America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 5: Insurgency (11 page)

* * * * *

“A small battle took place at the Miranda
homestead,” announced the spider commander. “We burned out the
human pestilence from that place a long time ago. I mention this
skirmish between the Legion and insurgents because of its location,
well north of the DMZ.”

“Is that really a problem?” asked the spider
Governor of the North Territory. “We have signed a cooperation
agreement with the United States Galactic Federation against
terrorism. We have agreed to a proactive approach to the terrorist
problem. The human pestilence Legion is acting well within the
parameters of the treaty.”

“The Legion is not supposed to cross north of
the DMZ unless they have received permission, or are in hot pursuit
of bandits. Neither was the case.”

“I don’t see that as a big problem, as long
as they kill terrorists,” said the governor.

“The integrity of our borders is just as
important as our mutual interest in fighting the insurgency,”
insisted the spider commander. “The human pestilence are
establishing a dangerous precedent. It’s what they do.”

“Fine,” said the governor. “I will talk to
General Kalipetsis about the matter of mutual respect of our
border. In the meantime, do not start any new wars over lines drawn
in the worthless sand.”

“You so easily minimize the need to secure
our borders?” asked the spider commander. “Territorial imperative
is ingrained in our DNA and culture. It defines us as a species and
as an Empire.”

“And to think I thought you were just being
arbitrarily anal,” replied the governor. “The Emperor ordered that
we use restraint along the border with the human pestilence and the
Legion. Obedience to the Emperor is ingrained, too. Remember that.
Flexibility is the key to dealings with the human pestilence. If
the Legion is allowed to chase insurgents north of the DMZ, they
cannot object when we do the same to the south. Which reminds me.
What have you done recently to fight terrorism? I want this Desert
Claw renegade eradicated before the Emperor’s visit. It’s an
embarrassment that the insurgency keeps blowing up post offices and
cell towers. My phone never has more than two bars! Can you hear me
now?”

“We are actively hunting Desert Claw,”
insisted the spider commander defensively. “But it is most
difficult when the terrorists strike only soft targets. They only
hit at a time and place of their own choosing.”

“In a showing of good faith and in the spirit
of cooperation, the Legion killed the Most-Wanted terrorist David
Torres and delivered his body to us,” said the governor. “We shall
strive to repay that favor by killing Desert Claw and stringing his
body up a flag pole.”

“There is another problem,” advised the
spider commander. “There are reports that the Fist and Claw are
joining forces with Mafioso types in the trafficking of blue
powder. Do you have the political will to move against the New
Memphis crime syndicates?”

“That is a galactic issue that stretches from
Arthropoda to Earth,” admitted the governor, sighing. “But, we will
do our part. I authorize whatever force is needed to prevent or to
root out narco-insurgents. When I talk to General Kalipetsis, I
will suggest a joint task force to deal with New Memphis issues.
Hopefully it is not too late.”

* * * * *

The spider Governor of the North Territory
and General Kalipetsis sat down with their respective staff
officers at a conference table at the New Gobi City Walmart to
discuss the growing insurgency. Captain Lopez and I sat in on the
discussions because we were the hosts and the providers of
refreshments (vodka). For grins, I let Marine Lieutenant Valerie
Smith, retired (deceased) sit in on the meeting. Again, I was the
only one who could see and hear her.

“My plan calls for a joint Legion and
Imperial marine sweep of New Memphis to arrest or kill every
Italian in the city,” announced the spider governor. “Together we
can rid New Colorado of the Mafia menace forever.”

“I see a few problems in your plan,” replied
General Kalipetsis. “New Memphis has rebuilt itself from the
devastation of war to become the jewel of the New Mississippi
River. Being an open port city jointly administrated by the United
States Galactic Federation and the Arthropodan Empire, New Memphis
is an excellent example of what cooperation can achieve. Soon the
entire riverfront will be lined with new casino resort hotels and
swimming pools. I will not jeopardize this stunning success story
with a reckless and unnecessary military attack.”

“But the Mob runs the whole city,” argued the
spider commander, before the governor could object to the general’s
denial. “Who do you think financed those casinos?”

“The key to controlling gambling enterprises
is to regulate and to incorporate the casinos,” said General
Kalipetsis. “Destroying the casinos merely harms commerce.”

“But what about the Italians?” insisted the
spider commander. “They are linking up with terrorists and forming
a narco-insurgency. They are becoming increasingly ruthless.
Victims have been whacked as far away as Arthropoda itself.”

“Whacked?” asked General Kalipetsis. “You are
overreacting. We cannot just arrest every Italian in New Memphis.
Only a very small number of Italian-Americans are Mafioso. It would
be illegal and immoral to violate the constitutional rights of so
many innocents.”

“We can do it,” said the spider commander.
“Between the two of us, we have more than enough troops.”

“Our legal system does not allow such a
ruthless purge of the population,” explained General Kalipetsis.
“Besides, Mafioso henchmen come in all shapes, colors, races,
nationalities, religions, and species. The Legion even caught an
Australian contract hit man from Old Earth last month, right here
in New Gobi City.”

“Maybe we can work out a compromise,”
suggested the spider governor. “The New Memphis Sheriff is
overwhelmed by the enormity of the Mafia problem. Perhaps a smaller
joint Legion/Imperial task force can make surgical strikes against
Mafia assets. Did the Legion not drop a bomb from space recently on
a New Memphis office building full of Mafia bookies?”

“That matter is still under investigation,”
said General Kalipetsis. “A local commander might have acted
rashly. Colonel Czerinski, what do you think? Are surgical strikes
in New Memphis feasible?”

“I thought the commander’s suggestion about
wiping out all the Italians was a good idea,” I said, hoping to
needle General Kalipetsis a bit. “It would send a strong
message.”

“But I’m part Italian,” replied General
Kalipetsis. “Blood lines are too mixed up in the American melting
pot. It would not work.”

“I thought you were Greek,” I said.

“He’s a baptized Arab,” whispered Captain
Lopez. “I don’t know how he was even allowed off Earth.”

“Italy is just a stone’s throw across the
Adriatic Sea from Greece via New York City and Utah,” advised
General Kalipetsis. “Italians and Greeks probably came across the
Atlantic in the same boats, and went West in the same wagon trains
from St. Louis.”

“What is he talking about?” asked the spider
commander, suspicious. “Is he really Italian? Tell me it is not
true.”

“Now, see here,” said General Kalipetsis. “We
cannot intern a large segment of an American city just because you
can’t catch a few insurgents blowing up your post offices. How
would you like it if I suggested we round up all your Green spiders
just because we suspect them of banker’s fraud or currency
manipulation? How would you like that?”

“I would say good riddance to the
money-grubbing Greens,” said the spider commander. “But that is a
final solution for another day. We need to stay focused on the
current problem of a growing Mafia financed narco-insurgency in our
midst.”

“I can have the New Memphis Sheriff make a
list of known Mafia associates,” I suggested, feeling it was time
to conclude this quibbling. “Then a joint military task force can
make arrests under State of Emergency powers ordered by the
American Governor – that’s General Kalipetsis – and you, the spider
Governor of the North Territory. Can we all agree on that?”

“I like it,” said the spider governor. “It is
a simple plan that would not interrupt the upcoming tourist season.
I say do it.”

“Which reminds me,” said General Kalipetsis,
“are you all going to the grand opening of Harrah’s Hotel and
Casino Resort’s first casino in New Memphis? I got some great
casino comps in the mail.”

“Me too,” said the spider governor. “Great
idea. I’ll see to it both our staff entourages are comped as
well.”

“New Memphis sounds a lot like Vegas, baby!”
exclaimed Valerie, standing invisibly beside me. “Are we going to
party in New Memphis? Wait until you see me in heels!”

“You better believe we are going to party,” I
said. “We’re going to party big-time.”

I drew a few stares, but most of my staff
were getting used to it. I figured talking to myself would keep
those around me on edge, wondering whether it would be safe to
ruffle my feathers. Being crazy – or perceived as crazy – has its
advantages.

* * * * *

There were three districts in New Memphis.
First was the busy port district, where all oil and gold from the
North was shipped through New Memphis to the New Mississippi River.
Second was the downtown district with all the casino-hotel resorts.
Casino towers and their bright lights dominated the river skyline.
Third, past downtown was a vast residential district. Elvis
Boulevard looped in a large circle through all three districts.
Tonight all I cared about was the casino district.

I was comped a suite at Harrah’s Hotel Resort
Casino. Valerie loved the luxury of it all. Harrah’s always did pay
attention to detail, from a solitary rose set by my bed and candy
on my pillow, to the crossed gold-tipped elephant tusks mounted in
front of my room’s large plate-glass window overlooking the river.
Harrah’s remembered my obnoxious demand for gold-tipped elephant
tusks years ago when I first joined the Legion back on Mars.

I slipped into the standup hot tub to enjoy a
delightful evening with Valerie.
Good times.
She seemed so
real. Much later, downstairs, I played blackjack. Valerie followed
me down. She even seemed content.

“Do you like my heels?” asked Valerie. “Do
you think I look sexy?”

“The heels are great,” I said. “But blackjack
is serious business. You are a distraction. I’m trying to count
cards.”

“Little old me a distraction?” said Valerie,
caressing my neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps you could put some clothes on,” I
suggested.

“You didn’t complain before, in our suite,”
cooed Valerie. “I’m still wearing my heels just like you wanted.
Besides, it’s not like anyone can see me.”

“There is a time and place for naked bodies,”
I said. “But now, I’m trying to win money.”

“You don’t seem to be very good at it,”
Valerie observed with a laugh. “I can see the dealer’s cards as
they are dealt. Might that be helpful information to you,
sweetie?”

“Very,” I said, as I drew another bust card.
“Are you serious?”

“The dealer holds a six under that queen up,”
said Valerie, observing the next hand.

I doubled down on my soft seventeen, drew a
nine, and let the dealer bust with an eight. It went that way all
night long. I made tens of thousands of dollars before casino
security told me to leave the card tables.

I cashed in my chips, filling a backpack with
$750,000. Then I wandered over to the craps table. It can be a bit
disconcerting having a beautiful naked lady in heels hanging on
your arm while playing craps, but I had a few drinks and was
getting into it. Suddenly Valerie pinched my arm.

“Watch your back!” warned Valerie, agitated,
and now fully clothed in old-school USMC combat fatigues. She kept
her heels.

I turned around and was confronted by a short
but wiry spider flanked by two larger spiders. All wore wraparound
sunglasses on their smug faces. It was Desert Claw. I reached for
my concealed pistol.

“Welcome to New Memphis,” said Desert Claw.
“Do not go for your gun. You won’t stand a chance against my
henchmen.”

“Henchmen?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Desert Claw. “Now that I am a
respected drug dealer, I have henchmen instead of terrorists.”

“You are a leader of narco-insurgency
terrorists,” I accused. “Nothing has changed.”

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about,”
said Desert Claw. “How about a truce? I will stop planting roadside
bombs and blowing up government buildings if the Legion backs off a
bit. I could even put you on the payroll if you think we can do
business.”

“No way. I hate drug dealers almost as much
as I do terrorists.”

“Think of me as an undocumented pharmacist. I
am just filling a public need. I’m just trying to be
reasonable.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “I would like
to see a truce last at least six months. We can go forward from
there, if it lasts. How do I know you will keep the truce?”

“Ever since you killed David Torres, the
human pestilence side of the insurgency has fallen apart,”
explained Desert Claw. “Quite frankly, the money in peddling blue
powder is so good, I have lost interest in bush fighting. The
insurgency is for schmucks.”

“You are ending the insurgency?” I asked. “I
doubt that.”

“Oh, I am sure there will be a few die-hards
who will fight on,” said Desert Claw. “To show my good faith, I
will tip you off from time to time on their location and plans.
That will make you look good. I see general’s stars in your
future.”

“I’ll have Captain Lopez coordinate that with
you,” I said. “I think maybe we can do business after all.”