America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 3: Silent Invasion (16 page)

“What is your location?” I asked.

“In front of the Sheriff’s Office,” replied
Lieutenant Lopez. “The spiders have cleared out.”

“Perfect,” I said. “There is a
remote-controlled nuke on the top floor of the Sheriff’s Office.
Take Tonelli and Stallone with you and disarm it.”

“Say what?” asked Lieutenant Lopez. “I’m out
of here.”

“That’s an order,” I said. “Disarm the nuke.
Here is your chance to be a hero.”

“You can get your mother to disarm the nuke,”
said Lieutenant Lopez. “I’m through being a hero of the Legion.
Been there, done that.”

“I’ll pay you twice what the spiders paid
you,” I said.

“You know about that?” asked Lieutenant
Lopez. “How long have you known?”

“Since you were putting your tag by the gate
in Camp Alaska,” I said.

“Sorry about that,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I
didn’t tell them much. I was just stringing them along to take
their money. I was being a double agent.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “If you disarm
the nuke, I’ll call us even. Otherwise, you can join your spider
friends in Finisterra.”

“Are you serious?” asked Lieutenant Lopez.
“After all we have been through together?”

“Disarm that nuke, or I’ll put you in front
of a firing squad for treason,” I threatened.

“Afraid to shoot me yourself?” asked
Lieutenant Lopez. “You don’t want to look me in the eye because you
know it would be wrong, after all the times I’ve saved your sorry
ass!”

“If it will make you happy, I will join the
firing squad,” I said. “And I’ll keep the blindfold so I can look a
traitor in the eye as he gets what he deserves.”

“Fine,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I will do it.
But we are not even. You still owe me.”

“Whatever,” I replied.

“How am I supposed to disarm a
remote-controlled nuke?” asked Lieutenant Lopez. “Do I cut the red
wire or the blue wire?”

“I would go with the blue wire,” I said. “Ask
Guido. He’s our expert on nukes.”

“That is not comforting,” argued Lieutenant
Lopez. “Guido only steals and sells nukes.”

“I’m color blind,” said Guido, overhearing
the radio conversation. “I don’t want to go.”

“Me either,” added Gotti. “I didn’t sign up
for this.”

“Are you sure about the blue wire?” asked
Lieutenant Lopez.

“You are wasting time,” I said. “Tell
everyone else to evacuate.”

Lieutenant Lopez, Guido, and Gotti went
upstairs. They found the nuke in a wooden crate on the top floor.
Lieutenant Lopez examined the nuke, looking for a remote-control
attachment that he could rip off. He saw nothing. The nuke had a
control panel, but no on/off switch. There were no exposed wires No
one brought any clippers. Lieutenant Lopez directed Guido and Gotti
to assist carrying the nuke downstairs. They put the nuke in a
Sheriff’s Office van and nailed the crate shut.

There were three spider prisoners sitting on
the sidewalk nearby. They were the tankers captured earlier.
Lieutenant Lopez cut their restraints and removed their
blindfolds.

“Usually we execute and eat our prisoners,”
announced Lieutenant Lopez, addressing the tank commander. “But a
truce has been called, and I have been ordered to repatriate all of
you. Take this van and drive it to Finisterra ASAP. If you stop for
any reason, I will call for an air strike. Do you understand?”

The spiders all nodded. Lieutenant Lopez
threw the van keys to one of the spiders and watched them drive
off.

Along the way, the driver pointed to the
crate in the back of the van. “What’s that?”

The tank commander scanned the human writing
on the crate. “It says ‘Happy Birthday, Puta.’”

“What does that mean?” asked the driver, as
they sped out of town.

“I do not know,” replied the tank commander.
“The translation device has problems with human slang. I think it
is some kind of friendly greeting. Do not worry about it. Be
careful, and keep your eyes on the road. We do not need to die in a
crash after all we just went through.”

“It’s a good thing you told me to be
careful,” said the driver. “I would have surely wrecked without
that fine piece of advice, sir.”

* * * * *

The Special Forces Commander did not want to
abandon his armored cars and tanks. He would need his armor to
defend Finisterra. As many tanks as possible were loaded on flat
haulers. If necessary, the armor would be hidden in the forest and
retrieved later.

The convoy stretched for miles. Trucks loaded
with infantry led the way. Legion drones circled high above,
targeting each vehicle. Missiles fired from helicopter gunships and
ground launchers sought out each tank, truck, and armored car. The
destruction was so complete that many spiders fled their vehicles
rather than waiting to be hit. The Special Forces Commander, riding
in a fast command car, escaped to Finisterra. Most of his command
did not.

Some legionnaires felt guilty about the
slaughter. This seemed more like murder than war, because the
killing was so easy. But they got over it. Orders were given to not
target the Sheriff’s Office van. The van got half way to Finisterra
before its nuke exploded, killing the rest of the convoy.

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Contents

Chapter 13

The spider oil rig worker liked to spend his
evenings watching videos. As he leaned back on his couch, he
thought he saw movement at the window. It was dark outside, and the
oil rig worker had to get close to the glass to see out. He pressed
his face to the glass and cupped his hands around his eyes.
Suddenly seeing two yellow eyes staring back at him, the startled
spider jumped back. The wolf smashed against the metal protective
grill recently installed on the window. It then ran away.

When the oil rig worker recovered from his
fright, he grabbed an assault rifle and ran to the front door. The
wolf was gone, but he could see the monster’s tracks in the snow.
He fired several shots into the air to make sure the wolf kept
going.

The phone rang. It was just one of his
co-workers next door who had heard the shots. After he explained
what happened, they both agreed the wolves had been coming around
more often. They were thankful for the new window grills. There
were rumors of wolves crashing through glass windows and killing
other workers just a few miles away. Their supervisor begged the
military to spray the forest with nerve agent to kill the wolves,
but the idea was turned down. Instead, poisoned meat was left out,
hanging from trees, but the wolves ignored it. A bounty on wolf
pelts was being paid, although most hunters declined the offer.

* * * * *

The wolf had been watching the isolated oil
rig workers with interest for weeks. It noticed that the humans had
cleared out, leaving only the hated spiders. The wolf often scouted
between the outbuildings at night, unchallenged. The wolf could see
the spiders through the windows, but the metal grills were too
strong to push in. The wolf had seen the spiders use the doorways,
and now tested a door. The door stood firm. The wolf sniffed the
doorknob. It had clearly seen spiders turn doorknobs before
entering. The wolf pawed at the doorknob, then gripped it between
two paws. The door easily opened. The wolf ran off to join the pack
and pass on what it had learned.

* * * * *

The oil rig worker now felt the cold chill of
a breeze as he watched TV. Somehow the Arctic air was getting
inside. Gripping his assault rifle, he checked the front door
again. The door was wide open. The oil rig worker could see more
wolf tracks in the snow. He quickly shut the door and locked it.
Then he did a quick search of his small company-built home and
locked the back door.

In the morning the oil rig worker checked on
his two co-workers. They had not answered their phones. He found
their cabin doors ajar. Blood trails led from the cabins to the
forest. His friends were missing. The oil rig worker ran to the
office to call Camp Alaska on the radio. As he sat at the desk,
speaking into the microphone, he glanced out the front window at
the snow. The oil rig worker could see his reflection in the window
pane. The last image he ever saw was the glass reflection of two
yellow eyes behind him.

* * * * *

CIA Special Agent Hobbs and several
zoologists arrived at Legion Headquarters with written orders to
establish first contact and diplomatic relations with the wolves. I
told Special Agent Hobbs he was crazy and to go away. Later, I got
a phone call from General Kalipetsis, ordering me to humor the
eggheads and to cooperate fully with the CIA. General Kalipetsis
was already upset about the nuke being set off, even though I
proved beyond any doubt that I was not responsible. He ordered me
to personally escort Special Agent Hobbs and Dr. Smith deep into
the forest to set up camp and provide protection until their
experiments were completed.

We set up camp near where the nuclear
explosion had blocked the roadway. Radiation and forest fires
prevented us from getting closer to prime wolf habitat near
Finisterra. I brought two armored cars and about twenty
legionnaires. By now I had developed a phobia of wolves. At first I
refused to even get out of the armored car at night. I told
Lieutenant Lopez to get the camp set up.

“What’s the matter, Major?” asked Lieutenant
Lopez. “El lobo makes you nervous? Or are you just afraid of the
dark?”

“I have some map work to go over on the
computer,” I explained. “I don’t like this mission. Do you remember
what the wolves did to that spider regiment south of Camp Alaska?
That was unnatural in so many ways.”

“No one knows for sure what happened,”
replied Lieutenant Lopez. “Maybe a few slow spiders got
attacked.”

“You and I listened all night to a thousand
spiders get massacred and eaten. The prisoners we captured
confirmed what happened. We saw the blood trails and abandoned
equipment.”

“The prisoners were probably lying to mask
their escape after getting lost in the woods,” argued Lieutenant
Lopez. “Don’t tell me you are buying into the eggheads’ theory that
the wolves are smart enough to coordinate military operations.”

“No, they’re wasting their time in that
regard. But those wolves are nasty critters, and this is their
element. All I’m saying is that I give them their due.”

“I’ll agree with that,” said Lieutenant
Lopez. “That’s why I’m sleeping in the armored car, too. If Hobbs
and the eggheads want to pitch tents and dance with wolves, that’s
their problem.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Sentries will be posted
in the armored car turrets. I do not want any legionnaires to be
picked off by wolf attacks. There are too many rumors about that
sort of thing lately.”

“The eggheads are setting up a perimeter of
motion detectors, video cameras, and a trap cage,” said Lieutenant
Lopez. “That should be enough for now. Dr. Smith thinks sentries
would scare the wolves away.”

“What kind of doctor is he?” I asked.

“Animal genetics and embryology,” replied
Lieutenant Lopez. “The others specialize in animal behavior.”

“Before I forget, I have something for you,”
I said, tossing Lopez a small box containing captain’s bars.
“General Kalipetsis promoted you. He thinks you are a real
go-getter and wants you to lead Military Intelligence back at
Headquarters.”

“I’ll take the rank, but what does Military
Intelligence mean for me?” asked Captain Lopez. “I get a desk
job?”

“It means that starting tomorrow you get to
babysit the eggheads, not me,” I said.

“It will be a short assignment,” replied
Captain Lopez. “These fools are going to get themselves killed for
sure, poking around after wolves.”

* * * * *

At about 0200 hours, a lone wolf scout
entered camp. He had been watching all night. Now that the campfire
had died down, the wolf felt safe taking a closer look. He ignored
the raw meat left in the cage trap. The wolf sniffed at a large
tent, pawing at the zipper until the door flap opened slightly. He
sniffed, then moved on to the armored cars.

Corporal Washington sat asleep in the cab of
his armored car. The large green spider could sleep soundly in any
position, and liked to sleep in the cab because he could not stand
the body odor of the human legionnaires at close quarters. Private
Wayne was doing the same thing in the other armored car.

The wolf looked in the driver’s side window
at the sleeping spider. With his paw, the wolf pulled down on the
door handle. It clicked as the door popped ajar. Corporal
Washington immediately woke up and pulled the door shut, locking
it. The wolf gnashed his teeth against the window, leaving a saliva
smear dripping on the glass. And then he was gone.

Corporal Washington climbed up into the
turret and fired the mounted machine gun into the woods where he
thought the wolf retreated. Everyone woke up to find Corporal
Washington still yelling, “Wolf!”

“We are not here to kill the wolves,” said
Dr. Smith. “We are here to establish a rapport with them.”

“I suppose that’s why you brought the trap
cage?” I asked. “If you catch a wolf in that thing, he is not going
to be happy.”

“I need to conduct tests on a live specimen,”
explained Dr. Smith. “I want to test the wolf’s IQ.”

“Good luck with that,” said Corporal
Washington. “You will need a larger cage.”

“I told you the New Colorado wolves are
larger than Earth wolves,” I added.

“They’re meaner, too,” said Captain Lopez.
“El lobo likes to eat gringos like you.”

“These wolves are a protected species,” I
said. “You are not allowed to trap them.”