America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 21: Breaking Very Bad (3 page)

“Not so fast!” interrupted Eugene Depoli, Legion attorney, bursting into the dungeon, waving legal papers. “I’m here to spring Badger.”

“He’s a master spy,” accused Major Lopez. “The traitor will face a firing squad.”

“Bugle Boy?” scoffed Depoli, laughing. “Badger is dumber than a bag of hamsters. He’s not a master anything.”

“Nevertheless, he’s a traitor and will be shot.”

“Hard times love a chump, but you’re not shooting anyone.”

“He’s responsible for blowing up Pizza Hut.”

“So, eat at Godfathers. Private Badger is a legionnaire, on loan to the CIA, and as such, will be afforded all legalities and protections his Legion and CIA status affords.”

“This puss-sack is a legionnaire?” I asked incredulously. “He’s not in
my
Legion.”

“How do you think he got past Mars?” asked Depoli triumphantly. “You’re stuck with him for the duration.”

“It will be a short duration.”

“Be that as it may, he’s a legionnaire.”

“Does that mean they have to feed me?” asked Badger. “They haven’t fed me!”

“Shut up fool,” ordered Depoli. “You have the right to remain silent until I get you out of this mess.”

“He won’t last one day in the New Gobi.”

“Not my concern,” replied Depoli. “Badger was specially recruited for his technical expertise.”

“What expertise?” I challenged.

“He’s a highly trained chemist.”

“We’ll see about that,” I responded, cutting Badger down. He landed on his head, knocked out cold. “Another chemical war expert? I am sending a complaint to Legion recruiting.”

“Just because you don’t need him anymore doesn’t mean you can just throw him away, unless you want to pay back his enlistment bonus.”

“I’m not paying back anything!”

“As you said, he won’t last,” threatened Major Lopez. “None of them will.”

* * * * *

Believing in ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ I sent privates Badger, Whyte, and Pink on a long-range patrol led by Sergeant Williams along the DMZ, searching for drug traffickers. Sergeant Williams, just returned from Old Earth, had IRS problems. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Like the others, Williams didn’t think things through and didn’t look at the big picture – something I’d learned to do long ago.

Badger and Pink were proof recruitment shortages were affecting Legion standards. I could sympathize with recruiting people who needed a second chance, even petty criminals. But stupid? You can’t fix stupid. I expected both those fools to be casualties of the New Gobi Desert soon. Everything in the Gobi pokes, stings, or bites. Whyte, I wasn’t sure about. He probably wouldn’t last long either, but we’d see.

* * * * *

The patrol dispersed for ambush deployment along a remote trail leading from the border. Scorpion drug smugglers traveled the area frequently. It was only a matter of time before the patrol made contact.

“I have a plan,” advised Private Whyte, crouched behind rocks on a ridge overlooking the trail. “But it will take money.”

“Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face,” Pink groused. “That’s your problem.”

“I mean it. This will work. The problem isn’t the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem. You hear me?”

“I have a plan, too. It’s called staying alive this time!”

“Smoking marijuana, eating Cheese Doodles, and masturbating is not a plan,” argued Whyte, angrily grabbing Pink.

“Yo, get off me,” replied Pink, shaking Whyte’s hand off his arm. “Everything takes money. You always think you’re so smart. See where your smarts got us? In the Foreign Legion, that’s where!”

“The Legion is not so bad,” commented Badger, opening an MRE. “At least they feed us.”

“We’re an elite unit,” advised Whyte, ignoring Badger. “There are rumors Colonel Czerinski is charged with guarding a time machine humanity shares with the spiders. That time machine is our freedom.”

“It’s not a rumor,” advised Sergeant Williams, overhearing their conversation as he made his rounds. “I’ve seen it. But, you’ll never get close to it. Because of past glitches, access is restricted.”

“If I could go back in time, I could make things right,” reasoned Whyte. “I could get my family back.”

“You can’t undo the past,” scoffed Sergeant Williams. “It’s been tried. Life moves forward, not back. What would you do? Go back and kill yourself to do it all over again?”

“Why not? It’s got to be better than this. Microchips gave me back my youth, but what good is that without family?”

“AWOL is not an option,” warned Williams.

“Wouldn’t you like to go home and have a second chance?”

“The Legion
is
your second chance,” admonished Sergeant Williams dismissively. “Don’t blow it.”

A motion detector alarm activated. Sergeant Williams checked his communications pad, then motioned to the others that there was movement on the trail. In minutes, the first scorpions appeared, laden with heavy backpacks as they ambled along the trail at a steady pace. Sergeant Williams let out a rebel yell as he threw a grenade. The lead scorpions died. Others fled or burrowed into the dunes. A survivor twitched, struggling to free himself from his backpack. Sergeant Williams finished him off with a bullet to the head.

“Watch your partner’s back,” ordered Sergeant Williams, probing the sand with a bayonet. “Those bugs can resurface anytime!”

Private Whyte checked the dead scorpion’s backpack. It was full of blue powder. It also contained cash, as good as money. He pocketed the cash and a packet of blue powder.

“Collect those backpacks as evidence,” ordered Sergeant Williams. “Help is on the way to dig those scorpions out.”

As if on cue, a scorpion emerged from the sand, stinging Whyte on the shoulder. The telson broke off on Whyte’s protective vest, but not before injecting venom. Whyte fired his assault rifle into the scorpion as he fell unconscious into a hallucinatory state.

* * * * *

Demons swirled about in Whyte’s mind as the poison took effect. It seemed so real. A black hooded skeletal apparition wielding a long sharp Walmart-tagged scythe pressed the blade menacingly to Whyte’s throat.

“You cheated Death once, but not this time!” taunted the Grim Reaper. “I have you now.”

“This can’t be happening,” cried Whyte, dropping to his knees. “You aren’t real.”

“Oh, I’m real enough,” replied the Grim Reaper as he drew blood from Whyte’s throat. “Aren’t you going to beg for your life? Most legionnaires cry for mama when we meet, but not you, Mr. Whyte. You’re a special case. The Legion used its time machine to steal you from me, but I’m taking you back!”

“What did I ever do to deserve this!” pleaded Whyte, clutching his throat and gasping for air. “All I ever wanted was to raise and love my family.”

“You will join your family in Hell,” promised the Grim Reaper, now face to face with Whyte, the stench of his putrid breath causing Whyte to gag. “No one cheats Death!”

“No!”

Whyte slapped the Grim Reaper alongside his boney head with a packet of blue powder. The powder exploded in a cloud of dust. The grim reaper fell back, dropping his scythe. Whyte’s hallucination stopped.

* * * * *

Pink jerked Whyte away from the scorpion, pulling the telson out of his shoulder. A medic injected anti-venom vaccine as Whyte lay on the ground. “There was a monster,” cried Whyte. “He was going to take me to Hell!”

“Not today,” advised Sergeant Williams, kneeling beside Whyte. “Good job, legionnaire. You made a difference. You’re a survivor. I admire that. You killed that nasty scorpion, but good.”

“What about the monster?”

“Calm yourself. Let the anti-venom take effect. There are always going to be monsters. The Legion will deal with them later. The only monsters here now are in your head.”

“Damn it! It wasn’t in my head!”

“I know, son. You cheated Death. Not many can say that. Thanatos will not be happy. He will seek revenge. He stalks all legionnaires. But for now, you’re a Hero of the Legion. No one can take that away. Savor the moment while it lasts.”

Chapter 4

At battalion formation, I pinned a Hero of the Legion Medal on Private Whyte for killing a scorpion drug trafficker in hand-to-claw combat.
Good job, legionnaire.
Agent Hanks gave Whyte a DEA Medal of Merit. The two tried to hide their recognition, but their eyes were locked in hatred.
Damn, they all know each other.

I’m becoming resigned to the fact that Legion recruiters are accepting volunteers from the past. So be it. If today’s generation isn’t interested in saving the galaxy, let the CIA recruit as many as they want through their time machine. Bring on the best of the best from the past. Join the Legion, meet interesting species, kill them. We’ll be the ‘Legion of the Dead’ soon. Clearly a significant portion of my command are castoffs of time.

Company Commander Captain Columbus trailed behind me and Major Lopez. Columbus sashayed about with that flashy sword.
Really? Who does that?
A legionnaire’s past was confidential, but too many recruits were coming through the time portal. I continued inspecting the ranks, hiding my alarm.

After dismissal, Master Sergeant Green hung back to talk to Private Whyte. “Whyte, after-action reports indicate you hallucinated as a result of the scorpion sting. Do you remember?”

“No, not to my knowledge,” answered Private Whyte. “Why?”

“Did you not report to Sergeant Williams seeing monsters? Maybe you even saw the Grim Reaper?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course not. There’s no such thing.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“Sergeant, what’s this about? I did my duty, killing a scorpion drug dealer. Let it be.”

“Fine. Go get drunk with your buddies. Do not think the Grim Reaper will just forget about you. He never forgets.”

“Whatever. I won’t get drunk, but I will celebrate surviving by drinking a beer or two with my comrades. Thank you for your concern, sergeant. I can take care of myself.”

* * * * *

At the Blind Tiger Casino, Private Whyte surveyed the rough crowd.
Beauty truly is in the eye of the beer holder.
None of the females of any species compared to what he had at home. All turned to salute the newest Hero of the Legion.

“To Valtar Whyte!” toasted Sergeant Williams raising a beer. “A warrior, our newest Hero of the Legion!”

Legionnaires and biker babes rushed forward to pat Whyte on the back and offer more beer. Whyte felt more alive than he had since leaving Old Earth. Officers kept saying the Legion is the same as family, but until now he didn’t believe it. Even Pink and Badger seemed to be in good spirits.

“This place is crazy,” advised Pink, joining Whyte at a table. “We go out and kill drug dealers, then come back here and the place is overflowing in blue powder.”

“And alien chicks are hitting on me,” added Badger. “Spiders like fat guys. Who knew?”

Whyte glanced at the bar. Sure enough, spider babes were waving claws in their direction, and scorpions were shaking their stingers. It was alarming. Whyte gulped his beer and reached for another. “Are you seriously contemplating sex with a bug?” asked Whyte. “Is that even possible?”

“It’s more than possible,” answered a female scorpion caressing Whyte’s neck from behind. “You survived a sting. I like that in a human. Let me take you to the dark side of places you never contemplated.”

“No, thank you,” replied Whyte, brushing her claws away. “I prefer humans. Besides, I’m married.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

“You heard wrong. Get away from me.”

“Party-pooper,” she pouted, now eying Badger. “How about you, big boy?”

“I’m going for it!” shouted Badger, standing up. “You are female, right?”

The scorpion babe stung Badger in the neck. He flopped into her claws, and she carried him out the door. Sergeant Williams let out a rebel yell as the crowd cheered.

“That’s not right,” whispered Pink. “That’s some sick shit.”

“Badger never was too bright,” agreed Whyte.

“I mean everyone just going with it. I don’t think it’s safe.”

“It’s not,” advised Sergeant Williams, seating himself. “But you only die twice. You’re in the Legion now. Live life to the fullest. The Grim Reaper will take you soon enough.”

“He almost got me,” commented Whyte. “The Grim Reaper is real.”

“Damn right he’s real,” said Sergeant Williams, letting out another rebel yell, taking a swig of vodka. “He’s coming for us all!”

“We can cheat Death if we can use the time machine,” suggested Whyte. “You’ve used it. Help me get through.”