America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 5: Insurgency (13 page)

* * * * *

General Kalipetsis called me on the phone for
my monthly report. He seemed glad to talk. I immediately became
suspicious.

“How are you, Colonel Czerinski?” asked
General Kalipetsis. “I was just thinking about the fine job you and
Captain Lopez have been doing. I will be promoting Captain Lopez to
Major.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Captain Lopez is very
competent and deserves promotion. I will give him the news
personally. I’m sure he will be happy to know you think so well of
him.”

“How is Private Laika Barker doing?” asked
General Kalipetsis. “I was very disappointed he did not work out as
a newly minted second lieutenant.”

“Sergeant Green tells me Barker distinguished
himself with a sniper’s rifle at that Miranda homestead skirmish,”
I said. “But I am watching him closely.”

“You do that,” said General Kalipetsis,
bitterly.

“I have another problem,” I said. “The spider
commander is complaining that the northern wheat crop is dying from
blight. He thinks the Legion is responsible. Are we?”

“No, of course not,” replied General
Kalipetsis. “To even suggest such a thing is preposterous.”

“Sir, I am not so sure,” I said. “Normally it
is the spiders I have to warn about adventurism along the border.
But if I cannot trust you to tell the truth and act responsibly, we
have a serious problem.”

“Me?” asked General Kalipetsis, innocently.
“You are the one who can’t be trusted! Why should I ever trust
you?”

“What? After all we have been through? Have
you ever caught me in a lie?”

“Yes, many times. You have consistently lied
and covered up mistakes since the first day I talked you.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. “But have I ever lied
about anything serious?”

“You have exploded nukes and denied it! Is
that serious enough for you?”

“Okay, I’ll admit I lie once in a while,” I
said. “That doesn’t mean my creditability is destroyed. I only hold
back the truth in the line of duty, and to further the best
interests of the Legion.”

“And to line your pockets with cash,” said
General Kalipetsis. “You have sticky fingers. You’re almost as bad
as Lopez!”

“Where is this conversation leading?” I
asked. “Are you questioning my loyalty?”

“You bet I am,” said General Kalipetsis. “If
you cross me, I’ll squash you like a bug.”

“Sir, you had better tell me what this is all
about,” I demanded. “You can’t expect me to tell you everything I
do. But, you’re my supreme commander. I rely on you to tell me the
straight scoop. My life depends on that.”

“I give you the straight scoop,” said General
Kalipetsis, “and you dump on me in return!”

“I expect you to tell me what I need to know,
so together we can make informed decisions. You lied to me about an
incident that could lead to war. I can’t tolerate that.”

“You had better be able to explain yourself,
mister,” warned General Kalipetsis. “I am about to bust you down to
private for insubordination.”

“You killed my prized tropical office
plants,” I said. “Don’t try to deny it. Now, it’s not that big a
deal. But, somehow you killed the spiders’ wheat crop, too. That
is
a big deal. Don’t try to deny it, either. It was a poor
decision. Fine. That part of it is behind us. We can work together
like we always do to resolve this mess, or I can file a complaint
against you for treason and malfeasance of office.”

“You would never be able to make those
charges stick,” said General Kalipetsis. A long moment of silence
passed, after which General Kalipetsis revealed the accusations
made by Desert Claw. General Kalipetsis also admitted to attacking
the spiders’ wheat without prior authorization from civilian
authorities. And, he confessed to killing my office plants.

“When it comes to information provided by
Desert Claw, consider the source,” I said. “He is a
narco-terrorist.”

“I agree,” said General Kalipetsis. “I forgot
you are my most competent and ruthless commander. And, you are my
most loyal commander. How shall we proceed?”

“With caution,” I advised. “Some of Desert
Claw’s plot might be true. We will deal with these issues one at a
time. We will lie to the spiders, of course. Offer them partial
compensation for the damage to their wheat crop, but still deny
sabotage. Tell them we quarantined a wheat blight on our side of
the DMZ, and burned the affected fields. Somehow the blight found
its way north, anyway. Apologize for not informing them of the
possible hazard to their wheat crop, but that we thought the blight
was under control. Offer to sell them wheat at a reasonable price.
Offer a kickback to the spider commander. As for Desert Claw, go
ahead and give him amnesty. We will wait and see just what he is
planning. When Desert Claw finally comes out of hiding and thinks
he is safe, he will be that much easier to kill. I’ll do it
myself.”

“What’s this business about Barker?” asked
General Kalipetsis. “Should we arrest Barker? Can Barker be
trusted?”

“I don’t know. I just want to keep Barker
alive for another four months.”

“Why?” asked General Kalipetsis. “I would
think you would jump at the chance to arrest or kill him.”

“I have personal reasons for keeping Private
Barker alive and well. Millions of personal reasons.”

back to top

Chapter 15

A hundred farm tractors and wheat combines
lined up at the New Gobi City MDL border crossing on the
Arthropodan side. A thousand angry spider wheat farmers accompanied
their farm equipment, carrying protest signs and yelling slogans
saying, ‘Legion go home,’ and ‘the Legion murdered our wheat.’ A
spokesman for the spider farmers greeted Corporals Tonelli and
Valdez at the Legion checkpoint.

“What’s this all about?” asked Guido. “I
thought you farmers were getting compensated for the blight that
escaped our quarantine.”

“The pittance the Legion offered is not
nearly enough,” announced the farmers’ spokesman. “The Legion
deliberately destroyed the livelihood of thousands of families. We
are here to present a full accounting of our losses to Legion
Headquarters.”

“I’ll take your petition for damages and
personally deliver it to Colonel Czerinski,” offered Guido.
“Okay?”

“No!” replied the farmers’ spokesman. “We
will deliver an accounting ourselves, to make sure the Legion hears
us.”

“You can’t do that,” said Guido. “The border
is closed to all traffic.”

“Since when?” asked the spokesman.

“Since right now,” replied Guido. “I just
closed it. If you want, I’ll escort a representative to Legion
Headquarters to present your claims, but there is no way this mob
of angry redneck spiders on tractors is crossing the border.”

“And what happens if we decide to crash the
gate?” asked the spokesman. “What can the two of you do to stop
us?”

“I will shoot you first,” warned Guido.
“Anyone crossing the MDL is trespassing and subject to lethal
force, arrest, and impounding of their property. The full force of
the Foreign Legion stands behind me.”

“I see,” said the spokesman, turning away and
walking back to discuss the matter with other spider farmers.
“Threats will not deter us!”

“That is how you deal with troublemakers,”
said Guido, giving Valdez a high-five slap. “You have to be firm
with spiders, especially with their leaders. I am firm, but
fair.”

“You sure told him,” said Corporal Valdez.
“Did you see how mad he got when he left? I swear that spider’s
mandibles were twitching and turning beet red.”

The sound of a hundred engines drowned out
their conversation. The first tractor smashed through the border
crossing gate at full speed. Its large tractor tire sideswiped the
guard shack. The shattered building fell on its side with the two
surprised legionnaires still inside. Guido’s monitor dragon, Spot,
hissed at the tractors and nipped at their wheels as the convoy
rolled by to Legion Headquarters.

Desert Claw and several other terrorists
crossed the border with the farmers. At legion Headquarters, the
tractors and combines formed a semi circle, honking horns. TV news
crews were already waiting. I looked out my office window, locked
the front door, and called for Legion reinforcements to secure the
area. Captain Lopez arrived with two companies of infantry and
three armored cars. By that time, several windows and the front of
the building had already been trashed with rocks and rotten
food.

“Maybe if we went out and talked to them,”
suggested Captain Lopez, “it might calm them down.”

“Maybe you can do that,” I said, “but I am
staying inside.”

“A whiff of grape shot would clear the
streets of such rabble,” sneered Captain Lopez, tucking his hand
inside his shirt flap and pacing back and forth as he scanned the
enemy, doing his best Napoleon Bonaparte imitation. “But, it will
be easier if we just go out and let them have their TV moment.”

“Fine,” I said, leading the way outside. The
crowd immediately started booing and throwing vegetables.

“You should not go out there!” advised
Valerie, following on my heels, still wearing hers. “This is how I
died at the U.S. Embassy in Beijing. The crowd overwhelmed us. They
planned our murders.”

“I’ve survived tougher spots,” I replied, as
I surveyed the crowd for leaders. By now, I had snipers deployed on
the roof. “They just want to be on TV.”

“Are you still hearing voices?” asked Captain
Lopez.

“Yes, I hear voices all the time.”

“Perhaps more medication will help.”

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t want help. The
voices love me.”

“That’s all I need,” commented Captain Lopez,
shaking his head and crossing himself for luck. “A loco commander
who still talks to his imaginary friends.”

“I have good news and bad news,” I said,
changing the subject and hoping to give Lopez encouragement. “The
bad news is, you get to talk to the mob. The good news is, I’m
promoting you to major. I already talked to General Kalipetsis
about it. If we live, I’ll pin the rank on your shoulders
personally.”

“Who is in charge of this crowd?” yelled
Major Lopez, immediately taking command and broadcasting on a
handheld PA speaker. He dodged a tomato as the crowd surged forward
again.

“I am!” answered a spider leader, pushing
forward through the crowd. “I have a comprehensive bill for damages
in regard to your admitted biological attack on our wheat
harvest!”

“We did not attack your wheat crop,”
responded Major Lopez. “But I will present your bill to the
Military Governor, General Kalipetsis. He has admitted some fault
and is giving fair consideration to your claims. This will take
time to sort out.”

“He lies!” yelled a spider from the back of
the crowd. “Burn the Legion out!”

The crowd surged forward again. Legionnaires
forming a three-deep line in front of Legion Headquarters pushed
and prodded back with assault rifles and bayonets. From atop a
tractor, Desert Claw scanned the lines of legionnaires until he
found Private Laika Barker at the front. Desert Claw pointed out
Private Barker to the other insurgents, then started his tractor.
He gunned the tractor engine, let out the clutch, and lurched
forward over the top of spider demonstrators and into legionnaires.
The tractor kept going until crashing into the front wall of Legion
Headquarters, leaving a large gaping hole in the façade. As spider
farmers breached the Legion line, insurgents threw grenades at
Private Barker. Others fired their rifles.

Private Krueger, standing his ground next to
Private Barker, swatted back grenades with his rifle like
baseballs. Explosions caused panic and death. Legionnaires returned
fire into the crowd. The insurgents used tractors and protesters
for cover. Legion snipers on the Headquarters roof picked off some
insurgents. Protesters were caught in the crossfire. Desert Claw,
who had fallen off his tractor, retreated back to safety across the
MDL.

* * * * *

The Wheat Protest Massacre was broadcast live
on Channel Five World News Tonight with Phil Coen. I was forced to
grant Coen an interview.

“Colonel Czerinski, many spiders refer to you
as The Butcher of New Colorado because you have commanded
legionnaires at the scene of several alleged brutal massacres,”
said Phil Coen. “In light of this most recent incident turned
deadly, already dubbed by many as The Wheat Protest Massacre, how
do you respond to charges of excessive force and murder?”

“Well Phil,” I started, “you are under arrest
for making inflammatory provocative statements during a declared
State of Emergency. Have a nice day, Phil.” Legionnaires pummeled
Phil as he was dragged away.

* * * * *

Upon hearing that Private Laika Barker was
one of several seriously injured legionnaires, I rushed to the
hospital to check on his welfare. Private Barker’s medical status
had been upgraded overnight from serious to stable. He seemed to be
glad to see me.

“Sir, it is nice of you to visit,” said
Private Barker. “It warms my heart to know my commanding officer
really does care.”

“I care about the welfare of all legionnaires
under my command,” I replied. “I feel the responsibility of a
father to you all.”

“I think you are especially caring about my
welfare lately,” commented Private Barker. “I had a dream last
night. I was floating above my bed being drawn to a bright white
light.”

“You had a near-death experience?” I asked,
alarmed. “How do you feel now? Does the doctor know of this?”

“I feel better, thank you for asking,” said
Private Barker. “In my dream, a familiar voice was calling me. It
was your voice, colonel.”