America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 4: Demilitarized Zone Page 3
“No,” I said. “Something that big could not be covered up. Everything is normal here.”
“I thought so, too,” said General Kalipetsis. “The governor also complained about that new lighthouse you had built. He appreciates the new lighthouse, but is complaining about the flashing neon sign that says, ‘SHOP WALMART. Only 435 MILES NORTH TO NEW MEMPHIS.’ The governor claims it looks tacky and is a blight on the landscape.”
“We are supposed to promote trade and economic activity along the DMZ,” I explained. “Technically, the New Mississippi River is part of the DMZ. And Walmart built the lighthouse for free.”
“Quite right,” agreed General Kalipetsis. “We are well within the terms of the peace treaty on that. I’ll tell him to stuff it if he doesn’t like the sign.”
“The governor would gripe if I hung him with a new rope.”
“What is the latest on that fossil dig?” asked General Kalipetsis.
“I’m working on it,” I replied. “Patience. This will take time.”
“You don’t have time,” said General Kalipetsis. “Military Intelligence says the spiders are sending reinforcements. I want that fossil dig destroyed. Make it look like an accident.”
“I’m still trying to confirm it is really fossils under the tent,” I said. “Anything else?”
General Kalipetsis checked his list. “Ah, yes. Did you threaten to shoot someone from the McDonald’s Corporation?” he asked.
“McDonald’s? The aircraft people?”
“I’m not sure,” said General Kalipetsis. “Have you threatened to shoot anyone lately?”
“Not recently,” I said. “We really need to get a handle on rumor control. It seems I spend half my time putting out fires that don’t exist.”
“I know how you feel,” said General Kalipetsis, dismissing the rest of the complaints, obviously satisfied that all was going well. “Call me as soon as you get an update on that fossil dig.”
* * * * *
Satellite photos showed spider trucks loading and unloading plastic containers at the large tent. Inferred imagery revealed a substantial heat source inside the tent. This did not lend credence to the spider guard’s claim about it only being a prehistoric dig. Even so, the spider guard brought Guido a small flat rock that had the imprint of a winged arachnid-looking creature on it. When General Kalipetsis was informed of the fossil, he gave approval for a commando strike on the tent.
Captain Lopez led a team of legionnaires carrying explosives. They parachuted across the border at night and approached the tent from the back side. They quietly slit the tent canvas and entered undetected, finding large metal tanks connected to long copper tubing. Sacks of sugar and ground corn were everywhere. Despite the fans circulating the air, the heat and smell of fermenting corn mash was oppressive.
“This is not a fossil dig of any kind,” commented Captain Lopez. “It’s some kind of chemical refinery.”
“It’s a still,” said Corporal Williams. “In fact, there are several stills. The spiders are making moonshine.”
“How do you know that?” asked Captain Lopez.
“I’m from Tennessee,” said Corporal Williams. “I am an expert on such things.”
Private John Iwo Jima Wayne, a spider legionnaire, picked up a plastic bottle and took a swig. “It’s good whiskey, too.”
“Do not drink that,” ordered Corporal George Rambo Washington, another spider legionnaire. “It could be poisonous.”
“Only to a teetotaler like you,” sneered Private Wayne, taking another swig. “I say we load up as much as we can and carry our spoils out of here.”
“Knock it off!” ordered Captain Lopez. “No more drinking! Set your charges. We are blowing the whole operation up.”
“That’s a damn crying shame,” complained Corporal Williams, gulping a swig. “I’m taking some of this shine back with me for evidence. Brew this good must be illegal.”
“Why do we have to blow it up?” asked Private Wayne. “It seems like such a waste. Besides, we might start a war.”
“My orders are to destroy everything in the tent,” said Captain Lopez. “I did not jump out of a perfectly good airplane, hike through the desert at night, and risk my life behind enemy lines to not blow something up. Set the charges now.”
An hour later, a huge mushroom fireball lit up the sky on the spider side of New Gobi City. The spider commander immediately made accusations of Legion treachery. I denied involvement, suggesting that the explosion was accidental. I mentioned all the secondary explosions and asked the commander what was stored in the tent that was supposed to house only an archeological dig. The commander just shook with anger and stormed off, muttering about how I would be sorry I was ever hatched. The border situation was tense for days, as both sides moved armor into position.
Guido finally defused the situation by spreading rumors that the sabotage was a Mob hit. Guido explained that New Memphis gangsters were upset about the moonshine competition, and this was a stern warning that future bootlegging operations would not be tolerated without a negotiated cut of the profits.
The spider commander thought this new information to be plausible, and retracted his accusations against the Legion. He did not even bother to send a report to the governor or to the general staff. This was a local matter than need not concern them. The spider commander swore vengeance on the New Memphis Mafioso responsible for this latest outrage. The human pestilence Mafioso that did this were going to get whacked.
* * * * *
NEWS RELEASE
NEW MEMPHIS: Insurgents set off a truck bomb today, destroying a brewery belonging to reputed Mafioso kingpin Rudy “Johnny Walker” Juardo. A note left at a local New Memphis radio station stated the blast was part of the ongoing insurgency campaign to hit human pestilence economic targets. This is newsworthy because it indicates a shift in tactics. The insurgents are no longer restricting themselves to attacking McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and Taco Bell. General Kalipetsis called the attack barbarous, and vowed he would not rest until the culprits were hanged. Several leads in the case are being pursued, including saliva DNA collected from the envelope that contained the note. The DNA is being checked against both the Earth and Arthropodan databases. Local bar patrons surveyed were in agreement that no punishment could be too harsh for these evildoers.
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Chapter 5
Officially, the Arthropodan Empire did not support the insurgency against the Legion. The latest peace treaty dividing New Colorado included a pact to work together against terrorism. This was deemed in the interests of the Empire because some insurgents wanted independence from both Arthropoda and Old Earth. That did not mean, however, that Arthropoda did not sympathize with the insurgents in regard to certain border disputes. For example, New Memphis was a human pestilence enclave hundreds of miles up river from the DMZ. The Legion had refused to leave this mixed-species city at the end of the last round of fighting. To expedite the peace process, the human pestilence was allowed to keep New Memphis, but Arthropoda considered that abomination to be temporary at best.
When the Legion submitted a DNA sample from the letter claiming spider responsibility for the New Memphis terrorist bombing, Arthropodan Military Intelligence routinely checked the sample against their database. When the sample matched a local commander in New Gobi, it caused outrage. When Military Intelligence realized this commander was related to the Emperor, it caused alarm. When the governor was told the local commander was the same incompetent commander he had exiled to the New Gobi Desert, he was angry. The governor sent his military intelligence officer to New Gobi to handle the matter personally and discretely.
The DNA information was not given to the Legion, and already General Kalipetsis was accusing the governor of not being cooperative.
To the spider military intelligence officer, it seemed like New Gobi was getting more than its share of attention lately. The military buildup there was still unexplainable.
Satellite photos showed extensive Legion construction projects, and the Highway to Nowhere was almost complete. Also, the posting of that human pestilence Major Czerinski was a sure sign of trouble. A recent explosion on the Arthropodan side of the border, also detected by satellite, was being dismissed by the local commander as a sewer gas incident. This was the same commander whose DNA matched the New Memphis investigation, and his explanation was an obvious lie. The time had come for the military intelligence officer to see for himself what the hell was going on in New Gobi. If the local commander needed to be shot, the military intelligence officer would gladly do that himself, too.
A dust storm swept through New Gobi. It was not an uncommon event. However, this dust storm had uncovered something unusual. A spider patrol brought in five legion parachutes from just outside the camp perimeter. The implication was obvious. Perhaps the spider commander had made a mistake about suspecting New Memphis Mafiosi of bombing his distilling operation. Maybe it was Czerinski and the Legion after all. Not that he could do anything about it now. A surprise inspection by the planetary military intelligence officer was putting all projects on hold. The commander waited at the airstrip to greet the military intelligence officer and give him a short tour of Hell (New Gobi). They saluted and shook claws at the tarmac.
“Welcome to New Gobi,” said the spider commander. “Stay on the paved surface. Poisonous Gila monsters lurk under the soft sand. If you step on them, they will grip you in their jaws and not let go. Death will surely follow.”
“Oh?” said the military intelligence officer, alarmed and glancing about at the sandy New Gobi Desert that extended for miles. “We do not have such creatures in the North.”
“Gila monsters are just one of many things you have to get used to in New Gobi,” said the commander, enjoying his little lie. He could smell the discomfort and fear of the military intelligence officer. “Will you be staying long?”
“I hope not. I am here to talk to you about why you bombed a brewery in New Memphis. Also, I want an update on the military situation here in New Gobi. Why is the Legion sending its First Division to New Gobi?”
“Legion commandos blew up a supply tent. At first I thought it was a sewer gas explosion. But today we found the commandos’ parachutes. I believe the matter is connected to a New Memphis Mafia labor dispute. Rather than attacking the Legion and risking a military escalation, I hit the Mafia brewery in New Memphis.”
“You lie poorly,” accused the military intelligence officer. “You are under arrest for insubordination and treason.”
The commander drew his pistol and shot the military intelligence officer and his two aides. He ordered all three buried in the desert, along with the Legion parachutes. Now the spider commander could turn his attention to Major Czerinski and the Legion.
* * * * *
The grand opening of Walmart came off on schedule. In accordance with Walmart’s DMZ economic plan, the store opened to customers on both sides of the border. Unlike other Walmart stores, this one had a Military Demarcation Line (MDL) painted on the floor through the center of the store. Customers were instructed not to pass across the MDL without a visa, under penalty of being shot. Spider border guards patrolled the MDL, particularly watchful of shoppers straying across the line.
Thousands of tourists were attracted by what was soon called the Cold War Walmart. Tourists were warned that the stern spider guards had no sense of humor, and to not harass them. These were not the Queen’s Foot Guards at Buckingham Palace that everyone made faces at. Several times Walmart was cleared of customers when spider guards fired warning shots into the ceiling because of teenagers giving them the one-fingered salute.
Walmart erected a 328-foot flagpole on the American side. It flew a large star-swirl-and-stripes Galactic American flag. Not to be outdone, the spider commander erected a 525-foot flagpole on the Arthropodan side. This huge Arthropodan flag, an eight-point star on a green background, was a wonder to behold, weighing 595 pounds. I made inquiries as to whether the spider flag and pole could withstand a New Gobi dust storm. I was told yes, but it was doubtful the flag would survive in a rainstorm. The added weight to the flag caused by moisture would surely topple the entire structure. I diligently checked weather reports every day, hoping for rain. In the desert, no such luck.
I sensed the spider commander continued to be a bit testy about his still being blown up. Border guards were rude and anxious to provoke incidents. I scheduled a face-to-face meeting between the spider commander and myself for next week. I hoped there would be no incidents between now and then. The skies were still mostly clear, but I could see a few puffs of moisture over the distant mountains. I remained hopeful, despite historical rainfall levels of zero to less than an inch per year.
In spite of tension along the border, Guido seemed to get along just fine with the lower ranking spider guards. I suspect he was developing his usual black-market contacts. The spider team leaders were another matter. The spiders planted a large fruit tree at Guido’s border crossing, next to the MDL. Guido did not mind the fruit tree because it provided shade from the oppressive sun’s heat. But part of the tree extended across the MDL to the Legion side, obscuring Guido’s view of oncoming traffic. To solve this minor problem, Guido pruned the tree with makeshift hedge clippers. As always, Guido’s monitor dragon Spot came along, happy to follow his master wherever he went.
Immediately a spider team leader confronted Guido. “Human pestilence, stop that!” demanded the team leader. “That tree is Imperial property on our side of the MDL.”
“Get lost,” replied Guido. “The branches hang over the line on our side.”
The team leader drew his pistol and shot Guido in the head. Fortunately, the bullet glanced off Guido’s Kevlar helmet. Guido fell unconscious to the ground. Spot immediately struck the team leader, tearing him apart. Guido’s partner back at the guard shack, Corporal Williams, ran out to assist. Blood streamed down Guidos’s face. A spider guard also ran to the scene. As the spider was about to shoot the monitor dragon, Corporal Williams fired his assault rifle, killing the guard. Corporal Williams then dragged Guido by the collar to cover, back across the checkpoint.
An Arthropodan tank soon responded to a general alarm, as did a Legion armored car. They both fired missiles and machine guns before retreating behind buildings, establishing defensive positions. Both sides called for air support. Panicked customers at Walmart streamed out both sides of the store with looted merchandise, adding to the confusion.
My phone rang. As I reached to answer, an artillery round smashed into my office, burying me in rubble. I was oblivious to the escalating fighting at the border crossing for the rest of the afternoon. Captain Lopez and a work crew dug me out later. Most of the buildings on both sides of the border were damaged. Only Walmart had gone unscathed. I ordered constantina wire laid across the shopping aisles dividing the store. Also, I was informed a Legion helicopter gunship had been shot down and its crew captured.
“What happened?” I asked, dusting myself off. “How come it took so long to dig me out? I thought I had been forgotten about.”
“Corporal Tonelli got into some sort of confrontation at the border crossing,” explained Captain Lopez, inspecting the debris. “I will be reviewing the helmet camera recordings. It is amazing you are still alive. Look at this place.”
“Believe it,” I said. “Tell the spider commander I want to move our meeting up to tomorrow. We both have issues to discuss that cannot wait.”
Then, miraculously, it rained. I set up a lawn chair in front of my destroyed office building, and watched the Arthropodan flagpole. I drank a beer as I waited. The rain came down in torrents. It didn’t take long. I could hear the metal bending as the gargantuan Arthropodan flag absorbed rainwater. The additional weight violently snapped the flagpole. It crashed into the spider side of Walmart, putting a hole in the roof. I raised my beer in a toast to the rain. Legionnaires cheered.
Even though the shooting had stopped,
late that night, spider commandos came up through a tunnel and blew up my newly completed swimming pool. The explosion woke me from a sound sleep. As dawn approached, Legion commandos placed charges around the trunk of the offending fruit tree at the border crossing. The resulting explosion toppled the tree onto the spider side of the DMZ, where it caught fire. Good riddance!
* * * * *
The conference room was just a side office at Walmart. The MDL was painted on the floor, dividing the room. The MDL was also painted across the conference table. Someone even dutifully drew a small red MDL across an ashtray set at the middle of the table.
“Are we done shooting at each other?” I asked. “General Kalipetsis wants to know. I am sure your general staff does too.”
“For now,” replied the spider commander.
“There was no need for you to blow up my swimming pool last night,” I said.
“We thought it was a missile silo or a command and control communications bunker,” explained the spider commander. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m sorry about your fruit tree,” I said. “I lost my temper.”
“I am willing to end hostilities if you are,” said the spider commander. “Video indicates it was caused by some sort of misunderstanding at the border crossing.”
“Misunderstanding?” I asked. “Your team leader shot Corporal Tonelli. You have instigated a pattern of provocation along the border for quite some time. There is no excuse for your behavior.”
“You started it by blowing up my distillery,” accused the spider commander. “Do you realize how much revenue I lost? I have contracts to fill. I was nearly put out of business!”