Mountain Claw took Twitchy’s backpack and tossed it on the counter. “Here! Fill this with cash!”
“You still haven’t showed me your gun.”
“Hey, no cutting the line!” interrupted a fat lady at the back of the line. “I’m sick and tired of you rude, inconsiderate spiders always pushing ahead of everyone in line on welfare day.”
Others agreed and started jostling for position.
“Shut up!” shouted Mountain Claw, pounding the counter. “Give me my money!”
“It’s not your money,” argued the bank teller. “Sir, I don’t like your tone. I’m calling the Sheriff.” The bank alarm sounded.
Mountain Claw pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it at the bank teller. Startled, she slammed the teller window shut, knocking the grenade back at Mountain Claw. The grenade bounced off the highly waxed floor and skidded to a spinning stop in the middle of the lobby. Mountain Claw jumped over the counter as the grenade exploded, leaving mayhem and body parts behind. Scratch one henchman and several human pestilence fat ladies. The gore was awful.
Mountain Claw tore the drawer open, filling the backpack with cash. He grabbed the bank teller for a human pestilence shield, and raced outside amid a hail of gunfire from sheriff’s deputies. What was left of the gang fled to the border, escaping on motorcycles.
* * * * *
Through binoculars, Lieutenant Patton observed the fleeing spider bikers chased by sheriff’s cars. The bikes crashed through the checkpoint gate at the border. From atop the rise east of town, he had a perfect view. As Patton listened to the radio reports about the terrorist strike on the bank, he made a command decision. “Target those bikers!”
Artillery rained down on Mountain Claw’s gang as they raced down the back streets toward their safe house and tunnels. There was collateral damage, but that was expected. The safe house went up in flames, as did the Taco Bell next to it. Lieutenant Patton could smell beef burritos on the wind, reminding him of his native California. But he dismissed the nostalgic moment. “There is no going home for this old soldier. My destiny is yet to be fulfilled.”
Mountain Claw changed directions, heading out of town toward the hills. Legion tanks followed, guided by a drone in the air. After crashing the border fence, Patton led his men on a shortcut through the spiders’ new five-star golf course and country club. Soon they were deep into Arthropodan territory, chasing bike dust over the next hill.
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Chapter 14
Already, the spider commander was complaining and threatening a retaliatory strike. I called Lieutenant Patton on the radio. “You are relieved of command,” I ordered. “Withdraw immediately!”
“I am in hot pursuit of bandits and terrorists, as allowed by treaty,” advised Lieutenant Patton. “Just keep those spider marines off my back and, with luck, I will have them.”
“No! Get back here!”
“Sir, the terrorists took a human female hostage. Who knows what deprivations they intend? It is our duty to protect American citizens, and to effect a rescue. Can you provide air cover?”
“No! I will be meeting with the spider commander shortly to sort this out. Half of New Gobi City is burning. Don’t blow up anything else.”
“One greasy Taco Bell? No big deal. I did the spiders a favor. I’ll bet the McDonald’s people are already applauding.”
“Taco Bell is an American corporation. But more important, you are trespassing on Arthropodan soil. The spiders go crazy about trespassing. It’s ingrained in their DNA.”
“Show them the treaty,” repeated Lieutenant Patton. “Hot pursuit of criminals is allowed, and even common.”
“Not with tanks and artillery fire!”
“Tanks are my good luck charm. A soldier is born with only so much luck, and my reservoir is running dry. If you’re going to fight a war, bring the proper tools to win.”
“We are not at war.”
“Call it a punitive expedition.”
“Fine! Proceed with caution into the hills.” How much harm can he do up there? I told myself. “But prepare an exit strategy for when your mission is over. I promise that will be soon!”
“Yes, sir.”
* * * * *
I met the spider commander for lunch at McDonald’s. The restaurant was in a festive mood, with piñatas adorning the ceiling. Chipotle burritos and tacos were being given away for free with each ten-dollar order.
“I hate Mexican food,” complained the spider commander, sipping on his Starbucks. “And this coffee is too hot!”
“Would you like some cheese to go with your whine?” I asked.
“Not if it’s American cheese,” answered the spider commander, still complaining as he ignored my obvious pun. “A magistrate has issued warrants for Lieutenant Patton’s arrest. If you order your miscreant subordinate to surrender now, I will spare the legionnaires under him.”
“Patton is pursuing bandits, per treaty,” I announced. “If you menace Patton or his legionnaires in any manner, it will be an act of war, and I will personally hold you accountable.”
“Do not threaten me.”
“Spider bandits robbed the First Colonial Bank and fled across the border with a hostage. What are you going to do about that?”
“I saw the video. It’s just Mountain Claw. He can be killed anytime.”
“Then just do it. What have you been waiting for?”
“In my own time. Mountain Claw hasn’t been anything but a petty nuisance until now. I cannot have your legionnaires running amuck, trespassing and shelling New Gobi City!”
“Sorry about Taco Bell.”
“It’s okay. KFC has expressed an interest in the property, and I am inclined to sign off on their business permit. I love chicken.”
“Lieutenant Patton chased Mountain Claw into the hills northeast of town. If he kills Mountain Claw, fine. If not, he withdraws. Damage is contained to the hills, so it’s a win-win situation for both of us. The media will report spiders and humanity working together to fight crime along the border. Everyone will be a happy camper.”
“As long as Patton and you human pestilence do not intend to camp too long.”
* * * * *
The tanks traveled up the hills along a winding dirt road with a deep ravine to one side. The lead tank, commanded by Sergeant Rubin Rivers, scouted for mines as it approached a roadblock of fallen trees. The first RPG glanced off the sloped turret, exploding harmlessly down the canyon. More followed, as did small-arms fire. Mountain Claw’s bandits popped out of spider holes, took shots, and popped back down.
With the rest of the company providing dust-off cover fire, Sergeant Rivers jumped down from the turret. Dragging cable to the fallen trees, he tossed the hook over the top, wrapping the connection around the largest log. An RPG hit on the other side, knocking Rivers flat. Slightly wounded by shrapnel, Rivers still pulled the cable to where it could be secured. Then he waved at the tank driver to reverse, pulling the log jam from the road. The tanks then charged up the hill as Mountain Claw and his bandits retreated. Lieutenant Patton’s tank roared up beside Sergeant Rivers.
“You’ll get a medal for that, sergeant! That was outstanding fighting spirit!”
“Been there, done that, sir,” replied Sergeant Rivers, limping back to his tank. “I just want to go home.”
“We all do,” sighed Lieutenant Patton. “Where are you from, son?”
“Tecumseh, Oklahoma, sir. There ain’t much there, and tornadoes keep threatening to take what’s left away, but it’s home, and I’d rather be there. What is this nonsense, chasing Martians all over the place?”
“They’re not Martians, they’re spiders. I can’t wait to kill a few to get a good look at ‘em.”
“I think we’ve already killed a few, but there ain’t much left to see,” advised Sergeant Rivers, cheerfully. “Hoorah!”
* * * * *
Mountain Claw fled out the backdoor of his tunnel, and down the hill. His bro
ther Sugar Claw followed. They stopped in their tracks. What was that buzzing sound? Mountain Claw looked up at the clear blue sky, but saw nothing.
“The Legion sends an army of tanks after me for one little back robbery?” asked Mountain Claw. “They never did that before.”
“Maybe it was all the fat-lady human pestilence you blew up at the bank,” suggested Sugar Claw. “Maybe we should move on. I hear they struck gold up north. We could rob miners.”
“They came for me!” shouted Eve Jones, struggling to get out of Mountain Claw’s evil clutches. “The Legion will carve you up and roast you for dinner if you don’t release me at once!”
“Not today,” answered Mountain Claw, still squinting up at the sky. “Back in the tunnels! The human pestilence have an eye in the sky!”
Mountain Claw dropped the backpack in first before jumping. It grated on Mountain Claw that, with all this money, he still was forced to hide in a cave. Mountain Claw had dug a hundred miles of catacombs under the New Gobi Hills and was confident he could wait out the Legion. Nevertheless, he started digging a new tunnel, away from the hills, back toward the border. Ha! The human pestilence will never suspect that!
* * * * *
Lieutenant Patton stood next to the spider hole, peering down at the darkness. He dropped a rock, but the hole seemed bottomless.
“How can there be no bottom?” asked Lieutenant Columbus. “It’s unnatural.”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” answered Sergeant Rivers, dragging one of several Yamaha dirt bikes found hidden in the bushes. “I say we burn these bikes and throw them down the hole. Maybe we can smoke them out.”
Lieutenant Patton tossed another rock. “It won’t do any good, but if it makes you feel better, do it. Then blow up the entrance.”
Soon, thick black smoke rose from motorcycles and gasoline. Lieutenant Patton ordered all the entrances blown. “We’re not leaving until we smoke those bastards out!”
* * * * *
Mountain Claw looked up at the legionnaires peering down. He took careful aim with his rifle, but then one of the human pestilence tossed a large rock. Mountain Claw deftly caught the rock, gently setting the boulder to the side. Then came another. Mountain Claw caught that rock, too.
“What game do the human pestilence play now?” asked Sugar Claw. “They toy with us?”
“Quiet. Be glad those were not grenades.”
They fled south to the sound of burning motorcycles crashing down the cavern, followed by explosions. Smoke filled the tunnel. Mountain Claw swore brutal revenge on the human pestilence for wrecking his bikes. They were paid for, too.
As smoke billowed, Mountain Claw took a wrong turn to a dead end. Seeing light above, a dozen spider bandits scrambled up and out, to be greeted by a hail of gunfire. Increased smoke forced Mountain Claw up, too, dragging Eve.
“Don’t shoot, and I will allow the female human pestilence to live!”
Lieutenant Patton took careful aim with his revolver, shooting Mountain Claw dead center between his eight eyes. The spider bandit dropped like a sack of potatoes. Splattered with yellowish blood and gore, Eve rushed forward to embrace her savior. “I want to bear your many babies,” gushed Eve. “Take me, marry me, drag me off to your lair, and plant your virile seed.”
“Madam, you are in shock,” replied Lieutenant Patton, awkwardly trying to break free of her grasp. “I would never take undue advantage.”
“You are already married?” cried Eve, examining the gold ring on Patton’s left hand. “My brave Hero of the Legion is taken?”
Lieutenant Patton hesitated, saddened by the reminder. “No. My love, all that I loved, and all who once loved me, are long dead and gone, buried by the sands of time. I am alone.”
“Kiss me, you fool, like there is no tomorrow.”
Lieutenant Patton kissed Eve, long and passionate, strategically cupping a breast for good measure. History had taught Patton a thing or two about Russian hands and Roman fingers as he swept the beautiful Eve off her feet, a fine spoil of war.
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Chapter 15
Patton led his tanks in a victory parade back to New Gobi City. As they entered town, it was a glorious sight, reminiscent of a conquering Caesar. Legion flags fluttered in the breeze, with spider bandit corpses tied to the front bumpers, and Eve atop a turret beside Lieutenant Patton, her bare breasts pointed forward, spurring the troops on.
However, first they had to go through Arthropodan occupied North New Gobi City, where dead spiders strapped to bumpers were unappreciated. Young spiders threw rocks and tossed garbage out into the roadway. Legionnaires sealed their hatches as bullets pinged off the armor. At the border, Patton’s lead tank crashed the spiders’ gate, doing sixty-eight.
On the American side, the parade resumed with all its grand splendor. Via helmet cameras, the entire mission and the victory parade were broadcast in real time on the Galactic Database. Adoring crowds pressed in on the tanks, cheering and waving American flags. Drunk leather-clad biker babes swarmed the tank turrets, lewdly pulling at the legionnaires’ uniforms and pushing contraband. Sergeant Rivers had a biker babe in each arm.
“This is what I’ve been talking about!” exclaimed Lieutenant Patton. “America loves a winner! I’ve been in bigger parades, but none better!”
The crowd cheered its approval even louder. The President texted to announce, ‘It’s Miller-time,’ as the parade ended at the Blind Tiger Tavern & Casino.
* * * * *
I joined the party at the Blind Tiger. Lieutenant Patton stood with Eve, announcing his engagement to be married. The press ate it up, hanging on Patton’s every word. Major Lopez, being his usual dour self, pulled me off to the side, undoubtedly to give me bad news about something or other.
“What?”
“I’ve been talking to many of our new legionnaires,” advised Major Lopez in hushed tones. “Once they get a few drinks in them, they all have an interesting story to tell.”
“Everyone in the Legion has a story. So what? Can’t you just enjoy the party for once? Chill, Lopez. You are wound way too tight.”
“They all claim to be ghosts from World War II.”
“Ghosts?”
“Not real ghosts, but they all died fighting in Patton’s Third Army.”
“That sounds like ghosts to me.”
“I don’t know what they are. That kid talking to the press is the real General Patton.”
“No way.”
“Yep, he’s the real deal.”
I checked the database on my notepad. There was an uncanny resemblance between the two Pattons, but that proved nothing. Our Patton was much younger than the old general of yesteryear. Illegal micro chip enhancements could explain that, but time travel could not be so easily explained. There was too much of a crowd around Patton, so I confronted Sergeant Rivers, showing him old database photos of himself and Patton. “Care to explain?” I asked.
“I’ve been reading your stinking database, too,” slurred Sergeant Rivers, held up only by twin biker babes. “The database claims the world is flat, so don’t believe everything you read.”
“Did you travel through time?”
“Shhhh, it’s supposed to be a secret!”
“The world being flat is supposed to be a secret, too, but everyone knows.”
“Really? Which world is flat?” asked Sergeant Rivers, more confused.
“All of them.”
“Even Oklahoma?”
“Especially Oklahoma. Is that where you are from?”
“Yes, and I’ll tell you what. You better let us go home soon, or there is going to be a serious problem.”
“You are in the Legion. That means you’re in for the duration.”
“I already was in for the duration. There can’t be two durations!”
With that last piece of bad news, Sergeant Rivers fell forward on his face. Unconscious, Rivers was carried off by giggling biker babes.
* * * * *
The spider commander entered the Blind Tiger, trailed by body guards. He never missed poker night. The spider Military Intelligence officer slinked off to mingle with the crowd, buying free drinks for anyone who was talkative. Rather than going straight to the poker game, the spider commander intended to confront Lieutenant Patton, who was now well into making a speech.
“There are two kinds of people in this galaxy, humans and aliens,” advised Lieutenant Patton triumphantly. “Today, humanity kicked alien ass!”
“You will not repeat that disgusting uncivilized display through my town again,” admonished the spider commander, abruptly interrupting the young human pestilence. “Our species will not be put on display like trophies from a hunt.”
Lieutenant Patton’s light-hearted mood turned serious as he turned away from the reporters. “Excuse me for staring, but I’ve never seen one of you bugs up close, as least not still alive.”
“I do not like the term bug,” advised the spider commander, tapping his translator. “That word does not translate well.”
“Your uniform is black like the Hun,” commented Lieutenant Patton. “You look like a Nazi bug. How does that translate?”
“Not well. Do not compare the Empire to petty Old Earth regimes from the ash heap of human pestilence history. And another thing, you ruined my golf course!”
“Sorry about the golf course,” advised Lieutenant Patton, contritely. “What are you bugs doing on our side of the border?”
“It’s poker night,” answered the spider commander, stiffening. “Care to join me and Colonel Czerinski for a friendly game?”
“That’s right, I forgot how cozy Czerinski is with you bugs. Did you hear what happened to the lion?”
“Lion?”
Lieutenant Columbus Page 10