America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 2: Reenlistment (20 page)

“He is not my buddy.”

“What’s the deal with you two?” asked Private
Adams. “Lopez asked if you had prior experience. Then he accused
you of lying when you said no. What gives? Spill it.”

“He was just messing with us because we are
spiders,” explained Private Wayne. “That is all there is to
it.”

* * * * *

The Legion was tasked with escorting oil
rigs, supply trucks, and mining equipment traveling north between
Finisterra and the Arctic Circle. Bandits and insurgents were
becoming more active along the North Highway.

Lieutenant Lopez and Sergeant Green took
about a dozen legionnaires north in the armored car. Lieutenant
Lopez doubted there would be any trouble, but the long trip would
give him time to train and evaluate the new recruits.

Private Wayne rode on top with Private Brown.
Mud splattered the bottom half of the armored car as it splashed
along. Private Wayne expected he would be told to wash the armored
car again tonight. His anger simmered with each muddy splash. It
was cold riding on top, but Privates Brown and Wayne could not
stand the smell of the human pestilence down below. The fresh air
was a pleasant relief.

A drone watched over them from above.
Lieutenant Lopez monitored its video images. About a half mile
ahead a tree lay across the road. Lieutenant Lopez ordered the
legionnaires to get ready and to be alert. The armored car sped
ahead of the column to check for possible ambush. As they
approached the fallen tree, the armored car struck a mine.

Private Washington lost steering and crashed
the armored car into the ditch. Sergeant Green fired the machine
gun into the woods to cover the legionnaires as they poured out the
back of the armored car. Several were suffering from shock and the
concussive effects of the blast. Privates Brown and Wayne jumped
off separate sides of the armored car and took cover in the
trees.

An insurgent sniper killed the first
legionnaire out of the armored car. Private Adams never knew what
hit him. Private Wayne quickly located the sniper up in a tree and
killed him with a burst from his assault rifle. The spider swung
back and forth from a rope attached to his leg. Private Wayne
watched for movement, then saw a second sniper. Reflection from the
glass of the insurgent’s rifle scope gave him away. Private Wayne
shot him, too. A third sniper fired at the armored car. Lieutenant
Lopez, using sniper directional locating scanners, blew the sniper
out of a tree with the cannon. The tree fell, too. Two remaining
spider insurgents retreated.

Spot quickly picked up their scent, leading
Corporal Tonelli and Private Wayne on a chase. The dragon killed
one of the insurgents about two miles into the forest as the spider
jogged along a game trail. The remaining insurgent got away. He hid
his scent by walking in the water of a shallow stream.

“You have killed before,” Tonelli said to
Wayne as they walked back to the column. “Were you in the
Arthropodan army?”

“No offense, but my enlistment contract
guarantees that I do not have to talk about my past,” replied
Private Wayne. “It’s part of an all encompassing amnesty that all
legionnaires get.”

“Or maybe you were an insurgent?” prodded
Tonelli. “That enlistment contract is only good if you were
completely truthful in your disclosure. If you want to survive out
here, we have to be able to trust each other.”

“Trust that I know my business when it comes
to killing,” said Private Wayne. “Trust that will have to be good
enough.”

“It’s good enough for me,” advised Tonelli.
“But good luck with Lieutenant Lopez and Sergeant Green. If you try
that enlistment contract crap on them out here, you won’t be coming
back. They’ll gut you if they think you are not loyal.”

“I am loyal,” said Private Wayne, realizing
for the first time that he felt good about joining the Legion. He
liked having structure back in his life. He thrived on the rush of
surviving combat, and the camaraderie of his fellows, even if they
were just human pestilence. They walked back to the column in
silence. The armored car was already hooked up to a truck to be
towed the rest of the way. Its front axle was broken.

Lieutenant Lopez looked closely at Private
Wayne as Corporal Tonelli reported the killing of the insurgent by
Spot. Wayne said nothing.

“Did you dye your exoskeleton?” asked
Sergeant Green.

“It is stained, not dyed,” said Private
Wayne. “There is a difference.”

“Whatever,” said Sergeant Green. “Don’t be a
smart ass. What was the original color?”

“I think it was reddish brown,” replied
Private Wayne, admiring his new shiny black. “It’s been so long, I
can’t remember for sure, nor do I care.”

“Have you ever used green dye?” asked Private
Washington, also staring at Private Wayne.

“No,” answered Private Wayne. “I don’t like
Greens. They are a bunch of money grubbers.”

“Screw you,” said Private Washington.

“That was some good shooting,” commented
Sergeant Green. “You must have good eyesight to pick out those
snipers like you did. I want you to stay close to me.”

“I prefer not to,” said Private Wayne, as he
hitched a ride on one of the trucks. “It is not healthy to hang
around officers or sergeants. They make such good targets for
snipers.”

“Smart-ass spider,” said Sergeant Green.
“I’ll be watching you.”

“One more thing, Wayne,” said Lieutenant
Lopez. “I’m promoting you to corporal. That will teach you to run
your mouth. You make sure we don’t lose any more legionnaires, or
it will be your ass.”

* * * * *

Lieutenant Lopez watched the video monitor.
Eight humans and two spiders loitered around a truck parked along
the North Highway. One of the humans was talking on a radio. The
human directed most of his men to hide in the forest. Then he
lifted the hood of his truck up and pretended to be checking the
engine.

“What do you make of that?” asked Lieutenant
Lopez. “Bandits?”

“It looks like it,” said Sergeant Green. “A
lookout must have just reported our approach. These bandits lie in
ambush and wait for good Samaritans like us to help them.”

“It warms my heart to see that spider/human
racial harmony has progressed to the point that the two species can
work together so closely to rob convoys,” said Lieutenant Lopez.
“It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

As the drone continued its surveillance,
Lieutenant Lopez contacted the T. Roosevelt and ordered an air
strike. The T. Roosevelt patched into their video network.
Corporals Tonelli and Wayne slipped into the woods with the dragon
to locate the lookout. Spot immediately picked up the scent. The
column continued towards the ambush.

The bandit leader glanced up from under the
hood, expecting to see the convoy any second. He could hear an
annoying humming of the drone up above, but dismissed the sound as
just ringing in his ears. Forest on both sides of the truck
exploded in flames. The bandit leader dove for the ditch as a bomb
hit the truck. The T. Roosevelt Weapons Platform once again did its
work to perfection. The convoy quickly came into view and
legionnaires easily captured the bandit leader. Two more bandits
were dragged from the woods. The rest were dead. All three were
bound with their hands behind their backs. Tonelli and Wayne
arrived a few minutes later. Spot was still chewing on a femur bone
from the lookout.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself
before execution?” asked Lieutenant Lopez, confronting the bandit
leader.

“I have Constitutional rights,” replied the
bandit leader. “You can’t do this. I demand a fair trial.”

“We operate under Colonial Law,” advised
Lieutenant Lopez. “You will be executed for being an undesirable on
New Colorado. Do you have anything more to say?”

“My truck held an oil rig worker we hoped to
ransom,” said the bandit leader. “You killed him. His blood is on
your hands.”

Lieutenant Lopez shot the bandit leader in
the head. “I’ll get over it,” he replied. A second bandit broke
free and ran for the trees. Lieutenant Lopez shot him, too. Then he
turned his attention to the last bandit.

“Please don’t kill me,” pleaded the bandit.
“I’m only fifteen years old.”

“Not good enough,” said Lieutenant Lopez, as
he aimed his pistol. “I don’t care about your age. You’re a cancer
that needs to be cut out.”

“Let me join the Legion,” pleaded the bandit.
“You allow all sorts into the Legion. How many of you have
questionable pasts? Let me join, too.”

“We do not allow scum like you to enlist,”
said Corporal Wayne, knife drawn as he stepped forward. “I will
slit his throat quickly. He will feel minimal pain.”

“What are you doing?” asked Tonelli. “Leave
the kid alone! It’s not necessary to execute him”

“The feel of my knife cutting through the
soft skin of human pestilence pleases me,” admitted Corporal Wayne
as he grabbed the bandit by the hair. “Hold still and die
honorably.”

“Please!” screamed the bandit, turning back
to Lieutenant Lopez. “My brother was in the Legion! He was even in
First Division. Let me enlist!”

“Don’t lie to me, or you will die slowly,”
said Lieutenant Lopez “What was your brother’s name?”

“Sergeant Hans Krueger,” replied the young
bandit. “Did you know him?”

Lieutenant Lopez holstered his pistol. He
stared at the bandit, their faces inches apart. “I see the
resemblance,” he said. “Except Sergeant Krueger was a killer. You,
however, are worthless to the Legion.”

“I can learn,” said young Krueger. “I have
always wanted to join the Legion. I won’t let you down.”

“We are one recruit down,” advised Sergeant
Green. “Let him enlist. He’ll probably get himself killed anyway,
but who knows? He might work out.”

“Release him,” ordered Lieutenant Lopez.
“Give him Private Adams’ equipment, web gear, flack jacket, and
extra uniform.”

“You got lucky,” said Corporal Wayne,
releasing Krueger with a shove. “But your luck won’t last forever.
I’ll be watching you.”

“Corporal Wayne,” said Lieutenant Lopez.
“Private Krueger is your responsibility. Teach Krueger what he
needs to know to survive.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Private Krueger. In his
excitement, he stumbled and stepped on Spot’s tail. The dragon
lunged. The Legion almost lost its newest recruit, but Tonelli
pulled the dragon back just inches from Private Krueger’s face.

“Watch where you step, you dumb-ass newbie,”
yelled Tonelli. “You won’t last a week.”

“Keep that dragon away from Krueger,” ordered
Lieutenant Lopez. “I don’t want that dragon anywhere near Krueger.
Understand?”

“Whatever,” said Tonelli. “It won’t save him.
The kid can’t walk and chew gum at the same time.”

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CHAPTER 16

Camp Alaska was the crossroads for deployment
of oil drilling equipment and mining equipment for the entire
Arctic region. Its streets were muddy when not frozen. Houses were
prefabricated and temporary. No one noticed another column of oil
rigs escorted by legionnaires when they arrived in town.

Lieutenant Lopez ordered the armored car
dropped off in front of a truck repair shop. “I am giving everyone
two days off,” he said. “Sergeant Green and I will be staying with
the armored car. All of you are expected to report in at 0900 and
1700 every day. Report late, and I will hunt you down and put you
on guard duty for the duration of our stay in Camp Alaska. Stay in
groups of at least four so you don’t get mugged. Dismissed!”

Wayne, Tonelli, Camacho, and Krueger easily
found the North Slope Tavern. Oil rig workers and miners packed the
bar. Workers gave Spot a wide berth as Tonelli led the dragon
inside.

“Give me whiskey,” said Private Krueger,
slapping money on the bar. “Leave the bottle!”

“Son, you are too young to drink here,”
advised the bartender. “You have to go.”

“I’m in the Legion,” replied Private Krueger.
“Can’t you see my uniform? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You are the shortest legionnaire I have ever
seen,” said the bartender. “What are you, about twelve years
old?”

Private Krueger reached in his pouch and
pulled out a grenade, setting it on the counter. “Are you going to
serve me, or am I going to have to get angry?”

“You better keep an eye on your boy,” Tonelli
said to Wayne. “Did you see that? He has a grenade.”

“So? We all have grenades,” said Corporal
Wayne. “Krueger can take care of himself. Now give me some room and
don’t bother me with the little stuff.”

“Hear that?” said Private Camacho. “You are
cramping Wayne’s style.”

“No one asked for your opinion,” said
Tonelli.

“Lighten up,” said Private Camacho, eyeing
some female oil rig workers sitting at the next table. “I’m going
to go talk to those babes. Be my wingman.”

Tonelli followed Camacho to the ladies’
table. To Tonelli they seemed ugly. Camacho offered to buy a round
of drinks and asked if he could join them.

One of the female oil rig workers, who was
very drunk, sized up the two legionnaires and then turned her
attention to Spot. “What a darling lizard,” she gushed, reaching
out to pet the dragon on the snout.

With lightning speed Spot snapped off two of
her fingers. The oil rig worker pulled back, screaming, with blood
squirting everywhere. One of the ladies drew a pistol, intending to
shoot the dragon. Camacho wrestled the pistol from her, knocking
the table over. Another lady pulled out a switchblade knife. By now
the commotion had attracted the attention of other oil rig workers.
They came to the aid of their ladies. Krueger stood in the middle
of the confrontation, waving his grenade and warning everyone to
stand back.