Enemies Page 3

  “It sucks,” said Mountain Claw.

  “Are you ready to leave?” asked Grant.

  “Yes,” replied Mountain Claw. “Grant! I saw you on the news. You’re famous. And now you are breaking me out? I hope we don’t share the same noose. This might not end well.”

  “Those bumbling fools in the Legion will never catch me,” bragged Grant. “Why is there a Legion uniform in your closet?”

  “Mistaken identity,” explained Mountain Claw. “They think I enlisted in the Legion.”

  “Ha! That’s a good one,” exclaimed Grant. “Let’s go. I have a safe house nearby.”

  “Lead the way,” said Mountain Claw, putting on the Legion uniform. “This is all I have to wear. It will get us past the guards.”

  “There are no guards,” said Grant. “If we join forces, just think of how much havoc we can cause on both sides of the DMZ. I can get your spider fighters all the weapons and ammo they can carry.”

  “Are you planning a war?” asked Mountain Claw. “If you are, count me out. I am not a fanatic, and my gang will not be suicide bombers.”

  “Together we can make big money,” explained Grant. “We will run New Gobi City. But first, we need to kill Colonel Czerinski. Then the city will be ours.”

  “You might need to kill more than just one legionnaire commander to accomplish that,” commented Mountain Claw. “You might need to kill some Arthropodan marines, too. But I agree. Killing Czerinski would be a good first step.”

  “Czerinski’s days are numbered.”

  “Can I drive?”

  “No.”

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  Chapter 5

  “The video clearly shows our new recruit leaving the hospital with Danny Grant,” I observed. “It’s pretty conclusive.”

  “I knew all along that little piss-ant spider wasn’t Legion material,” said Sergeant Green. “I knew he would go AWOL.”

  “Not so fast,” said Major Lopez. “Replay the video. There! Check out when Grant’s coat flips open. Grant has a gun in his belt, and he always keeps his hand near it. And notice how Grant stays behind Private Mountain Claw at all times.”

  “You think our young spider Legionnaire was abducted?” I asked. “That’s a real stretch.”

  “It is at least a possibility,” argued Major Lopez. “You always assume the worst of people. What if he was abducted? We have a duty to try to get him back. We cannot just give up on a fellow legionnaire.”

  “He’s a spider!” said Sergeant Green. “You can’t trust spiders! They’re too unstable.”

  “You know as well as I do, some of our best legionnaires are spiders,” advised Major Lopez. “Just look at Lieutenant Washington. Spider legionnaires have proven themselves in combat, time after time.”

  “That proves nothing,” said Sergeant Green. “I know Mountain Claw. He is a punk! I don’t see how he ever got through the screening process. Someone in Recruitment and the Department of Licensing really screwed up!”

  “Alright, it doesn’t really matter if Mountain Claw was abducted or not,” I said. “We will know for sure soon enough. The Legion GPS tracker embedded in his blood stream will lead us to his location. The good news is, we will finally catch up with Danny Grant and kill him. We will try to rescue Mountain Claw, but if he resists and gets killed too, it is no big deal. You are probably right that, at best, he is a marginal recruit. What we cannot allow is the media reporting that we tolerate the abduction of legionnaires by terrorists.”

  “And we don’t tolerate AWOLs either,” added Sergeant Green.

  * * * * *

  Mountain Claw woke to the smell of sausage and pepperoni pizza. He had been sleeping sprawled out on the floor of the front room. Now he was staring at a midget robot carrying a tray of pizza and soft drinks.

  “Did someone order out?” called out Mountain Claw, taking a slice of pizza.

  “Have some Pepsi too,” offered the robot.

  “Don’t you have Coke?”

  “No.”

  “I cannot,” said Mountain Claw. “Pepsi this early in the morning is bad for my blood sugar level. How much do I owe you?”

  “Take the radio,” suggested the robot.

  Mountain Claw picked up the radio and keyed the microphone. “Hello! Is this Pizza Hut? I want to put the order on my card, but I do not see a pay slot on your ATM.”

  “This is Sergeant Green!” answered a voice on the radio. “Is this Mountain Claw? Are you injured? You look drugged. Have they mistreated you? Those bastards!”

  Mountain Claw gave that some thought. Sergeant Green works at Pizza Hut? That must have really been some awesome weed last night. Humans always bring the best shit. Mountain Claw tried to focus on a small plaque attached to the base of the robot. It read, ‘United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion Hostage Negotiations Mobile Communications and Recovery Platform. If you can read this sign, you are in big trouble.’ This cannot be good, thought Mountain Claw.

  He looked about the room. Humans and spiders alike were passed out on the floor and furniture. Mountain Claw keyed the microphone again. “Master Sergeant Green? Thank God! I am coming out!”

  Mountain Claw stepped over bodies of members of his gang to the front door, where he ran outside waving his claw frantically. “Don’t shoot! Don’t pay the ransom! I’ve escaped!”

  Danny Grant, Al Turner, and Robert Acosta watched from the next hill as Legion Helicopter gunships pummeled Mountain Claw’s hideout with rockets and Gatling gun fire. “We got lucky,” commented Grant. “I always say early risers prosper. Mark my words. I will get even. Czerinski will die slow and painful.”

  * * * * *

  Arthropodan Air Defense went on high alert after radar detected Legion Air Force activity along the border in the Gila Hills. Marine scouts confirmed Legion helicopter gunships and mechanized infantry attacked a ranch in a disputed area just inside the Arthropodan border. The spider commander and his military intelligence officer flew out to personally inspect the scene.

  “There are at least thirty mixed human and spider civilian deaths in the rubble,” commented the military intelligence officer. “A couple more were found along the roadway, shot in the head.”

  “Executed?” asked the spider commander.

  “Probably.”

  “Were these insurgents?” asked the spider commander.

  “Usually spider and human insurgents do not mix,” said the military intelligence officer. “But there were enough busted-up assault rifles and drugs to suspect that they were either insurgents or drug dealers. I think the Legion did us a favor.”

  “Even so, the Legion should not attack on our side of the border without informing us first,” said the spider commander. “Colonel Czerinski must be taught to respect our borders.”

  “This area is disputed because of the rugged terrain, and because some of the original border beacons have been moved or vandalized,” commented the military intelligence officer. “However, I am confident we are now standing on our side of the border.”

  “Have a survey team install new markers and string new fence,” ordered the spider commander. “Post a company of armor to enforce and establish the border boundary.”

  * * * * *

  Satellite imagery shows the spiders have occupied the Gila Hills and the terrorist compound we destroyed,” announced Major Lopez. “They have deployed mechanized infantry and are building a border fence. It appears they think the compound is on their side of the border.”

  “I know,” I replied. “The spider commander has already sent General Daly a formal protest about civilian deaths on Imperial territory.”

  “Border beacons indicate the compound is on our side of the MDL,” advised Major Lopez. “Those spider marines are trespassing!”

  “Send Lieutenant Washington and a company of Legionnaires to escort our own survey crew to settle the matter once and for all,” I ordered. “There’s nothing in those hills I want, but I agree that we can’t let the spiders pu
sh us around. Trespassing will not be tolerated. I don’t like their commander making false accusations. He’s always trying to stir up trouble.”

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  Chapter 6

  Lieutenant George Rambo Washington, the first spider recruited into the Legion, and now the Legion’s first spider officer, led a company of mechanized infantry to the destroyed Gila Hills bandit compound. The survey crew immediately began their work with the GPS.

  Lieutenant Washington, like all of his species, had an instinctual territorial imperative hardwired into his DNA. When it came to trespassing, Lieutenant Washington became obsessive-compulsive – the common human term being anal. Trespass issues particularly aggravated Lieutenant Washington because he was a Green spider. Greens had been persecuted on the spider home world, denied property ownership rights, and forced to immigrate to New Colorado, where they were granted citizenship by the United States Galactic Federation. The Empire throwing its weight around at the border struck a raw nerve. Lieutenant Washington strode up to the newly erected razor-wire fence and called out to the Arthropodan marines on the other side. “This fence is on United States Galactic Federation territory. Move it back now!”

  An Arthropodan marine team leader approached the fence. “The exact border has not yet been established. We are still making our calculations.”

  “You will move this fence at once!” ordered Lieutenant Washington. “Obviously your inferior Imperial technology is, as usual, not up to our high American standards. Legion GPS can determine the exact border location to within an inch of accuracy. The border is located on the other side of that rubble that used to be a den of terrorists. You will join their fate if you do not pull back.”

  “So you say,” said the team leader. “I will reserve judgment on that until after my survey team finishes. I certainly will not rely on the word of or bow to threats from a traitorous Green like you.”

  “I will give you one hour to make your calculations,” warned Lieutenant Washington. “If you have not moved this fence and pulled back by then, I will call in an air strike.”

  “And you will be nuked from space,” threatened the spider team leader. “It will be good riddance to you and the rest of you slimy, money-grubbing Greens. We should have taken care of you traitors a long time ago!”

  Both officers retreated behind their armor and waited. After fifty-nine minutes, the Arthropodan marines moved their fence back fifty yards to the other side of the destroyed compound.

  “You are lucky I was ordered back, you Green scum!” shouted the spider team leader on a loud speaker. “Next time, I will just shoot you on the spot! I will water these hills with the blood of you and your kind!”

  “Up yours,” Lieutenant Washington shouted back, giving the team leader the one-fingered American salute.

  * * * * *

  Danny Grant sent Mountain Claw a text message. “What is your status?”

  “You are still alive?” asked Mountain Claw, replying immediately. “They still think I enlisted into the USGF Foreign Legion. I get posted to guard duty in a few days. I will go AWOL then.”

  “No. Stay put. You are better able to give us information on Legion plans, and you can more easily assassinate Colonel Czerinski if you stay in the Legion.”

  “I hate it here,” texted Mountain Claw. “The food sucks, and Master Sergeant Green keeps yelling at me. You ever eat an MRE? The pound cake is especially toxic.”

  “Tough shit,” replied Grant. “MREs are good for you. They’re nutritious. You will stay where you are.”

  As promised, a few days later, Mountain Claw found himself riding in an armored car with Sergeant Green, heading up a winding dirt road through the Gila Hills to his new assignment. It was ironic the Legion was sending him home for guard duty. As they approached a sharp bend in the road, Mountain Claw saw a dead deer in the roadway. He panicked. “Stop the car!” he yelled.

  “What the hell?’ asked Sergeant Green, spilling his coffee as the driver slammed on the breaks. “Recruit, you better have a good explanation!”

  Mountain Claw climbed up into the turret and fired the machine gun at the deer carcass. Nothing happened. He fired again, blowing the remains into the ditch. Then Mountain Claw fired wildly into the brush and the surrounding hills. Finally Sergeant Green tackled him. The machine gun swung around, red hot from the long bursts.

  “I thought it was a roadside bomb!” explained Mountain Claw.

  “That’s the problem,” replied Sergeant Green. “You thought! Idiots like you aren’t supposed to think. You just follow orders!”

  The other legionnaires got a good laugh from that. Just then, there was a large explosion from the ditch where the deer lay. The explosion rocked the armored car. The laughing stopped. As the dust cleared, Sergeant Green peered through a portal slit at the large crater.

  “Get a drone in the air! Radio Headquarters that there are still insurgents active in this area.” Green turned to Mountain Claw, slapping him on the back like an old drinking buddy. “Good work, private. We’ll make a legionnaire out of you yet. Have a cigar!” Sergeant Green passed out cigars to everyone. They all lit up, comrades in arms. “We cheated the Grim Reaper again!”

  * * * * *

  After arriving at the Gila Hills ruins, Sergeant Green inspected the camp and then settled into his tent. Having survived another brush with death, he just wanted to relax. Green poured himself a whiskey.

  About midnight, a shadowy figure swept up to Sergeant Green’s tent. Sergeant Green, alert to the intruder, brandished a pistol in one hand and a grenade in the other. With a razor-sharp scythe, the seven-foot-tall aberration slowly slit the front of the tent and entered. Eyeing the apparition wearing a black hooded cloak and carrying a long-handled sickle, Sergeant Green scooted back on his cot. He knew exactly who this was. “Death!” he shouted.

  “May I come in, Sergeant Green?” asked the Grim Reaper, pale white with a toothy grin. “I have been meaning to visit you for a long time.”

  “No! Get out!”

  “Call me Thanatos,” said the Grim Reaper, conversationally. “Do not be afraid. I am merely a guide to the next world. Come with me. Your soul must now sever its last tie to your body.”

  “Like Hell it must!” responded Sergeant Green, tossing the grenade and firing his pistol. Thanatos fell backwards out of the tent. The explosion caused alarm and chaos in the camp, and the tent collapsed.

  Legionnaires rushed to help. Lieutenant Washington pulled Sergeant Green from the debris. Washington could smell the whiskey on Green’s breath. “What happened?” he asked. “Who were you shooting at?”

  Green was drunk, but he had enough wits about him to know better than to admit he had just fought a battle against the Grim Reaper. “An insurgent cut his way into my tent,” he said. “I shot him and threw a grenade.”

  “Not likely,” said Lieutenant Washington. “There is no blood. You are drunk and a menace to all around you. I will have you up on charges!”

  Mountain Claw stepped forward from the crowd of gathering legionnaires. “Sir, I saw someone run from the area after the explosion.”

  “What did he look like?” asked Lieutenant Washington.

  “It was a human pestilence,” said Mountain Claw, adding with a shrug, “They all look alike to me.”

  “I don’t believe either of you for a minute!” replied Lieutenant Washington. “I’ll have you both in prison!” Lieutenant Washington closely examined what was left of the front of the tent. He found part of the tarp had been cut, just as Sergeant Green had claimed. “This matter is not over! I can promise you that!” Washington then left to check the guard positions on the perimeter.

  “You saw him, too?” asked Sergeant Green, approaching Mountain Claw. “You saw Death?”

  “I do not know what I saw,” answered Mountain Claw. “But it was not an insurgent. It wore a black hood and had a moon-white face. Its eyes glowed red, and it pointed a long, curved blade, saying I was next. I am thinking I do
not want to be next. If you are first in line to die, I am thinking I want to keep you alive for as long as possible, Master Sergeant Green.”

  “We both looked Death in the eye and lived,” commented Sergeant Green. “That’s saying something!”

  “I always knew Death would be scary, but I never thought he would be a human pestilence wielding a harvesting instrument.”

  “I’m keeping you close at all times,” said Sergeant Green. “I’m making you my driver. You will go wherever I go. Together we will cheat Death again. We’ll kick that punk’s ass!”

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  Chapter 7

  Major Lopez handed me a report from Lieutenant Washington about Master Sergeant Green getting drunk and recklessly exploding a grenade in camp. The report stated that Green shot his pistol wildly, claiming to have fought off insurgents that no one else saw. Later, Green was overheard saying that he battled the Grim Reaper, and just barely won. I tossed the report into the trash.

  “You don’t think Sergeant Green has become unstable?” asked Major Lopez.

  “Not really,” I answered. “You, Green, and I entered the Legion together. We were the first to beam down to New Colorado after the spider invasion. We all have been through a lot. Green is entitled to be given a little slack. If Green says the Grim Reaper visited him, then I believe him. Just be glad it was Green that got visited, not us.”

  “Lieutenant Washington is furious,” said Major Lopez. “I doubt he will let this drop.”

  “Lieutenant Washington needs to take his medication more often,” I said. “That big Green spider calling anyone crazy is ironic. I’m going to the Blind Tiger to get drunk and forget about everything. Want to join me?”