Lieutenant Columbus (15 page)

“Good luck with that.”

“Do not disrespect me,” admonished the
g
overnor. “I’ll have you guarding oil rigs at the North Pole!”

“Continued human pestilence provocations are not my fault. It was not my marines that flattened Walmart with tanks.”

“It is your job to make sure local incidents stay local. I don’t give a lizard’s ass about Walmart. There is another matter I want you to look into. That Legion armor flown in on shuttles cannot be explained.”

“Sir?”

“Usually when Legion transport ships beam from Old Earth and Mars, we can track their movement. These latest transports just miraculously appeared out of nowhere at the South Pole. Find out how the human pestilence did that.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

Sic Military Intelligence on it. Abduct legionnaires for interrogation. I don’t care how you get the information, just do it!”

* * * * *

“You’re here not more than thirty minutes, and already you start a war?” I shouted. “As if I don’t get enough bad press!”

“Sir, the video recording exonerates me of any wrong doing,” argued Lieutenant Patton. “How was I to know you have been cozying up to those scurvy spiders and sharing our Walmart Super Store? That sort of appeasement is un-American and weakens galactic resolve against spider aggression.”

“That video has an ATM’s guilty fingerprints all over it,” I commented suspiciously. “How did you manage that?”

“ATMs don’t leave fingerprints. Don’t worry about the press. I’ve dealt with them before. Those limp-dicked pansies can go to Hell.”

“You can’t just shoot spiders on sight,” I insisted. “It’s incredible the Legion allowed you
to
command tanks.”

“Sir, may I speak frankly? We need to clean out that spider nest over there while we have the firepower to do it. If we don’t, those bug savages will swarm across the border
,
raping, eating, and pillaging.”

“I don’t like the spiders much either, but we are at truce, and technically the Arthropodan Empire is an ally. We are here to keep the peace, not start wars! Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you sure you understand?”

“I am but a simple soldier, doing my duty. I understand history tragically repeats itself.”

“Don’t shoot any
more spiders!”

“Yes, sir.”

* * * * *

Mountain
Claw, spider bandit extraordinaire, plotted his next robbery. The bank heist would be a piece of cake. Mountain
Claw and his henchmen spiders would hit the First Colonial Bank of New Gobi City when it opened, then race back across the border to safety. What could go wrong?

When the bank opened,
Mountain Claw
entered, along with other customers. He wore a hoodie covering his face to defeat the video cameras. Two henchmen loitered nervously in the lobby by the door.
Mountain Claw
stood patiently in line at the teller
’
s cage.

Stepping up to the cage,
Mountain Claw passed a note, written on the backside of a Skittles candy wrapper:
‘
This is a robbery. I have a gun and will use it. Fill the bag with large bills only.
’

“Oh my!” exclaimed the bank teller. “Please don’t shoot!”

“Not so loud. Come on, show me the money.”

“Show me the gun.”

“What?”

“It’s bank policy to require all robbers to prove they have a gun,” insisted the nervous bank teller. “Sorry, it’s a legal thing put in by the lawyers
to
thwart the homeless and mentally ill.”

“I am serious. Human pestilence will get hurt if you don’t give me the money.”

“You didn’t even bring a bag,” replied the bank teller, more confident. “I’ll bet you don’t even have a gun.”

Mountain Claw
motioned to one of his henchmen by the door. A twitchy spider came over.
“Yeah
,
boss? What’s up? We need to get out of here.”

Mountain Claw
took Twitchy’s backpack and tossed it on the counter. “Here! Fill this with cash!”

“You still haven’t showed me your gun.”

“Hey, no cutting the line!” interrupted a fat lady at the back of the line. “I’m sick and tired of you rude
,
inconsiderate spiders always pushing ahead of everyone in line on welfare day.”

Others agreed and started jostling for position.

“Shut up!” shouted
Mountain Claw
, pounding the counter. “Give me my money!”

“It’s not
your
money,” argued the bank teller. “Sir, I don’t like your tone. I’m calling the Sheriff.”
The bank alarm sounded.

Mountain Claw
pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it at the bank teller. Startled, she slammed the teller window shut, knocking the grenade back at
Mountain Claw
. The grenade bounced off the highly waxed floor and skidded to a spinning stop in the middle of the lobby.
Mountain Claw
jumped over the counter as the grenade exploded, leaving mayhem and body parts behind.
Scratch one henchman and several human pestilence fat ladies.
The gore was awful.

Mountain Claw
tore the drawer open, filling the backpack with cash. He grabbed the bank teller for a human pestilence shield, and raced outside amid a hail of gunfire from sheriff’s deputies.
What was left of t
he gang fled to the border, escaping on motorcycles.

* * * * *

Through binoculars, Lieutenant Patton observed the fleeing spider bikers chased by sheriff’s cars. The bikes crashed through the checkpoint gate at the border. From atop the rise east of town, he had a perfect view. As Patton listened
to
the radio reports about the terrorist strike on the bank, he made a command decision.
“Target those bikers!”

Artillery rained down on
Mountain Claw
’s gang as they raced down the back streets toward their safe house and tunnels. There was collateral damage, but
that was
expected. The safe house went up in flames, as did the Taco Bell next to it. Lieutenant Patton could smell beef burritos on the wind, reminding him of his native California.
But he dismissed the nostalgic moment. “
There is no going home for this old soldier. My
destiny is yet to be fulfilled.”

Mountain Claw
changed directions, heading out of town toward the hills. Legion tanks followed, guided by a drone in the air. After crashing the border fence, Patton led his men on a shortcut through the spiders’ new
f
ive
-s
tar golf course and country club. Soon they were deep into Arthropodan territory, chasing bike dust over the next hill.

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Chapter 1
4

Already
,
the spider commander was complaining and threatening a retaliatory strike. I called Lieutenant Patton on the radio.
“You are relieved of command,” I ordered. “Withdraw immediately!”

“I am in hot pursuit of bandits and terrorists, as allowed by treaty,” advised Lieutenant Patton. “Just keep those spider marines off my back and
,
with luck
,
I will have them.”

“No! Get back here!”

“Sir, the terrorists took a human female hostage. Who knows what deprivations they intend? It is our duty to protect American citizens, and to effect a rescue. Can you provide air cover?”

“No! I will be meeting with the spider commander shortly to sort this out. Half of New Gobi City is burning. Don’t blow up anything
else
.”

“One greasy Taco Bell? No big deal. I did the spiders a favor. I’ll bet the McDonald’s people are already applauding.”

“Taco Bell is an American corporation. But more important, you are trespassing on Arthropodan soil. The spiders go crazy about trespassing. It’s ingrained in their DNA.”

“Show them the treaty,” repeated Lieutenant Patton. “Hot pursuit of criminals is allowed, and even common.”

“Not with tanks and artillery fire!”

“Tanks are my good luck charm. A soldier is born with only so much luck, and my reservoir is running dry. If you’re going to fight a war, bring the proper tools to win.”

“We are not at war.”

“Call it a punitive expedition.”

“Fine! Proceed with caution into the hills.
”
How much harm can
he
do up there?
I told myself. “
But prepare an exit strategy for when your mission is over. I promise that will be soon!”

“Yes, sir.”

* * * * *

I met the spider commander for lunch at McDonald’s. The restaurant was in a festive mood, with pi
ñ
atas adorning the ceiling. Chipotle burritos and tacos were being given away for free with each ten
-
dollar order.

“I hate Mexican food,” complained the spider commander, sipping on his Starbucks. “And this coffee is too hot!”

“Would you like
some
cheese to go with your w
h
ine?” I asked.

“Not if it’s American cheese,” answered the spider commander, still complaining
as he ignored my obvious pun
. “A magistrate has issued warrants for Lieutenant Patton’s arrest. If you order your miscreant subordinate to surrender now, I will spare the legionnaires under him.”

“Patton is pursuing bandits
,
per treaty,” I announced. “If you menace Patton or his legionnaires in any manner, it will be an act of war, and I will personally hold you accountable.”

“Do not threaten me.”

“Spider bandits robbed the First Colonial Bank and fled across the border with a hostage. What are you going to do about that?”

“I saw the video. It’s just
Mountain Claw
. He can be killed anytime.”

“Then just do it. What have you been waiting for?”

“In my own time.
Mountain Claw
hasn’t been anything but a petty nuisance until now. I cannot have your legionnaires running amuck
,
trespassing and shelling New Gobi City!”

“Sorry about Taco Bell.”

“It’s okay. KFC has expressed an interest in the property, and I am inclined to sign off on their business permit. I love chicken.”

“Lieutenant Patton chased
Mountain Claw
into the hills northeast of town. If he kills
Mountain Claw
, fine. If not, he withdraws. Damage is contained to the hills, so it’s a win-win situation for both of us. The media will report spiders and humanity working together to fight crime along the border. Everyone will be a happy camper.”

“As long as Patton and you human pestilence do not intend to camp too long.”

* * * * *

The tanks traveled up the hills along
a
wind
ing
dirt road
with
a deep ravine to one side. The lead tank, commanded by Sergeant Rubin Rivers, scouted for mines as it approached a roadblock of fallen trees. The first RPG glanced o
f
f the sloped turret, exploding harmlessly down the canyon. More followed, as did small
-
arms fire.
Mountain Claw
’s bandits popped out of spider holes, took shots, and popped back down.

With the rest of the company providing dust-off cover fire, Sergeant Rivers jumped down from the turret. Dragging cable to the fallen trees, he tossed the hook over the top, wrapping the connection around the largest log. An RPG hit on the oth
er side, knocking Rivers flat. Slightly w
ounded by shrapnel, Rivers still pulled the cable to where it could be secured. Then he waved at the tank driver to reverse, pulling the log jam from the road. The tanks then charged up the hill as
Mountain Claw
and his bandits retreated. Lieutenant Patton’s tank roared up beside Sergeant Rivers.

“You’ll get a medal for that, sergeant! That was outstanding fighting spirit!”

“Been there, done that, sir,” replied Sergeant Rivers, limping back to his tank. “I just want to go home.”