Enemies

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Enemies Page 12

by Walter Knight


  * * * * *

  Lydia called me on the phone. “Need some company tonight?” she asked. “Will you be watching the game at the Blind Tiger?”

  “You know about the game, too?” I asked.

  “Of course, lover,” said Lydia. “I bet everything on it. It’s a sure thing. Right?”

  “Right,” I replied.

  “Where are you?” asked Lydia.

  “My place,” I said. “I’m in the bunker under Legion Headquarters. I don’t feel so well tonight. I think I’ll just watch the game at home.”

  “I love your place,” said Lydia. “It’s like the Bat Cave, and I’m Cat Woman. Can I come over? I am a nurse. I know how to make you feel better.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll call Guido. He’ll escort you in.”

  * * * * *

  “I need a loan,” said Mountain Claw. “Can you help me?”

  “No,” said the Legion ATM. “I should have never recruited you into the Legion in the first place. Do you have any collateral?”

  “I have some jewelry,” said Mountain Claw. “Can you appraise it?”

  “Yes,” said the ATM. “Put it in my drawer. I’ll scan it.”

  “I have a lot,” said Mountain Claw.

  “I’m losing my patience with you,” said the ATM. “Let’s see it.”

  Mountain Claw put all the jewelry from the heist in the ATM drawer. It appraised at twenty-six million dollars.

  “My, my, my,” said the ATM. “It was you who hit the Arthropodan Jewelry Exchange? I may need to reevaluate my opinion of you. You could even be officer material.”

  “How much can you loan me?” asked Mountain Claw.

  “How much do you want?”

  “How about twenty-six million dollars?”

  “How about one million?” countered the ATM. “After all, it is stolen property.”

  “Yes, but we are on the Legion side of the MDL,” argued Mountain Claw. “I need at least ten million dollars.”

  “Why?” asked the ATM. “Just sit on your loot until the heat dies down, and you will be able to sell it for more.”

  “The heat will never die down,” said Mountain Claw. “That was Major Lopez’s armored car I used in the robbery. He’s upset.”

  “I have a solution,” said the ATM. “I’ll give you three million. You take that money and double it by giving it to Guido and betting on Seattle to beat California tonight. The fix is in. You can’t pass up a sure thing.”

  “Are you sure about the fix?” asked Mountain Claw.

  “Absolutely,” said the ATM “Czerinski is betting twenty million, and I am betting my own money too.”

  “How much are you betting?” asked Mountain Claw.

  “Let’s just say I’ll own Bonanno & Associates at the end of the evening,” boasted the ATM.

  * * * * *

  Corporal Wayne borrowed money too, and accompanied Mountain Claw to Guido’s guard shack. Along the way, they met up with Private Knight, and all arrived together.

  “I’m busy,” said Guido, looking up from his paperwork as he took another bet on the phone. “Go away.”

  “Czerinski wants extra patrols on the border,” said Corporal Wayne. “We’re it. Also, we have some bets to make.”

  “I feel safer already,” said Guido. “Well?”

  “Put me down for three million on Seattle,” said Mountain Claw, handing Guido his card.

  “Did you rob a bank?” asked Guido. “The game isn’t fixed like everyone thought. This is a bad bet you are making.”

  “Oh, yes, it is fixed,” said Mountain Claw. “My financial advisor says so.”

  “Whatever,” said Guido, recording the bet.

  “I want seventy thousand on Seattle, too,” said Corporal Wayne.

  “Where are spider legionnaires getting all this cash?” asked Guido.

  “Beg, borrow, steal, or reenlist,” said Corporal Wayne. “What’s it to you?”

  “Don’t get your mandibles all in a twist,” said Guido. “If you want to throw away your money, I have no problem with that. How are your Outlaw Beer commercials doing?”

  “I got fired from that gig,” groused Corporal Wayne. “I kept puking every time they made me drink that dragon piss.”

  “Put me down for a hundred thousand dollars on California,” said Private Knight. “I did good gambling at the casino last night. It was almost like I could see what the dice were going to do before they did it.”

  “You are betting against us?” asked Corporal Wayne. “That’s not right.”

  “I have a real strong feeling California is going to win,” said Private Knight. “Seattle doesn’t have a chance.”

  “How can you be so certain?” asked Corporal Wayne, putting his combat knife to Knight’s throat again. “Where is it written that Seattle can’t win?”

  “Why are you always threatening me with that huge knife?” asked Private Knight. “What did I ever do to you?”

  “Say it’s not written that Seattle has to lose!” demanded Corporal Wayne, drawing a trickle of blood at the point of his knife.

  “Nothing is written!” pleaded Private Knight. “The story can be changed. I don’t even have an agent yet!”

  “What?” asked Corporal Wayne. “Quit babbling and change your bet! Put all your money on Seattle. Say Seattle is going to win!”

  “Okay!” said Private Knight. “Now that I think about it, Seattle is by far the better team. The Mariners should win by a wide margin!”

  “Yes!” said Corporal Wayne, as he removed the knife from Knight’s neck. “That’s better. Go Ms! Now the game is fixed for sure!”

  The Seattle Mariners beat the California Angels 25-3.

  * * * * *

  I watched the game from my personal quarters with Lydia. It was a great game. I knew Seattle would win all along. It must have just been pre-game jitters that made me doubt it. Lydia and I made wild passionate love all night. I think I’m falling for her. I guess I like bad girls, and nurses. As I fell asleep, Lydia slipped away. Better that way, I told myself. No awkward attempts to hide morning breath.

  * * * * *

  As Lydia passed through the corridors, she left doors ajar and unlocked. At the Legion Headquarters entrance, she let Danny Grant and Robert Acosta into the bunker tunnel.

  Grant followed the map Lydia had drawn. With rifles firing, they burst in, blasting away.

  * * * * *

  My bedroom got shot up, but I was not there. Two squads of legionnaires were waiting in ambush at each end of the hallway. Grant and Acosta were easily shot down. Such a disappointing ending for the guy on the beer can. I’ll probably break up with Lydia. She’s not my type anyway, even if she is a nurse.

  * * * * *

  “George and I are getting married,” announced Amanda.

  “George?” I asked. “Do I know George?”

  “He is better known at the Supreme Commander of the New Gobi Desert Military Sector,” explained Amanda. “It was your idea for us to hook up.”

  “You’re fired,” I replied.

  “Oh, sweetie,” said Amanda. “Are you still upset about me borrowing the casino’s money for a day? All’s well that ends well. Right?”

  “No, I’m almost over that,” I answered. “But I can’t have any employee of mine being related to George. It would create a conflict of interest. That, and I hate the fool.”

  “George wants you to be his best man at our wedding,” said Amanda. “He really is quite fond of you.”

  “No, I will not be best man,” I said. “Don’t you know he dislikes you Greens? How could you marry someone like that?”

  “That was just a big misunderstanding,” insisted Amanda. “George is over that sort of male immaturity now. Besides, if he doesn’t measure up during our honeymoon, or if he slips back to his old ways, I have the right to kill him. It’s the law.”

  “That’s a bit extreme,” I commented. “I don’t think that’s legal. But in George’s case I approve. If n
eeded, I’ll help you kill him and dispose of the body.”

  “It is a traditional Arthropodan custom to ensure marital harmony,” said Amanda. “American law and treaty now respects and takes into account Arthropodan culture and customs. That will also be written into the fine print of our marriage contract. Believe it or not, I am just a traditional old-fashioned female.”

  “That’s what you all say,” I commented. “Did you know that in America’s early history, the government used to pay widows’ benefits? Of course, that was before Social Security went broke.”

  “I’ll bet that caused a lot of premature deaths,” replied Amanda. “But it seems fair.”

  “The law was intended to assist poor helpless females,” I explained. “But you babes were not allowed to collect benefits if you killed your husband on the honeymoon for not measuring up.”

  “Did not human pestilence females have equal rights back in the olden days?” asked Amanda. “That is such blatant discrimination. No husband who does not measure up on his honeymoon should be allowed to live!”

  “Let’s change the subject,” I suggested. “I’m still not going to be George’s best man. He can use his military intelligence officer for that.”

  “That snake?” hissed Amanda. “I don’t want him anywhere near my wedding. If nothing else, his mere presence would ruin my wedding photos.”

  “I dislike George,” I said. “I can’t be his best man.”

  “Has anyone ever accused you of holding a grudge for way too long a time?” asked Amanda. “You need to lighten up.”

  “People tell me that all the time. I ignore them too. George can go to hell.”

  “We’ll keep you on our holiday greetings card list anyway. But please reconsider.”

  “I have lost track of how many times George has tried to kill me,” I said. “I may still have to kill him.”

  “George says you two used to play poker all the time,” said Amanda. “He says you used to be good friends. Remember?”

  “George cheats at cards.”

  “Everyone cheats at gambling when they can. Even you. It is not that big a deal.”

  “He’s doesn’t even pay his parking tickets,” I added.

  “Neither do I,” said Amanda.

  “What do you see in him? Are you pregnant?”

  “Not yet. But not for lack of trying.”

  “What then?”

  “My biological clock is ticking,” said Amanda. “It’s not like anyone who could survive my honeymoon has proposed to me lately.”

  “I hope you two find happiness,” I finally relented.

  “How’s your love life?” asked Amanda. “Is there marriage anywhere in your future?”

  “My girlfriend currently has federal felony warrants out for her arrest for twice conspiring with terrorists to kill me,” I said. “You might say my love life isn’t optimal right now. I’m trying to get the charges quashed, but you know what it’s like with domestic violence cases. The court has to find special circumstances before charges can be dropped.”

  “Good luck with that,” said Amanda. “Sometimes you just have to move on. Find some closure.”

  “Exactly,” I agreed. “Okay, fine! I’ll attend your wedding because you are a dear friend. But I will not participate. Someone else can be best man.”

  “I suppose that is progress,” Amanda said, sighing. “Males! You’re always so difficult.”

  “When is the wedding?”

  “As soon as the war is over.”

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  Chapter 21

  The scorpion scout ship beamed into orbit around New Colorado to find out what happened to the First Contact Space Probe. The probe had sent back messages of finding a sparsely populated world, and was in the process of negotiating landing rights when all communications abruptly stopped. The scorpion fleet changed direction, unsure about the situation on the new planet. Now at least the scout ship could advise the fleet what exactly had been found. It looked like a perfect world.

  The scout ship dropped stealthy satellites in orbit. Soon enormous amounts of data flowed to the colonists. The few inhabitants below used crude uncoded communication systems. Intercepts painted a clear picture of what the scorpions would encounter. The scout made a detailed report.

  “Two intelligent species coexist peacefully on our new planet. The first is an exoskeleton species similar to ours. The other is soft and mushy, not like any intelligent species we have ever encountered. Neither dominates the other, a situation quite unique in the entire galaxy. There is strong evidence of a past nuclear war, but the planet is recovering nicely. The radiation spots won’t affect us that much, anyway. It appears that nuclear weapons have been banned from the planet’s surface, although a few can be found in orbit. The only military resistance we will face are local militia-type defense forces. The ‘spiders’ and ‘humans’ maintain just enough military to deter each other from trespassing. There is no evidence of a large space fleet, although there are several fine spaceports on the planet. A space fleet may be stealthed, but I doubt these species possess technology that advanced.”

  “What happened to our First Contact Probe?” interrupted the Scorpion Fleet Commander.

  “Our probe was accidentally destroyed by their crude attempt to manipulate the weather by charging the ionosphere with pulsed energy. Their experiment failed. There will be no need to negotiate landing rights. The planet is ours for the taking. Its few inhabitants are too weak to resist our superior technology.”

  “We will still attempt negotiation before landing,” ordered the Scorpion Fleet Commander. “I doubt this planet is a home world. They have support from somewhere else. You will attempt what our First Contact Probe failed to accomplish.”

  “If the primitives object to our landings, I suppose we can buy them off with trinkets,” replied the scout. “Our advanced technology will be a blessing to them. But there is an entire uninhabited continent rich with natural resources and food supplies. It is administered in a sort of protective guardianship status by a human called ‘Smokey the Bear.’ Smokey’s main duties are to prevent forest fires. He has a few unarmed aides to help. This unclaimed land can easily support our one-billion colonists.”

  “Is there anything on the moon of interest?” asked the Scorpion Fleet Commander.

  As the scout spoke, the United States Galactic Federation Stealth Starship Shenandoah fired a nuclear-tipped smart missile. The scout died before he could sound an alarm. A short time later, an armada of USGF and Arthropodan starships attacked the scorpion fleet from two sides. It was slaughter. The Grim Reaper took many souls. Scorpion survivors dispersed into the vastness of space. They regrouped and resumed their voyage in another less dangerous direction. They swore an oath of vengeance, promising to return to settle accounts.

  ###

  back to top

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Walter Knight

  Walter played football on Tucson High School’s last state championship team (1971). He served three years in the army, and the GI Bill paid for his college education, helping him earn degrees from Fort Steilacoom Community College, Central Washington State College, and the University of Puget Sound School of Law.

  Walter lives a very quiet and private life, residing with his family and horses, dogs, cats, and fish atop a hill in rural Washington. Walt enjoys taking road trips to explore ghost towns and casinos.

  To find out more about Walter Knight and his books, visit his web site.

  www.waltknight.yolasite.com

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  ~COMPLETE LIST OF PENUMBRA PUBLISHING TITLES~

  Don’t miss the other books available now from Penumbra Publishing...

  www.penumbrapublishing.com

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