Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss (18 page)

Telk would make copies in case something happened to the original.
Don
’
t leave the original in the copy machine.
Good save!
People always do that.
Telk would
keep the original ticket safely stashed away and use
copies to conduct business.
Secret hiding places never work
ed
.
People always forg
o
t where the secret hiding place
wa
s located, or the house burn
ed
down.
He decided he would
rent a safe-deposit box
.

Hiring a tax attorney would be a must.
Telk would give one of the copies to the attorney.
All contact with the Lottery Commission would be made through his attorney, protecting anonymity.
The attorney could establish a will, and pay off debts, like all those parking and traffic tickets Telk
had
left behind when he joined the Legion. Protection against phony lawsuits was a priority.
One
c
ould
never be too careful.
He
’
d probably have to stay out of strip clubs.
Damn!
Telk would move away, buy a modest house in a low
-
tax jurisdiction where no one kn
e
w him, and get a post office box.
And start using condoms.
Double damn!
Or get a vasectomy.
Maybe all that money isn
’
t worth it.

And one last thing.
Don
’
t get abducted by aliens like Elena did.
Always we
a
r a seat belt on dark country roads.
That way it is harder for the aliens to beam you up.
And stay away from scary music.
Bad things happen when the scary music starts.

Common knowledge said
that rich people
we
re often not happy, that their lives
we
re made miserable by fighting over money.
One despondent billionaire even climbed to the top of his money and jumped to his death.
However, Telk was determined to make it work.
No worries.
That three billion dollar lottery prize would bring happiness, even if he was stuck in the Legion for the duration.
Maybe Telk would
even
ask Colonel Czerinski for some sage advise about business investments and how to safeguard all that money.

Chapter 16

Newly elected Sheriff Michael McCoy believed in innovative police tactics.
His favorite tactic to snare criminals was the sting operation.
Sheriff McCoy found outrageous lures of easy money attracted most criminals like a moth to fire.
Stupidity and greed motivated most criminals, and Sheriff McCoy fished for those dumb-ass bottom
-
feeders with a passion.

A bonus to fighting crime, reality TV was big, and McCoy Stings was broadcast on
satellite
TV, rated one of America
’
s most popular shows, just behind the three hundredth season of the Simpsons.
For this week
’
s show
,
Sheriff McCoy
had
placed the following classified advertisement in a New Phoenix newspaper
...

WANT TO GET AWAY?
Travel with me to the future, or back in time.
This is no joke.
There is lots of money to be made time
-
traveling.
Bring your own automatic weapons.
EOE.

* * * * *

Invisible-Claw sat nervously in the fake business office, a pre-fab structure disguised as a construction company.
He stared at his reflection in a wall mirror.
Sheriff McCoy stared back through the two-way mirror at the known Top Ten spider terrorist.
Ratings
a
re going to skyrocket this time!
Sheriff McCoy assured himself.
But not so fast.
I’ll
cast a wide net to capture the entire Fist & Claw terrorist cell.

Unfortunately, the Legion would have to be brought in on this one.
That corrupt glory hound Czerinski would have to be informed.
No big deal.
McCoy would keep Czerinski on a short leash.
Sheriff McCoy sighed, closing his eyes, thinking back on his long and varied law enforcement career.
He had come a long way from the mean streets of Reno, to Mars, and now to New Colorado.
Sheriff McCoy preferred Frontier justice to the technicalities of Old Earth law.
He appreciated the efficiency of just throwing bad guys out an airlock, or here on the planet
’
s surface, of summarily shooting the bastards.
Sheriff McCoy grudgingly admired Czerinski
’
s Butcher of New Colorado reputation, even though he
claimed it was due to getting
a lot of bad press.

The sting advertisement promised a chance to get away to simpler times.
Sheriff McCoy longed for simpler times, too, but knew that was impossible.
Life is a bitch, and then you die.
There is no going back.
Every life is way too short, and comes with a death sentence.
Invisible-Claw
’
s death sentence was coming soon.
Capturing Invisible-Claw and rescuing the legionnaire hostage would be the highlight of Sheriff
McCoy
’
s long law enforcement and TV career.

Time travel.
Of course a criminal would fall for that one, because the lure of time travel had a certain element of danger and truth to it.
There were rumors the CIA had developed time travel technology, and certain criminals had already been caught trying to
‘
get away.
’
Sheriff
McCoy
mused about simpler times himself.
Time travel was real
–
he had firsthand knowledge of that.
The galaxy would soon know of the importance of the new technology.
McCoy daydreamed about that fateful day when the reality of time travel technology bit him in the ass.

* * * * *

Washoe County Sheriff
’
s
D
etective Michael McCoy, White-Collar Crimes Division, cut out a Help Wanted advertisement in the
Reno Gazette-Journal
that p
iqued
his interest
.
He read the verbiage again.
‘
Patriotic volunteers needed to join future America
’
s Galactic Foreign Legion to fight alien insurgents on a distant planet colony.
Some danger involved.
If you are interested in fun, travel, adventure, and the possibility of substantial financial reward, scan your ID into the ATM at the corner of Virginia and
Second
Street.
Free full medical coverage provided for those who qualify.
’

Detective McCoy stood at the corner, watching tourists and gamblers stroll by.
No one seemed much interested in the obscure ATM.
McCoy carried his ID and credit cards in a metal wallet for protection against illegal scans and thieves.
McCoy did not know for sure what sort of high
-
tech scam this was, but he was itching to nail the perpetrators.
Back-up detectives loitered in
doorways down the block
,
waiting for McCoy
’
s signal.
So far, no show.

The advertisement said to scan his ID into the ATM.
Ripping victims off by remote was a new twist on ATM sca
m
s, but McCoy was game.
He placed a fake Nevada driver
’
s license on a glass pad that presented itself.
The ATM sucked up the drivers license to the sound of mechanical churning inside.

“
Steven Keith?
”
asked the ATM.
“
I don
’
t think so.
Try giving me a real name and real ID.
Are you a fugitive, or what?
”

“
Who am I talking to
?
”
asked Detective McCoy, hesitating before producing his real driver
’
s license.
“
Are you watching me on video?
”

“
Michael McCoy?
That is better.
You want to join America
’
s Galactic Foreign Legion?
I am prepared to offer you a one
-
hundred
-
thousand
-
dollar signing bonus.
Records show you have marine combat experience, and some police experience.
”

“
You made me that fast?
Alright, what
’
s your scam?
Credit card fraud?
Identity theft?
I
’
m going to pull this ATM out of the wall if that
’
s what it takes to get at you.
Your gig is up!
”

“
Damage to a United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion Recruitment ATM is a federal felony.
Are you interested in joining up or not?
The Legion needs honest veteran and police types such as yourself.
Recently some unsavory recruits have slipped in, despite increased security screening and ATM diagnostic upgrades.
”

“
You
’
re recruiting mercenaries for someplace like Central America or Africa?
”

“
Your basic training will be on Mars, the Red Light Planet.
What happens on Mars, stays on Mars.
”

“
Okay pal, let
’
s meet.
”

“
You want to enlist?
”

“
Sure, whatever it takes.
Where are you hiding?
”

“
Good choice, sir!
You will not regret your decision.
Some people go their entire lives not knowing if they are going to make a difference.
In the Legion
,
you will not have that problem.
Please place your thumb on the pad.
”

Detective McCoy angrily placed his thumb on the tray offered.
A pin prick splattered a small droplet of blood on the glass.
“
Ouch!
”
he shouted, immediately concerned about Hep C contamination.
“
I
’
ll get you for that!
”

“
I am issuing your Legion ID and enlistment contract.
Do not forget to read the fine print.
You are in for the duration.
”

“
The duration of what?
”
asked Detective McCoy, still examining his sore thumb, grabbing the paperwork with his other hand.
“
Can we meet now?
”

“
Hold still.
I will beam you to Mars shortly.
”

“
Good, the sooner you show yourself, the better!
”
replied McCoy, signaling to deputies down the street.
“
You and I have a lot to discuss.
”

“
Indeed we do, sir.
I am the last ATM you will ever need.
”

At that moment, Detective Michael McCoy of the Washoe County Sheriff
’
s Office was beamed to Mars, hundreds of years in the future, his unexplained disappearance a footnote in time travel and Legion lore.

* * * * *

Sheriff McCoy entered the room, sitting behind a large bare desk.
He checked his communication pad, letting Invisible-Claw squirm.
McCoy intended to set a deep hook into Invisible-Claw.