Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2

by William C. Seigler

  The waiter finished what he had come to the terrace to do and returned to the group at the bar. Denver watched him as he spoke to one of the others, then jerked a thumb toward the terrace. Both glanced in their direction.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” said Argie.

  “They’re awfully quick to jump to conclusions,” offered Smith.

  “Maybe we should finish up and go,” offered Fitz.

  “Maybe we should,” added Mei Ling.

  As they left the restaurant, they could feel the stares. They were surprised to find a detachment of police waiting for them at the hotel.

  “Captain Smith, Lieutenant de la Fuentes, you are to come with me for questioning,” said the policeman in charge. Smith could not help but notice they were armed with short barrel shotguns.

  “What’s this all about?” demanded Fitz.

  “The Prime Minister was shot with a Legion rifle. These officers and one other are the only ones in the city at the time of the assignation.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Fitz.

  “Crazy or not, I am to bring them in for questioning. Does anyone know the whereabouts of Lieutenant Jones?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him since morning,” answered Smith.

  “Come with me, please,” asked the Constable politely.

  * * * *

  Farouk Jones was sitting in a quiet café with Mademoiselle Juliette relaxing over drinks. They had danced the evening away, Juliette preferring more

  old-fashioned dances while Farouk patiently taught her the new dances coming out of Great Britain.

  Suddenly the music stopped. A man was standing on the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have grave news. The Prime Minister has been assassinated, right here in New Town.”

  There were gasps all over the hall, and a loud rumble of voices arose. The music soon started up again, but the dance floor emptied out. Many of the couples began heading for the door. No one was in a festive mood any longer.

  Juliette’s expression looked like someone who had absorbed a personal hurt.

  “What is it?” Farouk asked.

  “I knew the Prime Minister. I had met him at state functions my parents took me to.”

  “What were you doing at state functions? Just who are you, anyway?”

  She retreated behind a smile and said, “I thought we were not going to ask any questions.”

  “Yes, and I’m afraid you’ve already told me more than you intended to.”

  They could hear commotion growing outside. “Word must be getting around. Please, walk me back to my hotel.”

  “Sure,” Farouk answered, and stood to get her light rap. He helped her with her chair and did not notice the policemen at the bar at first. When he looked up, the bartender was pointing at him.

  Juliette noticed them as well as they marched resolutely toward their table. She drew a quick breath. They were armed.

  “Lieutenant Farouk Jones?” the constable asked.

  “Yes, may I help you?”

  “You are wanted for questioning, in the death Prime Minister Boynton.”

  “But I’ve been here all evening with this young lady.”

  The constable turned to Juliette. “May I see your identification?”

  “Of course,” she replied. She reached into her handbag and produced the required card.

  As she handed it to him, Farouk noticed the policeman’s eyebrows shoot up. It was a small card with the edges outlined in red. Farouk could see the other policemen exchange glances.

  “Juliette Peron, is it?” What business have you here?”

  “I have a few days off from my job with the navy and am spending them here at the resort. Why do you ask?”

  “Does your father know?”

  “I don’t know what he knows. He does not approve of my working.”

  “Or of the company you keep?”

  “That, is my business!” she shot back.

  “Yes it is, but you might be a witness to his story. Will you come with me as well, please?”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong,” Juliette insisted.

  “I’m sure of that, but if your …,” he paused a moment. “But if your escort’s story is true and he has been with you all evening, you will need to support or renounce his story. Follow me.”

  With that, they marched out. She could feel the eyes on them, and just barely, she heard a woman say, “What kind of tramp would be seen in public with a monkey.”

  * * * *

  There were sudden loud whispers coming from the entrance. The group near the fireplace scarcely noticed until a man called out loudly, “Oh my god!”

  Schiller turned around, and von Karlstad lowered his drink. The whispers grew louder, and people began rushing around.

  “What has happened?” asked Lee of a passerby.

  The man stopped; his eyes were bulging. “The Prime Minister has been shot.”

  Schiller shot to his feet. “What!”

  “The news has just come in on a jump ship. The Prime Minister was killed while on an inspection trip to New Earth,” he said breathlessly.

  “My god!” said von Karlstad as he rose to his feet followed by Lee. They looked at each other.

  “How?” breathed Schiller. He looked at everybody but von Karlstad.

  “I don’t know,” the guest, a local businessman, said.

  One of Schiller’s backbenchers came running up. “Mr. Schiller, have you heard the news?”

  “Yes, just now. How did it happen?”

  “They found a rifle in a building overlooking a garden party given for the Prime Minister.”

  “A rifle? What rifle?”

  “They found a Legion rifle in a room overlooking the spot where the Prime Minister was killed.”

  “Legion,” whispered Lee in a raspy voice.

  Von Karlstad looked too shocked to speak.

  The backbencher continued. “The Legion is on lockdown. The navy has taken charge of guarding the gate and the armories.”

  “I should go to the office,” said von Karlstad eventually.

  “What good will that do?” asked Lee.

  “I need to be brought up to date on what the navy is doing. This is going to put a strain on our manpower situation. I may have to move some resources around.”

  As the Admiral left the room, he heard a woman say in a loud voice, “Now their monkeys have turned on us. What will we do if they come after us?”

  Chapter 5 - The Trap is Laid

  Wolfgang Schiller, MP, sat at his desk reading the reports his secretary brought him concerning the Prime Minister’s assassination. In just a few minutes, he would take to the floor of Parliament. He was ready, coldly ready. This plot launched by the blackest of human sins, jealousy, and hate, was playing out as he predicted, and he was about to take the stage in act two. He arose and headed to his seat in the chamber.

  After Parliament was called to order, he rose to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is a black day in our history. Never before has anything like this happened. Never before has a political assassination been perpetrated since our ancestors first separated themselves from the rest of mankind.

  “It was to escape just this sort of reprehensible act that they left the rest of the humanity, and might I add, we have made great strides at perfecting the human race. We have left their wars, their corruption, their rulers, and set out to claim the seas of Earth and the planets of the solar system. Now we have laid claim to the planets of another star system.”

  There was brief applause. He continued, “No course of action is without risk. Our ancestors knew this, but they marched resolutely onward into the future, a future that has brought us peace and plenty.

  “Then we ran into a terrible, intractable enemy, huge creatures that look like something from a ch
ild’s nightmare, and find ourselves, along with our allies, in a fight for our very survival.”

  “To be wiped out completely, to go extinct as rational beings, that is the gravity of the problem facing us. One can forgive mistakes under such conditions. However, I maintain that forming this Legion of scum from the surface of the Earth, has led us to a predictable outcome!” his voice rising to a crescendo.

  There were cheers along with howls of indignation. The Chairman gaveled the proceeding back to order.

  Schiller took a drink of water and let the noise die down. “We picked them up from the dregs of what passed for civilization on the surface world, weeded out all but the best, gave them the best equipment, and training possible, allowed them to participate in the deliverance of mankind, and this is how they repay us!”

  The hall erupted into pandemonium, but the cheers and applause outweighed the heckling. There was scuffling and shoving in the gallery. The Chairman banged his gavel.

  “Order, order,” he commanded. “Would the Sargent at Arms restore order to the house?”

  It took a few minutes. Then Schiller continued.

  “There is a new development, many of you may have heard rumored. It is with the greatest pleasure that I report the details of Admiral von Karlstad’s stunning victory over our adversary.”

  The hall fell silent. “On the twenty-fifth of this last month, special elements of our navy launched an attack on a world taken by force from our allies, the peaceful Greys. The assault was carried out with a new attack-fighter designed by a team led by Admiral von Karlstad. The new spacecraft is the Messerschmitt, Me 147. It is a two-man attack-fighter with advanced missiles similar to the type used on the Admiral’s successful mission to rescue the Greys. As you know, it was one of his modified small craft used in rescue mission. This new spacecraft is even smaller, making it cheaper and faster to construct.

  “Knowledge derived from that mission was used to develop the 147’s arsenal of missiles and perfect the tactics of the unit that carried out the assault. The enemy was completely annihilated without any losses whatsoever to our forces. I believe that our navy has proven its ability to fight and win this war without help from - let us say, undesirables.”

  He waited for the applause to wind down. “After two deployments of this so-called Star Legion, we have nothing to show for it. It has required our navy to come to its rescue each time it has been deployed.”

  This last was not true, but so what.

  “I recommend two things. First, we ask the Admiralty for a full evaluation of these new attack fighters, the tactics employed, and industry’s ability to provide the craft and its armament.”

  Von Karlstad, who was sitting down front, thought to himself, this should keep Parliament tied up for a while and out of my hair.

  “Secondly,” continued Schiller, “it is my belief that the assassination of our Prime Minister was but a prelude to a coup d’état by the Legion and must be fully investigated. Thank you.” He sat down.

  The Parliamentarians were all shouting and talking at the same time. The Chairman attempted to gavel the body back to order.

  * * * *

  “I commend you, Wolfe, on that speech. I think it will do the trick.”

  “It is I who should be commending you. You led the design of the Me 147, developed its tactics, and destroyed a Reptilian held world.”

  “Thank you, but one must admit, it was a great speech.”

  “It was rather, wasn’t it?” said Schiller.

  “Too bad about the Prime Minister,” added von Karlstad.

  “Yes, it was unfortunate, but come on, be honest, what would you expect from the vilest form of humanity? It is difficult to believe that they are really human.” Schiller shook as if chilled.

  “Yes, I know how you feel. Now the Legion has lost its strongest supporter.”

  “And you have shown it to be unnecessary,” added Schiller.

  “Still, what did they hope to accomplish?”

  “To rule us I suppose, or take our technology back to the surface, which would lead to our complete destruction, even if we could hold off the Reptilians.”

  “They have sealed their own fate,” added von Karlstad. “The only question now is what to do with them?”

  “I’m for dumping the whole bloody lot back on Earth,” answered Schiller. He must not let even von Karlstad know what he had in mind, at least not yet.

  “Well, it’s not my decision. I’m glad to leave that sort of thing to Parliament.”

  “Yes, to Parliament,” responded Schiller as he lifted his glass.

  “But you know the arguments against that.”

  “Yes, but it places us in a precarious position,” added Schiller.

  The two old friends sat and sipped their drinks in silence for a few moments in the finely appointed living room of Schiller’s apartment.

  Looking at the ceiling, Schiller began slowly, as if speaking off the top of his head. “I wonder if there is another world, they can be dumped off on. That would solve several problems at once.”

  “How do you mean?” asked von Karlstad.

  “We wouldn’t have to worry about any of our technology reaching Earth’s governments, nor would we have to worry about the monkeys overrunning us.”

  “Do you really think they were planning a coup?” inquired von Karlstad.

  “I have nothing definite, but indications are that something is brewing,” lied Schiller. “Look at the way they just up and decided the rifle we provided them was not good enough. How did they get the wherewithal to produce rifles, especially in the numbers required?

  “If they decide to attack the naval base across the field, will the navy be able to stop the attack? How many men would we lose, even if we could hold?” continued Schiller.

  “We can’t afford to lose any,” answered von Karlstad.

  “No, we can’t. This Legion could be our undoing. Do you see the danger they are to us?”

  “Yes of course.” Von Karlstad slowly rubbed his chin. He was thinking of where to move the Legion. It seems he had seen a report on a planet that might just do, but it was too near the enemy to be safe. He would have to check and get back to Schiller.

  Von Karlstad’s com chimed, and he looked at it. Something had just come in on a jump ship. “It seems that the rifles of the Legion are all accounted for.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes, no rifle is missing.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Schiller.

  “Quite. The navy has carefully cataloged each weapon.”

  “Then where did the rifle come from?” asked Schiller.

  “That, we do not know as yet.”

  “Is there any progress on finding who committed this crime?”

  “The local constable has three people in custody,” von Karlstad said as he scrolled down the information on his com. “Now that’s interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?”

  “The three people are the same ones moved over to navy Intel. Denver Smith is one of them.”

  “Good god!” cried Schiller. “Smith was in on this?”

  “I always suspected that down-earther was too good to be true.”

  “Have they confessed?”

  “No,” answered von Karlstad. “They are just being questioned. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

  “I’m afraid the population has already jumped to conclusions,” mused Schiller.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only that people have already come to the conclusion that the Legion is responsible for the murder,” answered Schiller.

  “Well, aren’t they? Who else would do such a thing?”

  Once again, Schiller lied, “I don’t know.”

  * * * *

  “It’s no use darling,” said Fitz gently. “
They won’t let me near them. I’ve informed Admiral La Force, he’s driving out in the morning.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Mei Ling. “I know they are your friends.”

  “I think I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

  She continued, “I like them too, even though I didn’t think I would.”

  He looked at her surprised but did not speak.

  “They are good people. They were with us or at least waiting for us when, when it happened. They could not have done it,” she said.

  “No, and neither could Farouk. He has spent all his time with his new lady friend. We need to find her.”

  “Yes, what was her name?” asked Mei Ling.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Perhaps the Admiral can find out.”

  “Besides, there was no motive,” added Fitz.

  “I don’t think anyone is asking these questions. They see what they want to see. What are we going to do?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Under the circumstances, I don’t know if we should move forward with the wedding.”

  His eyes grew large. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” he said.

  She smiled faintly. “I don’t want to give you time to reconsider.”

  “There is nothing to reconsider. I want you for my wife.”

  “I think I’ll take the job,” she said squirming down under his shoulder a bit more.

  “You’ll take the job, huh?”

  She looked up. “But let’s not kid ourselves. I wouldn’t be much of a celebration under the present circumstances.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. You willing to stand by until we can dig this down a layer or two?” he asked.

  “I think it best, but I’ll have to come up with an excuse to stay here. That means finding work.”

  “You can stay with me.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir; I have my reputation to consider. Besides, I like to pay my own way.”

  Fitz lifted her chin up and bent over to her as she stretched up to his mouth. She put her arm around the back of his neck, and they kissed deep and full and complete.

  After several minutes he spoke. “Okay, there is always a shortage of people. I’ll see what the navy has that you might like.”