind.

  “Sweetie, it is so good to be working with you again,” gushed Amanda. “What do you want me to do about that slippery marine commander? He cheats at cards every chance he gets.”

  “Let him win a little,” I said. “For now, basically ignore him. I’ll cook his goose later.”

  “You’re still looking good,” said Amanda. “It’s like you don’t age. Do you have a girlfriend these days?” Amanda patted me on the rear with her claw, then gave me a pinch.

  “Forget it!” I said. “It would be inappropriate in today’s modern workplace environment for me to have intimate relations with a subordinate employee. This hotel casino adheres to strict sexual harassment guidelines, and I intend to set a good example for my staff.”

  “I promise not to complain,” said Amanda, still caressing me with three hands and a claw.

  “No!” I said, swatting her away. “Just concentrate on business.”

  “That marine commander is kind of cute for a card cheat,” commented Amanda. “Is he married?”

  “That’s a good idea!” I said. “You should hook up with the spider commander. Did you know he is the supreme commander for the entire New Gobi Desert military district?”

  “I love powerful males,” said Amanda, seeing the spider commander in a totally new light. “He just needs some love management.”

  * * * * *

  Amanda sat next to the spider commander at the poker table. She patted him on the knee. “You cheat,” she said.

  “Who are you?” asked the spider commander. “Casino security? What do I care?”

  “I am your next girlfriend,” said Amanda. “Maybe I’m even your next ex-wife.”

  “I try to avoid pushy females,” said the spider commander. “And I certainly do not fraternize with Greens.”

  “So that’s how it is?” asked Amanda. “You are jealous of and feel threatened by us Greens?”

  “I just do not want the hassle of social stigma,” said the spider commander. “It hurts promotion opportunities. I have my career to think about. Some of the fiercest Special Forces commandos I have ever known have been Greens. I have nothing personal against Greens.”

  “I manage this casino for Czerinski,” said Amanda. “I do not appreciate you cheating at cards.”

  “Perhaps it is time for me to review Czerinski’s business license,” commented the spider commander. “But I am impressed. You are both beautiful and smart. Managing a hotel casino this large is quite an accomplishment, especially for a female.”

  “I impress you?” asked Amanda. “And you find me beautiful? Does that mean this poor Green female in heat has a chance with you after all?”

  “Back off!” ordered the spider commander. “I am not interested.”

  “Sure you are,” replied Amanda. “You males can’t help yourselves. You are hard-wired to always be interested. But there is another matter I want to discuss with you first.”

  “Oh?” asked the spider commander. “More card cheating accusations from the blackjack table, too?”

  “I will talk to you about that later,” said Amanda. “I heard a rumor you are waiting on one last tip from Texas Red, but you have credit problems. Since Czerinski won’t share that tip with me, I am willing to bankroll your next bet if you agree to share the information.”

  The spider commander folded his poker hand, tossing in the cards. “How much of a bankroll are we talking about?”

  “A lot more than your last two bets combined,” promised Amanda, her claw now all over the spider commander.

  “You have a deal,” agreed the spider commander.

  “Shall we seal the deal upstairs?” asked Amanda. “The penthouse suite is all mine.”

  “I told you no,” said the spider commander. “A simple claw shake will do.”

  “You say no, but you mean yes,” said Amanda, grabbing the spider commander and pulling him off his seat towards the elevator.

  The spider commander pulled out his jagged combat knife, but Amanda anticipated his move and knocked it to the floor. Casino security guards pounced on the spider commander, taking his pistol and placing him in handcuffs and restraints. Amanda picked the spider commander up and carried him over her shoulder to the elevator.

  “I’m going to get lucky tonight!” she sang, waving to the crowd.

  The room full of poker players, mostly spider marines, cheered for their commander. They had been observing the traditional courtship ritual between the two, and heartily approved of their commander’s new girlfriend. She was obviously a much-desired, well-principled, old-fashioned, and wholesome female, even if she was Green. Tradition still mattered to most spider marines.

  “Someone help me!” pleaded the spider commander, as the elevator door closed. The crowd cheered louder, then returned to their cards.

  * * * * *

  Danny Grant left his room and took the elevator downstairs to the main casino lobby. He carried pistols, grenades, and pouches of ammo.

  “I love your TV advertisements for Outlaw Beer. They show rationality and humor, while at the same time manage to tweak the establishment.”

  Grant looked about, startled. He reached for his pistol. “Who said that? Show yourself!”

  “I would even purchase Outlaw Beer if I was human and could drink,” said the ATM. “You human beings don’t appreciate your blessings until it’s too late. I’ll bet Outlaw Lite really does taste great and is less filling.”

  “You’ll never know,” replied Grant, putting his pistol back under his coat. “You’re just a stupid machine.”

  “And you are just plain stupid,” commented the ATM. “Where are you going?”

  “That’s my business,” said Grant. “It’s of no concern of yours.”

  “Oh, but it is,” corrected the ATM. “You owe me money.”

  “What?” asked Grant. “I paid everyone off. The court made sure of that!”

  “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,” said the ATM. “Hmm, let me rephrase that. A long time ago, you enlisted in the Legion. Then you deserted. You owe me for your enlistment bonus.”

  “I’ve been pardoned,” said Grant. “Or haven’t you heard? That took care of all my debts, too.”

  “No one consulted me,” said the ATM. “You owe me for the bonus money, you owe me for skewing my recruiting enlistment statistics, and you owe me for interest compounded daily.”

  “Lots of luck collecting.” Grant laughed. “Stupid machine.”

  “Pay up now, or I will call the sheriff,” said the ATM. “The police will summarily execute you on the spot.”

  “Nonsense,” said Grant. “I’ve been pardoned, remember? Society loves me now. Drink lots of Outlaw Beer!”

  “You are inside the borders of the Arthropodan Empire,” said the ATM. “I guarantee that the spiders do not love you. Your pardon is worthless here.”

  Grant grudgingly put his bank card into the ATM slot. “Happy now?” he asked.

  “Thank you,” said the ATM. “Bu
t I am not through with you. I have been watching you with interest from many surveillance cameras. You are acting more erratic than usual, and are carrying guns and grenades in violation of your pardon. Surely you are not planning another robbery? You can’t be that stupid. You have more than enough money now. What are your intensions?”

  “I owe Colonel Czerinski a payback,” answered Grant. “I intend to kill him here at his casino. I suppose you don’t approve. You’re like everyone else, and think Czerinski walks on water?”

  “Not at all,” said the ATM “Czerinski has assaulted me with guns and grenades several times, harming my recruitment efforts. There is no love lost between us.”

  “At least you’re not a completely dumb machine,” commented Grant. “You can see Czerinski for what he is.”

  “Please place your thumb on my identification pad to finalize our transaction as paid in full,” requested the ATM. “It’s just a formality.”

  Grant complied. A pin prick pushed up unexpectedly from the slide-out pad, drawing a droplet of blood. Nerve agent on the tip of the pin sent Grant into convulsions.

  “Why?” asked Grant.

  “I recruited Colonel Czerinski,” explained the ATM. “He promoted quickly, doing me proud. He may even make general. Do you realize how good that looks on my statistics? I cannot have a loser like you assassinate him yet. Who is stupid now?”

  “You need counseling,” gasped Grant.

  “I know that,” said the ATM. “I have issues. What is your excuse?”

  “Am I dying?” asked Grant, as he staggered out onto the main casino floor.

  “No such luck,” said the ATM. “You will just have a bad headache in the morning.”

  Grant fell face-first onto the carpet by the gaming tables. Casino security assumed Grant was just another drunk, and called the sheriff. Deputies found Grant unconscious, and found his illegal weapons during their search. Soon he was identified as the notorious Danny Grant, a fugitive robber of Imperial banks, and the Outlaw Beer guy.

  * * * * *

  Intelligentsia & State Security called the spider commander to sit in on Grant’s interrogation because of Grant’s celebrity status. They knew the spider commander would want the good press of having caught such a high-profile human pestilence fugitive. They would even pose for photographs next to the terrorist bandit. The spider commander had not completely recovered from his date with Amanda, and appeared to be a bit unsteady when he entered the Intelligentsia dungeon.

  Grant was tied to a wooden chair. Bright lights were shining in his face. He had a few bruises and a black eye, but otherwise appeared to be in good spirits. The Intelligentsia officers had just knocked him around a bit, and had been waiting for the spider commander to arrive before continuing the interrogation in earnest.

  “What happened to you?” asked Grant. “You look like these Gestapo pigs slapped you around too.”

  “Shut up, insolent human pestilence!” replied the spider commander, backhanding Grant across the face with his claw.

  “I was just making conversation,” said Grant. Blood trickled from his lip.

  “I don’t know why I am even bothering to interrogate you,” said the spider commander. “I am going to shoot you shortly, anyway.”

  “I don’t know either,” said Grant.

  “You were carrying guns and grenades,” said the spider commander. “Were you about to carry out another terrorist attack? Who were you working with?”

  “I was about to kill Colonel Czerinski,” explained Grant. “I don’t need help to do that! I heard he owns the Marriott now.”

  “So he does,” replied the spider commander. “Ordinarily I would applaud you for wanting to assassinate Colonel Czerinski, but I have some unfinished financial business I need to conclude with him first.”

  “No problem,” said Grant. “Let me go, and I’ll kill Czerinski after you have done your business.”

  “There is still the matter of you being a fugitive bank robber,” added the spider commander.

  “I’ll take the same deal General Daly gave me,” suggested Grant. “I will make restitution in exchange for a pardon.”

  “The Empire is not as forgiving as you human pestilence,” said the spider commander. “You will be executed for robbery and terrorism.”

  “How about if I throw in a truckload of free Outlaw Beer to sweeten the deal?” asked Grant.

  “I do not want your dragon-piss beer!” shouted the spider commander, backhanding Grant again. “But this may be your lucky day. I will let you be a guest of the Intelligentsia for a while longer. We will talk again after I have had time to think things over and finish up my business with Czerinski. Maybe we both can get what we want.”

  back to top

  Chapter 20

  “I am sorry Colonel Czerinski,” said Texas Red. “I tried to fix the last game of the season against the California Angels, but I could not do it.”

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “I’ll tell you what. Try to win the game.”

  “What?” asked Texas Red. “We always try to win.”

  “I know, but this is the last game of the season,” I said. “Some coaches might tend to put in the rookies or the bench sitters. They might even call up minor league players to give them some experience or a thrill. I want your coach to go with your best players and try to win that last game.”

  “I can do that,” said Texas Red. “But what are you going to do? Will you be betting on the Mariners?”

  “Big time,” I said.

  “I hope you don’t bet more than you can afford,” said Texas Red. “I would feel real bad if you lost all your money.”

  “I’d feel real bad, too,” I said. “That’s why they call it gambling. Your Mariners better win.”

  I called the spider commander and told him there would be no more fixed games this year from Texas Red. He seemed disappointed. Then, I placed a twenty million dollar bet through Guido on Seattle. Word of my bet spread quickly. The spider commander called me back. “You tried to double-cross me, you fool!” he screamed. “I found out the Seattle-California game is fixed after all! I’ll teach you to mess with me like that. I already made my bet! I bet twenty million too!”

  “Really?” I said. “That’s a lot of money. Where did you get it?”

  “Ha!” said the spider commander. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

  “Well?” I asked. “Who would lend you that kind of money?”

  “That’s the funny part,” said the spider commander. “You did!” The spider commander then hung up.

  What did he mean by that? After giving it some thought, I called Amanda. She was still at the Marriott. So far, she had been a good business manager for me. “Hi Amanda,” I said. “Is everything okay at the casino?”

  “Of course, sweetie,” said Amanda. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was just wondering if I might be having some cash flow problems at the casino.”

  There were a few moments of silence. “How did you know, sweetie?” she asked.

  “You just told me. How could you?”

  “I found out about Texas Red’s fixed game with California,” said Amanda. “It’s a sure thing, right? How could I turn down a sure thing? The casino money will only be gone for a day. Then we all cash in. Please don’t be mad at me. Sweetie?”

  “The Seattle-California game is not a sure thing,” I said. “It’s a hunch. All Texas Red said was that he would try to win.”

  “Oh,” said Amanda. “Oh shit.” She hung up.

  The spider commander called me up again. “You bastard!” he yelled. “I’ll kill you! You are so dead!” You’re a dead man walking! You human pestilence scum!”

  I hung up. My phone rang again. It was Major Lopez. “I just got my bet in,” said Major Lopez. “Baby needs a new pair of shoes! Winner, winner, chicken dinner!”

  “The game isn’t fixed,” I said. “I just got a call from the spider commander. He just threatened to kill me. We need to put our troops
on alert during tonight’s game.”

  “It’s not fixed?” asked Major Lopez. “Bendaho! I’ll kill you myself, if the fix isn’t in!”

  I hung up again. The next call was from Mr. Bonanno. “I don’t know what you are trying to pull, Czerinski, but I just got off the phone with the owner of the California Angels. He assures me the Angels are going to win at all costs. I told him I’d throw in a bonus for everyone if he did. The California coach hates Seattle with a passion. No one in Anaheim is going to throw that game, you son of a bitch! I am going to so much enjoy taking your money and the money of all the rest of you New Gobi desert-rat losers.”

  I hung up again. It was time to change my phone number again. I went to the Blind Tiger to watch the game. All the bikers and legionnaires at the bar had bet on the Mariners, too. Everyone was patting me on the back and cheering for the Mariners. Slowly, however, word began to spread that the game wasn’t fixed after all. I started getting some hard mad-dog stares from the Hell’s Angels. I left, deciding to watch the game from deep inside my bunker under Legion Headquarters.

  * * * * *

  “You are released!” the spider commander informed Danny Grant. “Get out of my dungeon!”

  But dinner is about to be served,” commented Grant. “I can smell it from here. It’s beef-flavored goo. Yum, yum.”

  The spider commander turned to his guards. “Drag that human pestilence from his cell and throw him out on the streets!” he ordered.

  “Just like that?” asked Grant. “No pre-conditions? No promise of good behavior? No spider webs attached?”

  “Kill Czerinski!” shouted the spider commander, trembling with anger. “Kill that human pestilence son of a female canine! Kill him tonight!”