America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 3: Silent Invasion (18 page)

* * * * *

Back at camp, Captain Lopez was preparing to
lead a squad of legionnaires to find me. They had found my pistol
and hoped to follow my tracks. Guido’s monitor dragon was already
pulling on its leash, wanting to follow my scent. Just as the squad
was assembled, a lone wolf scout emerged from the forest, carrying
my legionnaire cap. Captain Lopez signaled for the others not to
shoot. Spot immediately lunged at the wolf, but Guido pulled the
dragon back and kept him on a short leash. The wolf trotted up to
the cage and placed the cap on top. He gave the wolf inside the
cage a curt greeting, then disappeared into the tree line.

“If I had not seen that for myself, I would
never have believed it,” said Dr. Smith. “Do you realize what this
means? It means these wolves have evolved beyond anything we ever
could have hoped for. They are a sentient species. They can plan
ahead several actions at a time and can contemplate more than what
is in front of them. They are no longer merely reactionary
beasts.”

“Whatever,” said Captain Lopez. “They’re just
one more thing on New Colorado that can kill me.”

“Not if we can communicate with them,”
insisted Dr. Smith.

“We already have communicated,” said Captain
Lopez. “They want a prisoner exchange. Free the wolf.”

“I think you are right!” exclaimed Dr. Smith.
“We will know soon enough after viewing the video transmissions
from the wolf’s collar.”

Corporal Williams lifted the cage door, but
the wolf did not leave right away. First, it growled at Corporal
Williams. Then, it walked over to Guido and challenged the dragon
with more growls and posturing. Guido held Spot back. The wolf,
satisfied the dragon would not fight, went over to one of the
armored cars and urinated on a tire. Then it ran off into the
forest.

* * * * *

When the released wolf got to my location, it
charged, growling and snapping its jaws. I jumped back to avoid
being bitten. As it lunged again, I took a swipe at it with my
combat knife, just missing its throat. The wolf was amazingly agile
for being so large, and easily avoided my knife. The wolf then
slowly circled, preparing for a killing strike. I had no illusions
about my impending death. Suddenly, the larger wolf with the chewed
up ear confronted the other aggressive wolf. The two wolves
violently smashed against each other in frontal attack, teeth
gnashing and fur flying. As quickly as it started, the wolves
stopped fighting and were gone. I was alone. I sat there for a
while. When Captain Lopez and the others arrived, Lopez just handed
me my cap. “You owe me big time,” he said.

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Contents

Chapter 14

The Arthropodan Military Intelligence Officer
accessed the human pestilence database and read all he could find
on canines in general and on wolves in particular. He ordered team
leaders to hunt and trap wolves and bring a live wolf back to
Headquarters for examination. The team leaders seemed reluctant,
and so far none had come back. Impatient with his subordinates’
slow progress, the Military Intelligence Officer decided to do his
own field research. He visited George’s Pet Shop & Grooming
Center of West Finisterra to see what these canines were all
about.

“Do you have any wolves for sale?” asked the
Military Intelligence Officer. “I prefer a puppy. They are more
manageable.”

“No, sir,” said George. “It is illegal by the
Military Governor’s executive order to sell wolves or to traffic in
wolf parts or hides. It’s a capital offense.”

“Finisterra is now a part of the Arthropodan
Empire. It is a capital offense not to cooperate with Imperial
authorities,” warned the Intelligence Officer. “I will decide what
is legal or illegal, and I want to buy a wolf puppy.”

“Whatever,” said George. “I don’t sell
wolves.”

“Then who does?”

“No one,” said George. “It is illegal.”

“Do you have a German shepherd for sale?”
asked the Military Intelligence Officer. “I read on your human
pestilence database that German shepherds and wolves are similar
breeds.”

“We sold our last German shepherd last
week.”

“I want a canine now. What else do you have?
It has to be German, and the more aggressive, the better.”

“I could sell you a Dachshund,” said George.
“They’re German. You aren’t going to eat him are you? It’s illegal
to eat dogs.”

“I had never thought of that,” said the
Military Intelligence Officer. “Do they taste good?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said George. “People used
to eat dogs a long time ago, but it is frowned upon now. I do not
sell my dogs for laboratory experimentation. What assurance do I
have that the Dachshund won’t be abused?”

“I give my word as an officer,” said the
Military Intelligence Officer. “I am considering using guard dogs
to protect vital military installations. But first I need to see if
they can be properly trained.”

“Dachshunds are very smart, protective, and
loyal,” said George as he brought Sampson out on a leash. “And
Dachshunds are very expensive.”

“Money is no object,” said the Military
Intelligence Officer. “Do you take VISA?”

“Of course,” said George. “May I see your ID?
You will also need to buy accessories to keep your Dachshund happy.
You don’t want an unhappy Dachshund.”

“Are Dachshunds dangerous?” asked the
Military Intelligence Officer. “He looks like a wiener dog.”

“Shhhhhh!” warned George. “Do not say that
word around him. Dachshunds are very sensitive and temperamental.
Do not let his size deceive you. Dachshunds have been known to
sever an ankle with one bite.”

“It is a good thing we are wearing boots,”
said the Military Intelligence Officer.

“What?” asked George. “Oh, yes. Right. You
need to buy dog food, a dog leash, a rubber chew bone, a dog bed, a
special Dachshund blanket, and a fetch ball. This species gets real
testy if you don’t play fetch. And for free I am throwing in dog
care instructions. Be sure to walk your Dachshund regularly so that
he gets his exercise. Fat Dachshunds are not good.”

“Thank you,” said the Military Intelligence
Officer. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“If you call him by name, he will come and
obey commands,” said George. “Sampson is already house trained. You
can tell Sampson is particularly intelligent. See the smart bumps
on his forehead?”

“He has bumps on his forehead, but dents on
top,” observed the Military Intelligence Officer. “What does that
mean?”

“Oh my,” commented George, surprised by the
alien’s close attention to detail. “Sampson might be bi-polar. It’s
nothing to worry about, as long as he gets his vitamins.”

“Excellent,” said the Military Intelligence
Officer. He walked Sampson on a leash down the street to
Headquarters.

Pedestrians got out of Sampson’s way as they
walked. A number of female spiders commented on Sampson. “Those
creatures are dangerous,” said a female spider. “Are you not afraid
to be handling it?”

“I am a soldier,” boasted the Military
Intelligence Officer. “I risk my life for the Empire every day. But
do not worry. This Dachshund is highly trained. I will show
you.”

The Military Intelligence Officer was pleased
that the Dachshund not only might have military value, but it
appeared to be a babe magnet, too. He reached into his bag and
pulled out a small rubber ball. Sampson barked and hopped up for
the ball, wagging his tail excitedly. The Military Intelligence
Officer unclipped the leash, and threw the ball. “Sampson! Fetch!”
he ordered.

Sampson ran after the ball. Growling, he
grasped the ball in his mouth and kept on running, away from the
Military Intelligence Officer. The officer chased Sampson all over
West Finisterra, but the Dachshund was too quick to be caught.
Finally, the Military Intelligence Officer gave up, sitting down by
a street curb to catch his breath. Sampson then came back and
placed the ball at his feet. The Military Intelligence Officer
threw a web over Sampson and made plans to attach a GPS device on
this obnoxious canine.

* * * * *

The next day at Headquarters, the Military
Intelligence Officer showed Sampson to the Special Forces
Commander. The Commander was not impressed. “What is this?” he
asked. “I order you to capture wolves, and you bring me a wiener
dog?”

Sampson immediately started barking and
pulling on his leash. The Military Intelligence Officer pulled
Sampson back, comforting him with a gentle pat on its head. “The
big mean Special Forces Commander did not mean it. He is
sorry.”

“What?” asked the Special Forces Commander.
“Have you lost your mind over that wiener dog?”

“Sir, please do not use the W-word around
Sampson,” pleaded the Military Intelligence Officer. “Dachshunds
are very sensitive.”

“Get that Earth vermin out of my office
before it makes a mess on the floor,” ordered the Special Forces
Commander. “Who knows what diseases it might carry. Get it out, or
I will shoot it myself!”

“Sir, this Dachshund is a highly trained
hunter and tracker, and has already proved invaluable in my
research on canines and wolves,” explained the Military
Intelligence Officer. “He was very expensive to acquire, I might
add.”

“You were cheated,” said the Special Forces
Commander. “That creature is too small to have military
applications. Give me a dragon any day.”

“Notice how Sampson is always sniffing
about,” said the Military Intelligence Officer. “Its sense of smell
is perhaps its most acute asset.”

“So?” replied the Special Forces Commander.
“It is an ankle biter.”

“Yes, I was meaning to warn you about that,”
said the Military Intelligence Officer. “For my laboratory
investigative purposes, the Dachshund’s small size merely makes it
more manageable. It still has the same traits and characteristics
as the wolf. And already tests on Sampson have given us a new
weapon in the war against the wolves.”

“I doubt that,” hissed the Special Forces
Commander, as he watched Sampson lift his leg by the corner of the
desk. “What is he doing now?”

“By searching the human pestilence database,
I discovered that our scent can be masked by the scent of common
Earth animals. I have manufactured synthetic skunk odor that, if
rubbed on our exoskeleton, masks our odor from Sampson, and most
certainly, wolves, too. This breakthrough will make our troops
invisible to the wolves at night. I believe wolves do not see well
at night, and our night vision technology we will have a distinct
advantage.”

“Is that what that smell is?” asked the
Special Forces Commander. “I was meaning to talk to you about your
grooming hygiene. Does this skunk odor wash off?”

“Eventually,” said the Military Intelligence
Officer. “The human pestilence make a product called Skunk Off. I
am trying to obtain a retail sample so we can duplicate the process
for issue to our troops.”

“Yes, yes, you do that,” said the Special
Forces Commander. “I want my commandos to be issued the skunk mask
as soon as possible. Good work!”

* * * * *

The gods of war smiled on the Arthropodan
Special Forces team leader today. He led his commandos behind enemy
lines and successfully filmed legionnaires and scientists working
with wolves and doing their experiments. But today the team leader
was rewarded for his efforts with a bonus. The team leader located
most-wanted war criminals Gotti, Czerinski, and Lopez. Priority was
given to capture Gotti for trial, but permission was given to kill
all three. The Legion had moved a battalion up to the border, but
the team leader had the element of surprise on his side. Covered
head to foot by camouflage nets, the commandos slowly crept past
pickets and sentries into the Legion camp. Most-wanted Gotti would
be the easiest target. The assassin was posted on guard duty on the
perimeter. The team leader would capture Gotti personally. Fame,
fortune, and promotions were all in the team leader’s grasp. All he
had to do was reach out and take it.

The command tent, bristling with antennas,
was a prime target. Czerinski and Lopez had been seen coming and
going from the tent. A spider commando placed explosives by the
tent and on a generator next to it. He finished setting the timer
and turned to leave.

* * * * *

I exited the command tent via a side flap and
nearly collided with a spider commando. He sliced at me with a
large jagged combat knife. I just had time to raise my forearm in
defense. I caught the knife blade in my metal prosthetic hand and
twisted it from the spider’s grip. I then cut the spider commando
across his gut. He pulled away, clutching at his exoskeleton,
trying to keep himself together. I drew my pistol and shot the
spider twice in the head.

I kicked the commando to make sure he was
dead. That is when I saw the explosives. I yelled out an alarm to
evacuate the command tent. Several explosions destroyed the tent, a
generator along with some fuel, and an armored car. There was some
scattered gunfire in the confusion as other spider commandos tried
to withdraw.

* * * * *

Guido and Gotti had been sitting in a
improvised log bunker on the perimeter. Guido was already upset
about having to pull perimeter guard duty again. Czerinski seemed
to have it out for both him and Gotti. Perhaps he knew about Gotti.
Or maybe Czerinski just did not like Italians. But now, Guido could
smell the odor of skunk. He did not think skunks had been seeded on
to New Colorado, but the skunk smell was very distinct.

“Is that you I smell?” asked Guido, turning
to Gotti. “You smell like something crawled up your ass and died.
What did you eat earlier?”