America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 2: Reenlistment (18 page)

“Not true,” I answered. “I have no plans to
shoot any hostages, but I am still holding a few.”

“Have you released any hostages?” asked
General Kalipetsis.

“No, sir,” I said. “We’re still battling
insurgents up here, and I will not release any hostages until the
fighting stops. Not even the juveniles.”

“Good,” said General Kalipetsis, sounding
more chipper. “Keep up the good work.”

* * * * *

The company of Waterstone National Guard
started routine patrol of East Finisterra today. The Green spiders
weren’t popular with the locals, but I figured they’d get used to
it. A few insurgent snipers shot at the Greens on their first day.
After a few buildings were blown up in the exchange, fighting died
down to almost nothing. As the weekend approached, the streets
seemed deserted. Usually that is a sign that the insurgents are up
to something big. But, this time almost everyone in town was
traveling by riverboat to New Memphis for the football game. I
thought it odd how spiders seemed to pick up so many human customs
and preferences. Who would have thought spiders would like
football? Being that the Green spiders seemed to have everything
under control, I traveled with a company of Legionnaires to New
Memphis to see the game too.

* * * * *

Legionnaires arrived on the docks of New
Memphis with the East Finisterra football team. They assisted in
unloading football equipment.

Soon we were met by a couple of
Longshoreman’s Union business agents. The human and spider union
thugs confronted the legionnaires. “Only members of the
Longshoreman’s Union are allowed to load or unload anything on
these docks,” said the human business rep. “Because you are new to
New Memphis, I will excuse you for what has been already unloaded.
But the rest of your supplies will be unloaded by
longshoremen.”

“We are the Legion,” I said. “Military
matters are exempt from local regulations and contracts.”

“That is true,” said the union rep. “And I
would never presume to interfere with Legion affairs. But you are
unloading civilian goods, and scab work is not allowed in New
Memphis. It’s a very nice day. Why not keep it that way?”

“What I unload is of Legion military concern
if I say it is of Legion military concern,” I insisted. “Everything
we are doing here is for security reasons.”

“Supplies you unload for the East Finisterra
High School will be more secure if longshoremen unload it,” said
the union rep. “We will do it, or it won’t be done. I repeat, leave
a nice day alone.”

“Do you know who I am?” I asked. “I command
Legion interests from here to Finisterra to New Disneyland.”

“You are Captain Czerinski, the Butcher of
New Colorado,” said the spider union rep. “But you still will not
be allowed to unload that ship with scabs.”

“Throw these two into the river,” I said to
Sergeant Green. “Shoot anyone else who interferes with Legion
business.”

Both union reps were thrown into the water.
The commotion attracted more longshoremen who had been standing by.
They approached the loading dock, led by a large spider thug. When
Sergeant Green shot the spider’s arm off with an assault rifle, the
rest of the longshoremen dispersed. More longshoremen, however,
were attracted to the docks by the sound of gunfire. They dispersed
too when our armored car rolled down the gangplank. I posted guards
on our boat and the docks before going into town.

We escorted the East Finisterra football team
to their hotel. Several bookies and reporters came by, asking for
updates on the team. They also asked why the Legion was present at
the hotel. They were told the Legion was present in response to
threats from the insurgency. I granted one of the sports reporters
an interview in hope that the rest of them would go away.

“How do you see East Finisterra High School’s
chances in tomorrow’s game?” asked the reporter.

“I don’t follow football,” I replied. “I
don’t know.”

“Isn’t it true that several East Finisterra
football players were arrested?” asked the reporter. “Are they
still in custody?”

“I don’t get down to the detention center
much,” I said. “If the Legion arrested anyone, they are still in
custody. No one gets out unless I say so. We have been fighting a
pitched battle with the insurgency in East Finisterra, and we are
not backing down from our responsibilities.”

“How true is it that there was a disturbance
down by the docks this morning?”

“I know nothing about any disturbance by the
docks. I have no interest in local criminal activity. If
legionnaires come across criminal activity, we handle it on a case
by case basis.”

“So you are saying that legionnaires did not
shoot anyone at the docks today?” asked the reporter.

“Not that I know of. But our battle with the
insurgency is ongoing. We shoot terrorists all the time. If we shot
anyone today, they probably had it coming.”

“There was a report that legionnaires threw
two Longshoreman’s Union business representatives into the river,”
said the reporter. “Is that true?”

“Legionnaires might have broken up a
scuffle,” I answered. “As you know, the docks are a rough and
tumble place to do business. Please feel free to go down there and
check things out for yourself if you have any doubts.”

“I’m a sports reporter,” said the reporter.
“I try to stay out of dangerous places like the docks.”

“Unfortunately the Legion cannot pick and
choose where we serve. I guarantee the Legion’s presence on the New
Memphis docks makes your docks the safest place in the city. We
don’t tolerate nonsense from criminals or insurgents.”

“Why is there a Legion armored car parked in
front of the hotel?” asked the reporter.

“As I said, there were threats made by the
insurgency. Also, that’s the only car we brought. Why pay for a cab
when we already have an armored car?”

“Thank you for the interview, Captain
Czerinski,” concluded the reporter. “Will you be at the game?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I
said.

* * * * *

East Finisterra’s game with New Memphis was
not marred by any incidents or terrorist activities. The East
Finisterra quarterback repeatedly connected with speedy receivers
to score almost at will. The final score was East Finisterra 56,
New Memphis 21. The mayor spent all evening collecting from
bookies. I sent Lieutenant Lopez and a squad of legionnaires with
him for protection. I decided to leave that evening rather than
spend another night in the hotel. At the docks we got a visit from
three Mafia types.

“My name is Giuseppe Bonanno,” announced
their leader. “If it turns out you hustled us on that game tonight,
I am going to crack some heads. If you think you can run back to
Finisterra and be safe, you are wrong.”

“What do you mean hustled?” I asked.

“A lot of money changed hands tonight,” said
Bonanno. “You know exactly what I mean. Star East Finisterra
players were released from Legion custody to play in that game
after the point spread was up past eight and a half. I will not be
hustled. Do you hear me?”

“There was no hustle intended,” said Corporal
Tonelli. “There were just a few bets made. Certainly no one
intended any disrespect of the Bonanno family.”

“All of Finisterra bet on that game!” said
Bonanno. “Who is responsible for this hustle?”

I drew my pistol and shot all three Mafioso
in the head. Later, the sheriff of New Memphis called me up and
asked me about the incident. He advised me the Bonanno family is
very big and influential in New Memphis, and that they were
demanding an inquiry. I told the sheriff that if he could not clean
up his local organized crime problems, I would do it for him. I
told the sheriff I had military jurisdiction in his area and that
if I had to return to New Memphis to restore order again, he would
be the first local official removed from office.

After slamming down the phone, I contacted
the T. Roosevelt Space Weapons Platform. I told the space cannon
specialist to access the data base and identify all homes in the
New Memphis area belonging to anyone with the last name Bonanno. He
found ten homes. I ordered the space cannon specialist to drop
thousand pound cement blocks on all of the Bonanno family homes.
The sheriff called later to inform me that Bonanno organized crime
activities in New Memphis had ceased to exist.

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CHAPTER 14

At first Private George Rambo Washington
avoided the brothel next to city hall. Now, all he could do was
stare at the gaudy building. Private Washington knew Pam, Fran, and
their sisters worked there. He knew brothel work was steady and
honorable employment. But maybe his prolonged contact with humans
had skewed his opinion of just what was acceptable behavior. Pam
and Fran had both written him love letters and had visited Legion
Headquarters looking for him. Private Washington did not answer the
letters, and avoided the visits. Arthropodan culture did not frown
on brothel work like human culture did, but it still grated on
Private Washington that other spiders (and worse – human
pestilence) could touch Pam and Fran. That thought filled Private
Washington with rage.

He followed his loves when they left work.
Pam and Fran walked arm in arm with a group of customers getting
into a jeep. Private Washington had seen one customer in particular
with Pam and Fran before. He followed them across the Finisterra
Bridge to a modest home in East Finisterra. There, a loud party was
in progress. Private Washington listened to the music and the
hissing laughter. He felt they were laughing at him, and it made
him even angrier. Eventually the lights went out, and the party
ended. Pam and Fran stayed the night.

Depressed, Private Washington walked back
across the Finisterra Bridge. Corporal Tonelli and his dragon Spot
were still on guard duty.

“What’s the matter?” asked Tonelli. “You look
real down in the dumps. You take too much medication?”

“Guido, you’ve been around, and I value your
worldly opinion,” said Private Washington. “What would you do if
someone stole the two loves of your life?”

“I’m not clear on your question,” said
Tonelli. “Are we talking about females? You lost two females one
after another, or two at once?”

“He stole Pam and Fran from me,” said Private
Washington. “He’s with them now.”

“Don’t those two work in the brothel next to
City Hall?” asked Tonelli. “No offense, but aren’t they sluts?”

“Forget that they work in a brothel,” said
Private Washington. “What would you do if someone stole what you
love very much?”

“Put it that way,” said Tonelli thoughtfully,
“we Italians do not tolerate the taking of what is ours. It would
invoke the vendetta.”

“Tell me about this vendetta of yours,”
demanded Private Washington.

“A vendetta lasts forever,” said Tonelli. “A
widow points to the fetus she carries and vows it will exact
revenge for her loss. Vendetta demands vengeance against whoever
wrongs you or your family. Blood for blood.”

“So the Italian way is for blood to be
spilled?” asked Private Washington. “I will take Pam and Fran
back.”

“I didn’t say that. It’s not that simple,”
said Tonelli. “I’m not saying Italians would invoke the vendetta
every time we get upset. It must involve something really
important. Honor must be at stake.”

“Pam and Fran are important to me,” said
Private Washington.

“Yes, but are you as important to them?
Sometimes you just need to let go. It’s a natural thing for some
relationships to die.”

“I can’t let go,” said Private Washington. “I
love Pam and Fran, and they said in their letters that they are in
love with me, too.”

“Do you really believe that?” asked Tonelli.
“After all, they do work in a brothel.”

“They still write me love letters,” said
Private Washington. “They want to get married.”

“So what is your problem?” asked Tonelli. “Go
take them away from the brothel and marry them both.”

“I don’t think they feel they can quit their
jobs,” said Private Washington. “And what about the spider I saw
them with tonight? He is always with them.”

“Nonsense. Everyone has free choice. Go get
Pam and Fran and marry them.”

“But I still feel so much anger,” said
Private Washington. “It’s not the Arthropodan way, but I cannot
help myself. I will not share Pam and Fran with him or anyone
else.”

“Screw the Arthropodan way,” said Tonelli.
“This is America. Do what Americans would do.”

“You are right. I will invoke the vendetta. I
will kill all who steal what is mine. I will not rest until I free
Pam and Fran from his clutches.”
And I will do it tonight,
he thought to himself. “Thank you Guido. You have been very
helpful.”

Private Washington then walked over to the
armored car and started it up. He began checking weapons and
ammo.

“Hey wait,” said Corporal Tonelli. “What do
you think you are going to do with the armored car?”

“I’m taking it to East Finisterra,” said
Private Washington. “I am invoking the vendetta.”

“You are not taking the armored car
anywhere,” said Tonelli. “I’m signed for this car tonight. It
cannot leave my sight. I’m responsible for it.”

“You cannot stop me,” said Private
Washington, as he released the brake and started down the
Finisterra Bridge.

“Then I’m going with you,” said Tonelli.
“Where the armored car goes, I go.”

When they approached the checkpoint at the
base of the bridge, Corporal Williams challenged them. “Where are
you taking the armored car?” he asked.

“Into town to get some beer,” said Tonelli.
“We’ll be right back.”