America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 21: Breaking Very Bad (9 page)

“
Hola
yourself,” replied Captain Columbus. “I’ve been in radio contact with Colonel Czerinski, but the DEA agent is still unaccounted for. I will skewer you with my sword if you ate the narc. Hell, I may skewer your savage ass anyway.”

“Agent Hanks is alive and well. Unfortunately Gus is dead, leaving me unemployed.”

“Did I overhear talk of unemployment in these trying financial times?” called out a Foreign Legion recruitment ATM attached to the side of Captain Columbus’ armored car. “Come closer, my outlaw biker scorpion
hombre
, old buddy of mine. You’ve got financial woes? Your cash-flow isn’t what it used to be? Need a loan to stay in the game? Today is your lucky day. I am the last ATM you will ever need. I can make all your financial problems go away.”

Tu-Sting approached the ATM cautiously. He had heard horror stories about recruits being sucked off the streets and into the Legion, never to be seen again, by merely being in close proximity to an ATM. “I don’t have any financial stress that can’t be fixed by landing another job” he replied.

“I can also make your DEA problems go away,” stated the ATM ominously. “Did you think Agent Hanks was just going to forget about you and disappear?”

“Can you make Hanks disappear, permanently?”

“Not likely,” answered the ATM. “That cop has no sense of humor. You weren’t really going to eat him, were you?”

“No way, Jose. I was just kidding, ha, ha.”

“Electronic warrants for your arrest, based on video evidence, have already been issued for attempted murder of a federal officer, conspiracy to manufacture and distribute blue powder, and even within the last few minutes, solicitation to murder a federal officer. You’re up shit-creek, boy. However, if you sign this Legion enlistment contract, I am authorized to reduce all charges to misdemeanors and time served. What do you say? Are you ready to take charge of your sorry excuse for a life? To stop being a worthless pimple on the ass of society? To be all you can be? An army of one? You have five minutes to decide before Colonel Czerinski returns from his bunker.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” answered Tu-Sting, quickly signing. “What’s all this fine print on the back?”

“Nothing important, just your medical plan, so you can get your droopy tail fixed, your enlistment bonus, and your length of service requirement.”

“How long is my enlistment?”

“For the duration. Your fun, travel, and adventure begins now. Make something of yourself. Make a difference. Be proud, be brave, be a legionnaire.”

* * * * *

Often, honesty is the best policy, but usually not for important matters. Nevertheless, I personally broke the bad news to Private Whyte. He could tell Pink later. It was either that, or shoot them both for manufacturing blue powder.

“Neither of you are going back in time to Old Earth until your Legion commitment is complete. I am informed your AWOL would skew ATM enlistment quotas. Sorry, it’s not negotiable. It’s the law, written somewhere in the Constitution.”

“Pink is deathly afraid of ATMs, commented Whyte, distracted by mention of ATMs. “He once saw an ATM crush a man’s head.”

“Whatever, as long as you both know it’s not negotiable. You’re staying.”

“Those were wild times.”

“Hello!”

“Nothing in the galaxy is not negotiable,” replied Whyte firmly. “I will get my family back.”

“You’re a criminal. Maybe your family is better off without you.”

“There are criminals, and there are criminals. I’m not really a criminal. Everything I’ve done was done solely to provide for my family. That’s what a man does, whether he’s appreciated or not.”

“The universe is trying to tell you something,” I explained as we walked through the debris of the Diablo battlefield. “It would cause a paradox if you went back and met yourself, especially if you killed yourself, or your evil twin, or whatever. You’re not going back.”

“How about if my family comes to me?” asked Whyte reasonably. “We got rid of the Grim Reaper. You owe me that.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I answered, giving it thought. “We can abduct your family and bring them to New Colorado. I don’t think anyone would even notice.”

“Is that possible?”

“You’re from New Mexico, right? People in New Mexico get abducted by aliens all the time. Can you lure your family to Roswell? It’s a hotspot.”

“Most certainly. My wife can be a bit difficult, but I can make it happen, if you can make it happen.”

“We’ll see.”

Chapter 14

Skyler drove up to the ATM at the Wells Fargo Bank of Albuquerque to withdraw three hundred dollars from her checking account. Already overdrawn, she hoped that if she could take money late Friday, she would have time to make a deposit Monday before checks in the mail were cashed. Her husband was missing again, doing who knows what, and she didn’t know what else to do.
Fugue state, my ass
, she fumed. Pregnant, tired, and frustrated, Skyler was at her wits end.

“Three hundred dollars, Mrs. White?” asked the ATM sympathetically, continuing to spit out hundreds. “Take a few thousand. Your account is good for it.”

“A talking ATM? What? No! Stop giving me money. Are you broken?”

“It’s your money. Take as much as you want.”

“How is that possible?”

“Your husband wants you and Flynn to join him in Roswell. The original plan was for you to be abducted by aliens, but that’s against the law. It’s written somewhere in the Constitution that alien abductions will not be tolerated.”

“Walter was abducted by aliens?” asked Skyler doubtfully. Someone in line honked their horn. She flipped them the one-fingered salute. “You give me back my husband right now. I want to talk to the manager!”

“Mr. White warned me you might be a bit bitchy, and need convincing. If you choose to stay, you will be well provided for, but he really needs to talk to you and Flynn face-to-face in Roswell.”

“How dare you talk to me like that!”

“Sorry, we got off topic. A new life awaits you in Roswell.”

“I don’t understand,” cried Skyler. “Wells Fargo has abducted Walter and is holding him in Roswell?”

“Your husband’s cancer has been cured by alternative medicine. We can also cure Flynn’s cerebral palsy, and restore your youth and stunning good looks.”

“I don’t know what kind of scam you are running, but I won’t have any part of it,” replied Skyler, glancing at herself in the rear view mirror.”

“Scam?” asked the ATM, genuinely hurt as it continued to dispense hundred-dollar bills. “I am honest, if I am any thing else. This offer will not be repeated. Your husband only wants to provide for his family. Let him. A luxury suite has been reserved for you at the Alien Inn & Hotel in Roswell. Go see your husband. Get a massage and be pampered. He will explain everything. You have nothing to lose. If you don’t want to leave for a new life, you can still keep the cash, it’s as good as money. I am the last ATM you will ever need.”

Several cars honked their horns. Upset, Skyler parked her car and stormed into the bank, plunking a shopping bag of money on the manager’s desk.

“Your ATM is broke. I do not intend to be arrested because of your mistakes!”

“Mrs. White,” greeted the manager in a friendly tone. “Our ATMs do not make mistakes. That’s your money. Do you want to make a deposit? I’ll handle it personally. Please, have a seat. I see you’re expecting.”

“Do you know that your ATM talks?”

“About what?”

“Aliens, going to Roswell.”

“I see. I’ll have our tech people look into it. Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mrs. White?”

“I don’t know what to do,” answered Skyler, slumping in her chair, weeping. “It’s my husband. He’s driving me crazy, and now this. How can this money be mine?”

“When you get to Roswell, I am sure Mr. White will explain everything.”

“Who said anything about joining Walter in Roswell?” asked Skyler, jumping up. “You’re in on it!” She looked around. Tellers and customers were all staring. “You’re all in it. This is a conspiracy!”

“Please, Mrs. White. Can I call someone? Think of your condition. Think of Holly”

“No!”

The manager’s phone rang. It was Private Valtar Whyte. The manager handed the phone to Skyler. “Honey, please join me in Roswell,” requested Whyte impatiently. “Bring Flynn. It will all make sense, once you get here. Pack light.”

“Roswell?”

“Yes, dear. It’s a hotspot.”

* * * * *

Skyler drove her fifteen-year-old son Flynn directly to Roswell. The penthouse suite atop the Alien Inn & Hotel looked like a giant silver hubcap-shaped flying saucer, a perfect disguise for the time traveling Legion shuttle. The 360-degree view of greater Roswell was fantastic, especially as the sun set. I met Skyler and her son, accompanied by her husband, Private Whyte, Corporal Tonelli, Corporal Wayne, and Medic Ceausescu. Meeting Corporal Wayne had the desired unsettling affect.

“What the fuck?” asked Flynn, poking the big spider legionnaire to see if he was real. “Are we being abducted by aliens?”

“Watch your language,” admonished Skyler, nervously pulling her son away. “Never drop the F-bomb while making first contact with alien monsters armed to the teeth, or fangs, or whatever. Get away from it!”

“It’s okay,” said Private Whyte, comforting his wife with a hug and kiss. “Corporal Wayne swears much worse. He’s basically harmless.”

“Poke me again, human pestilence, and you will lose that digit,” threatened Corporal Wayne, waving a large jagged combat knife. “Do I make myself clear, you gimpy meat-sack?”

“This is why you disappear for days at a time?” asked Skyler, punching Whyte. “You were abducted by aliens and a government conspiracy?”

“I know it’s hard to fathom, but I enlisted into the military,” explained Whyte, modeling his black Legion uniform and weapons with an awkward pirouette. “I have to go back to the future with Colonel Czerinski. I want you, I want my family to join me.”

“Even if I believed you, I can’t just leave my home and everything I know.”

“Your husband had cancer,” I interrupted, shaking Skyler’s hand. “I’m Colonel Czerinski. Our doctors cured the cancer. It was a simple process. They can cure your son’s cerebral palsy, too. Fountain of Youth microchips can restore your youth, adding two hundred years of life. Even your breasts will be perky again.”

“Why, Walter?” asked Skyler, annoyed as she tried to adjust herself. “What’s the catch? What’s in it for you?”

“Your husband helped us kill the Grim Reaper. This is a favor for being a Hero of the Legion.”

“Way to go, Dad!” shouted Flynn, giving a high-five slap. “What’s a Grim Reaper?”

“I’ll show you a helmet camera video if you want,” I offered. “Actually Private Pink did it.”

“The Grim Reaper got whacked,” added Corporal Tonelli. “Good deeds create a lot of goodwill.”

“Did you say I won’t need these crutches anymore?” asked Flynn enthusiastically. “I’m going with them.”

“You will run like the wind,” I promised. “Guaranteed. Even play football. A big strapping young man like yourself might be interested in joining America’s Galactic Foreign Legion. All you need is one parent’s signature.”

“Really?”

“The Legion has a great medical plan. No more Obamacare.”

“Flynn is not running off to war,” protested Skyler. “He will attend junior college right here in New Mexico.”

“I’ve leaving for space to fight evil aliens,” argued Flynn. “You can’t stop me. Dad, tell her!”

“Honey, this is a tremendous opportunity for us all,” pleaded Whyte, taking Skyler’s hand. “Please, dear. Look up into the mystical dry night air at the perfect silence of the stars. Cross those stars with me, sweetheart, hand in hand.”

“Walt, you’re so full of bullshit.”

“I can make all our dreams come true.”

For the first time Skyler noticed her husband seemed younger, stronger, more confident. Could it be true? “I can really be young again? I can have perky boobs?”

“Yes, my love.”

“Can I say goodbye to my sister?”

“No,” I answered. “You leave now, or never.”

“I’ll do it!”

“Then it’s settled,” I said, nodding to the medic. “Administer their shots.”

Medic Ceausescu used an air compression hypo to inject Fountain of Youth microchips into Skyler and Flynn. “After a good night’s sleep, you both will literally be new people,” she advised. “You will like New Colorado. It’s hotter than Hell, but it’s a dry heat.”

“Blast off,” I ordered. “It’s time!”

As shuttle engines activated, family attorney Saul Goodman burst through the door, making a beeline for Skyler. “Sorry for the delay, I got caught in traffic. Obviously there is much need for representation going on here. I don’t believe you’ve been interrogating my clients before I got here. Don’t say another word to the feds!”