America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 2: Reenlistment

by Walter Knight

  “Who is the ranking spider?” asked Captain Norris.

  “I am Dragon Leader #7,” said a spider, stepping forward. “You human pestilence will all die. God is with us.” The other spiders cheered.

  “You let one legionnaire capture you,” said Captain Norris. “You don’t seem so tough.”

  “Tough enough,” said the dragon leader, as he spit on Captain Norris.

  Captain Norris drew his pistol and struck the dragon leader in the face, knocking him to the ground. The other spiders pressed forward.

  “Fix bayonets,” ordered Sergeant Green to his squad. They forced the agitated spider prisoners back against the cell blocks. The spiders in the cell blocks were now yelling and throwing debris. Someone lit a blanket on fire.

  “We need to separate these prisoners and interrogate them one at a time,” suggested Sergeant Mendoza, sensing they were losing control. “It is more effective that way.”

  As the dragon leader picked himself up, he drew a large combat knife and slashed Captain Norris across the forearm and chest. Captain Norris just stood there in disbelief. Blood stained his uniform. Sergeant Mendoza shot the dragon leader several times. A grenade was thrown at Captain Norris from the crowd of newly captured spiders. It exploded, throwing Captain Norris into the air. Sergeant Green’s squad opened fire, killing all twenty-seven prisoners. Several legionnaire and spider guards went down. Prisoners in the cell blocks threw grenades and fired pistols, forcing the legionnaires to retreat from the cell block area.

  * * * * *

  The explosions and small arms fire were the signal the captive Arthropodan soldiers had been waiting for. A sergeant grabbed one of the common criminals and hung him by the neck from a light fixture. Then he yelled to a spider guard down the hall that someone was attempting suicide. They all yelled and pleaded for the guard to do something. The spider guard, already wary because of the sound of fighting in another part of the prison, refused to go inside the cell block. He ordered the prisoners to get the hanging spider down. However, as the guard watched, he got too close to the bars. The sergeant grabbed the guard and pulled him in close to be gutted. After obtaining the keys, the sergeant released the cell block inmates and led his spider soldiers down the hallway to the armory.

  * * * * *

  The Lion of the Forest and three hundred freedom fighters dug their way up into the prison cell block area, only to find a battle already in progress. He was amazed to find the Legion already in retreat. The Lion of the Forest deployed his heavily armed fighters to strategic strong points. Machine guns and anti-tank missiles were put to good use. They had the advantage of commanding the high ground. The retreating legionnaires still were not safe, even after their retreat to the perimeter, because of spider snipers. A column of armored cars entered the prison gates and was quickly destroyed by anti-tank missiles. It appeared that in a few minutes the insurgents would overwhelm the Legion positions.

  * * * * *

  Lieutenant Lopez and I entered the prison gates with a column of armored cars. We thought we were arriving to assist with a press release for Guido. The Legion had a new hero, and his promotion and medal ceremony was going to be broadcast on TV. An anti-tank missile struck the first armored car. Flames forced its evacuation. We returned fire with cannon and mounted machine guns, but were forced back when another armored car was hit.

  “Hell of a way to run a prison,” said Lieutenant Lopez, as we jumped out of our burning armored car and ducked behind a wall.

  I radioed to the T. Roosevelt Space Weapons Platform. “I need air support! The spiders have seized the entire Disneyland prison. We have lost at least two armored cars to anti-tank missiles and are outnumbered. The situation is dire.”

  The T Roosevelt used its space cannon to drop 500 pound bombs on the prison. Helicopter gunships rocketed the prison, followed by fighter jets dropping napalm. A tank was used to secure the front gate. Its cannon fired into the upper cell block areas. I poked my head over a wall for a look. Plenty of spiders were still shooting back. The prison walls were too thick to do much damage to the spider positions. They kept shooting, then ducking behind thick walls or back to the tunnels.

  I asked air support to drop bunker-busting bombs. These bombs would burrow deep into the ground and bunkers before exploding. They had immediate effect. One of the bombs was accidentally dropped on our tank at the front gate, causing more confusion.

  * * * * *

  By the second day, the surface buildings of the prison had been reduced to rubble by continuous bombardment. The spiders still controlled the underground areas and would pop up and shoot at anyone who moved. We brought in another tank. I followed the tank with a platoon. We planted an American flag on top of the great mound of rubble, but the spiders still fought on from the tunnels.

  I radioed the T Roosevelt again. “We are inside the prison again with another tank,” I reported. “Stop bombing. We only have one tank left, and we don’t need you wrecking that one too.”

  “Sorry about that,” said the new cannon specialist. “There must have been a miscommunication. It was the air force, not me, that hit your tank.”

  “Where is Sergeant Mendoza?” I asked. “Mendoza usually operates the space cannon.”

  “Sergeant Mendoza should be down there with you,” replied the cannon specialist.

  “Oh. I’ll look for him,” I said. “He is probably on the other side of the prison.”

  “There is some good news. You should now have cell phone service to Disneyland,” said the cannon specialist. “Is there anyone there you need to contact for supply or re-enforcements?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact there is,” I said, entering the number on my cell phone.

  “Good afternoon, Pizza Hut,” answered a young spider. “How may I help you today?”

  “I want to order five hundred extra-large pepperoni and sausage pizzas,” I said. “Put it on my card. Do you deliver?”

  “We most certainly do,” said the young spider. “And we also guarantee hot delivery.”

  “Oh hell no,” said Sergeant Green. “I do not eat pork.”

  “You aren’t Muslim, are you?” I asked.

  “Get real,” responded Sergeant Green. “Pork makes me deathly ill.”

  “I want to change that order,” I said to Pizza Hut. “Make that 499 extra large pepperoni and sausage pizzas and one vegetarian pizza with extra cheese.”

  “Do you want mushrooms?” asked the spider.

  “No. I hate mushrooms,” I said. “And I want five hundred large bottles of Coke.”

  “Sorry, we don’t have Coke,” advised the spider. “Is Pepsi okay?”

  “Fine,” I said. “Deliver my order to the front gate of the prison.”

  “The prison?” asked the young spider. “I have been hearing loud explosions all day coming from your direction. There have been rumors of a riot from the conveys of troops passing by. Is it safe?”

  “Oh sure,” I said. “You know those air force geeks. They are always practicing blowing something up. Sometimes it keeps us awake at night.”

  “Well okay, if you say everything is alright,” said the spider. “Let me just say that Pizza Hut appreciates your large order.”

  When the pizza truck arrived, I gave the driver a big tip. I mentioned I was worried the insurgents had mined the road, but obviously not, since he got through. “We were starving out here,” I told the delivery spider. “You have probably heard what happens when humans get hungry. We will eat anyone.”

  “I have to go now,” said the delivery spider, running back to his truck. “I quit this job! It’s not worth it for minimum wage!”

  The bombing stopped so we could finish lunch. Lieutenant Lopez offered pizza to any spider who came out of the tunnels and surrendered. None did. At 1600 we started throwing grenades down spider holes and using a flamethrower to burn them out.

  “What we need is a nuke,” I said to myself.

  “Nuke?” asked Private Tonelli. “I k
now where there is a nuke. I could give it to you.”

  “They might consider nuking rioters a bit excessive,” commented Lieutenant Lopez.

  “I don’t see much difference,” said Tonelli, looking out at the destruction.

  “It’s good to see you, Guido,” I said. “When this is over, you and I are going to have a long talk. Go help Private Williams and Sergeant Green throw grenades down spider holes.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Tonelli as he left.

  * * * * *

  By the third day, it was clear the spiders were not coming out, no matter what we did to them. Even gas had no effect. Finally, engineers redirected a nearby irrigation ditch to flood the prison underground. No spiders survived. They all drowned except for the Lion of the Forest and a few terrorists. They returned to Disneyland through the tunnels.

  About eight hundred spider bodies were recovered. Most of our losses were spider guards. At the outset, legionnaires had retreated to safety and were saved by the quickness of the air support. Captain Norris’ body was recovered. It had been booby-trapped with a grenade. Sergeant Mendoza was still listed as missing in action, presumed dead and buried in the rubble.

  * * * * *

  “This is Phill Coen, World News Tonight, broadcasting live from the deadly prison riot at Disneyland, on the planet of New Colorado. Sources tell me that over eight hundred prisoners were killed when the Legion retook the prison. No prisoners survived. About sixty legionnaires and spider guards were killed or wounded. First we will be talking to the ranking officer on the scene, Captain Joey R. Czerinski.”

  “Hello Phil,” I said. “Long time no see.”

  “Captain Czerinski, this appears to be another massacre. You have been accused of massacre before,” commented Coen. “I believe the spiders still call you the Butcher of New Colorado.”

  “That is unfair,” I said, agitated. “We almost got wiped out when the battle began.”

  “At the very least, some would say that you used disproportionate force to quell the prison riot,” said Coen. “You used tanks, armored cars, artillery, jet fighter bombers, helicopter gunships, and the strategic bombing platform of the T. Roosevelt starship. There is even a rumor you discussed using a nuke. How do you justify using that much firepower?”

  “The prisoners had grenades, mortars, anti-tank weapons, and machine guns,” I answered. “They almost overran our positions. We had no choice but to call in the big guns.”

  “The war has been over for quite some time, yet half the prisoners were still just plain Arthropodan soldiers waiting to be repatriated,” said Coen. “Why would these spiders be so desperate as to riot?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Captain Norris, the prison warden, would be more familiar with the prison living conditions, but he was murdered at the beginning of the battle.”

  “How do you think this many spider deaths will affect future U.S.G.F. relations with Arthropoda?” asked Coen. “Aren’t relations already strained?”

  “Whatever,” I said. “Hopefully the spiders have learned that another cowardly surprise attack will be dealt with harshly by the Legion.”

  “Sources say the riot started when Captain Norris pistol-whipped a new spider detainee in front of the whole prison population,” said Coen. “Is that true?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But, I doubt it. The riot was not caused by Captain Norris. It was caused by rioters.”

  “How can you explain that no prisoners survived?” asked Coen.

  “At the end, we drove the spiders into the tunnels underground the fort,” I explained. “They all died when we flooded the underground.”

  “Did you try to negotiate with the prisoners?” asked Coen. “Was there any attempt to establish a line of communications with the prisoners? Isn’t that procedure in all prison riot situations?”

  “The minute I drove my armored car through the prison gates, the car was destroyed by an anti-tank rocket. There was no time for negotiations. I was pinned down against that wall over there by machine gun fire and mortars.”

  “No time?” asked Coen. “Isn’t it true you had time to order and eat five hundred pizzas from Pizza Hut?”

  “Lieutenant Lopez offered the spiders pizza if they would surrender, but none would come out of their holes,” I explained.

  “So, one of your junior officers did try to negotiate with the prisoners?” asked Coen. He looked around and recognized Lieutenant Lopez walking by. “Lieutenant Lopez, do you have any comments about what happened here today?”

  “No habla English,” replied Lieutenant Lopez. “Go fuck yourself.”

  * * * * *

  Private George Rambo Washington, the first spider legionnaire, drove our only remaining armored car back to Disneyland. It was a treat for Private Washington because he had never driven a human vehicle before. I doubt he could get a civilian driver’s license. His driving was scary. Even scarier were his thoughts. I could read his mind with the chip Guido had sold me. Private Washington kept thinking about running other drivers off the road. He obviously suffered from road rage.

  As much of the company as possible was piled into the back the armored car. I rode up front. As we entered the outskirts of Disneyland, Private Tonelli began yelling about a house we had passed. He said it was one of the safe houses that he had been held in. We circled around the block. I noticed a video camera mounted on the roof above the front porch. I ordered Private Washington to drive through the front wall at fifty miles per hour and warned everyone in the back to hang on. A spider guard in the front room was killed instantly by the crash impact.

  Sergeant Green led legionnaires in a room-by-room search of the house. In a bedroom we found a spider that Guido’s dragon had killed. Guido also showed us the entrance to the tunnel in the living room. We dropped a few grenades down the tunnel and radioed in for the engineers to destroy the place later. Private Washington stepped out onto the back porch to check the yard. He noticed what looked like another trap door. A rug only partially concealed another spider hole. Perhaps the occupant had closed the door so fast, he was not able to get the rug completely over the door. Private Washington pulled the rug away and threw open the trap door, revealing a spider hole.

  A lone occupant called out, “Don’t shoot. I will throw out my pistol. I am the Lion of the Forest. I surrender. You will be quite a hero for capturing someone as important as me. You will be promoted. I can give you information about the insurgency. I order you to take me to Czerinski.”

  Private Washington pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it into the hole. The explosion made a mess of the Lion of the Forest, but his remains were later positively identified from DNA.

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  CHAPTER 6

  General Kalipetsis came to Disneyland to talk to me in private. He had the room scanned for listening devices before dismissing his aides-de-camp and ordering Lieutenant Lopez to leave.

  “I got an interesting E-mail,” started General Kalipetsis. “It is from the Lion of the Forest.”

  “The Lion is dead,” I commented. “He died heroically.”

  “I know, but I will read the E-mail to you anyway,” said General Kalipetsis. “Dear General Kalipetsis: If you are reading this message I am dead and my cause is lost. Congratulations. My Emperor abandoned me and the Legion defeated me. I am not bitter. What galls me is the thought of Czerinski gloating over my corpse. So, I am reaching out from the grave to snatch the big prize from Czerinski. As you know, Czerinski stole a prototype Formicidaen starship from our joint custody. Later Czerinski claimed the starship was destroyed during the Formicidaen War. He lied. The starship is buried in a cavern far below the ruins of Czerinski’s burned-out casino on the DMZ. I hope the scoundrel goes to prison. My time is gone. Bury me upside down so Czerinski can kiss my ass.”

  “That is quite an E-mail,” I said. “The Lion of the Woods is a very vindictive spider.”

  “Initial seismic tests
indicate there is a cavern deep below your old casino,” said General Kalipetsis. “Before I go to all the trouble of secretly excavating under your property, you need to tell me the truth. Did you hide that starship under your casino?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “But I stole the starship to deny it from the spiders. History proved I was right that the spiders cannot be trusted. I am vindicated.”

  “Maybe,” said General Kalipetsis. “But you also stole the starship from the United States. We could have used that starship in the last war. And you kept the starship for personal gain.”

  “You are thinking about arresting and charging me?” I asked. “You will not dare do that. The stealth technologies in that prototype starship are invaluable. Its secret possession will give the United States Galactic Federation a distinct strategic advantage over our alien neighbors. If you charge me and put me on trial, the secret will be out.”

  “I may try you in secret and throw you out an airlock,” said General Kalipetsis. “Treason is a serious matter.”

  “I used that starship to destroy the Formicidaen Empire,” I argued. “I even was awarded a medal for my initiative.”

  “Okay, you have made some good points,” said General Kalipetsis as he stood up. “I came here to resolve this matter, not to arrest you.”

  “This conversation is not over,” I said. “Sit down. I have business partners to settle up with. I want to be compensated for giving the Shenandoah to you.”

  “You aren’t giving it to me,” said General Kalipetsis. “The United States is taking rightful possession of the Shenandoah.”