America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 3: Silent Invasion (7 page)

“Yes,” said the Team Leader. “Alfonso will
get me my identification. Do you think he will be here soon?”

“He’s here now,” said the human deputy. “I
saw him go in the back door as we pulled up. I’ll tell Bonanno
you’re here waiting for him. What is your name?”

The Team Leader hesitated, looking around for
inspiration. “My name is … Kraft Cheese.”

“Whatever,” said the spider deputy. “The next
time you hang out up front, conceal your weapons better. Your
showing off like that makes us look bad.”

The deputies then went through a door at the
back of the pizza parlor. A waitress handed the Team Leader the
bill. The Team Leader sprayed her with a short burst of nerve
agent. She dropped to the floor. #97 did the same to the two cooks.
Other commandos sprayed several customers. They would all wake up
tomorrow with bad headaches.

The two deputy sheriffs and three Mafioso
burst through a swinging door at the rear of the parlor with their
guns drawn. They died in a hail of automatic gunfire from the
spider commandos. The Team Leader examined the bodies, kicking the
nearest. “I am not sure, but this one looks like Alfonso Bonanno.
What do you think?”

“The human pestilence all look alike to me,”
said #97. “I think we need to get out of here fast.”

The Team Leader ignored the warning and
rifled through their pockets. Finally he found identification
belonging to Alfonso Bonanno. “Our mission is to make arrests and
interrogate the suspects,” said the Team Leader. “This will not
do.”

“More police just arrived,” shouted #88.
“What do we do now?”

“Shoot our way out,” answered the Team
Leader. “We will try the back door first.”

As #97 stepped out the back door, he was
killed by a shotgun blast. The Team Leader peeked around the
doorway. A deputy sheriff fired another blast at him as he ducked
back inside. The Team leader tossed a grenade out the door. #88 was
firing his assault rifle out the front door. A sheriff’s sniper
killed him with a bullet to the head.

“This is the police! You are surrounded! Come
out with your hands up, and you will not be harmed!” promised a
deputy sheriff sergeant over a loud speaker.

The Team Leader sat down at a table to finish
his beer and pizza. One of his commandos called out to him. “Do we
surrender?” asked Commando #72. “What are your instructions?”

The Team Leader glanced at the two dead
deputy sheriffs on the floor. “Surrender if you want to,” he said.
“But, I think we are going to die tonight, no matter what we do.
First, I am going to finish this marvelous meal.”

#72 threw a grenade out the front door. After
the explosion, automatic gunfire blew out windows and ripped
through the building. A shard of glass struck #72 in the neck. He
sank to the floor and died. Commando #64, standing next to him,
threw his rifle out the front door. “I surrender,” yelled #64. “Do
not shoot. I am coming out.” As #64 stepped outside he was shot and
killed.

That left just the Team Leader and a
sergeant. By now the Team leader had finished his meal and was
washing the pizza down with beer. He got up and walked to the front
door. “We have eight hostages!” yelled the Team Leader. “Stop
shooting, or they all die! I want to surrender!”

“We have orders not to surrender,” said the
sergeant. “We are to take poison first.”

“Go ahead and take your poison pill,” said
the Team Leader. “You first.”

“My orders are to make sure you poison
yourself rather than surrender,” said the sergeant. “I insist you
go first.”

The Team Leader casually picked up an assault
rifle and shot the sergeant. Then he changed clothes with the dead
spider deputy sheriff. He smeared blood all over his face. The ruse
worked. When the Sheriff’s Office Fast Action Response Team
(F.A.R.T.) finally entered the pizza parlor, they immediately put
the Team Leader in an ambulance headed for the nearest hospital.
The Team Leader easily escaped from the ambulance while en
route.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Lopez and the Special Forces
Commander sat in a rented car on the street outside Carlos
Bonanno’s mansion. The plan was to wait for Bonanno to come out,
follow him, and ambush Bonanno at the first opportunity. More
Commandos waited in cars parked down the road on Elvis Street.
Through a scope, Lieutenant Lopez could see activity in front of
the home. Carlos Bonanno, his wife, two children, and bodyguards
were getting into the limousine and a trail car. It was right at
dusk when they emerged on the street and sped away.

The commando team followed at a discrete
distance. The Bonanno limousine pulled into the parking lot of a
downtown pizza parlor. A police car was parked out front. Soon more
police cars arrived, blue lights flashing.

“Team #2 must have made their hit, but they
are not answering their radio,” reported the Special Forces
Commander. “Maybe something went wrong.”

“Or maybe they will report in later,” said
Lieutenant Lopez. “We will back off for now. We don’t want a
gunfight with the local police.”

The police had arrived quicker than
expected,
thought Lieutenant Lopez.
How did that happen?
What went wrong?
As they drove by, he glanced at the large new
building next to the pizza parlor. The sign out front said, ‘New
Memphis Sheriff’s Office.’

Lopez aborted the mission to kidnap Carlos
Bonanno and his associates. Bonanno would be alert for trouble now.
Future missions would just involve snipers.

* * * * *

“This is Phil Coen, World News Tonight, with
breaking news from New Memphis. A gun battle broke out at Bonanno’s
Pizza Parlor, located right next to the Sheriff’s Office. Nine are
confirmed dead, including two veteran sheriff’s deputies, four
gunmen, the owner Alfonso Bonanno, and two associates. Sheriff Mike
Murphy theorizes his two deputies walked in on a robbery and got
caught in crossfire. The gunmen, all spiders, used military assault
rifles and grenades against deputies responding immediately to the
scene from Dunkin’ Donuts across the street. One spider suspect is
still at large. He may be severely wounded.

“In other local news, sheriff’s deputies
stopped and detained Foreign Legion Lieutenant Manny Lopez and
about twenty Arthropodan marines at a checkpoint just outside of
town. After a brief but intense standoff, the highly decorated war
hero was released after his commanding officer, Captain Joey R.
Czerinski, verified by radio that Lopez and the spider marines were
on joint patrols to combat banditry along our newly established
borders.

“Just this week negotiators passed a
resolution calling for the Legion and the Arthropodan military to
coordinate efforts to fight bandit gangs that take advantage of
jurisdictional problems along the border. Captain Czerinski, who is
currently in the field because of increased tensions in a disputed
border area of the North, hopes more such joint operations can
cement lasting spider/human working relationships and harmony.
General Kalipetsis, reached by phone at his headquarters in Camp
Alaska, said this is proof of improving USGF and Arthropodan
relations, and a desire by both sides for a lasting peace.

“As you all know, USGF and Arthropodan
relations have been severely strained, not only because of numerous
border disputes, but also by the ghastly nuclear explosion aboard
an Arthropodan Command Ship in orbit around New Colorado. The
Arthropodan Fleet Commander has accused the Legion of possible
involvement in that disaster and for the mysterious loss of supply
ships in the area. The Legion denies involvement, but the Fleet
Commander says he suspects the Legion is using a new stealth
starship to raid Arthropodan shipping.

“Today on Arthropoda, several spider postal
workers were arrested as part of a conspiracy to mail the nuke that
destroyed the Arthropodan Command Ship. The case broke when
Arthropodan Intelligentsia investigators found large deposits of
dollars and credits in the bank accounts of several postal workers.
When interrogated, all suspects confessed to involvement in a
larger conspiracy. Further arrests are expected.

“The Fleet Commander says that investigators
have cleared the Legion of any wrongdoing in the case. The
Commander says he is relieved that a dark cloud of suspicion no
longer hangs over negotiations.

“Asked if it was more Green terrorists, the
Fleet Commander said that possibility is being investigated, but he
doubts it. He said possible links to organized crime have been
found. That statement in and of itself is newsworthy because
Arthropodan authorities have never acknowledged that they might
have an organized crime problem. For years there has been
speculation that organized crime on Arthropoda and Earth are
linked. Asked to comment on that speculation, General Kalipetsis
said that the Mafia never made it past Mars, and that they were all
thrown out an airlock.”

* * * * *

I rode at the head of a tank column past the
disputed oil fields. The Fleet Commander had said the boundary
markers in the area were wrong, and that he blamed the Legion for
the deaths of a missing survey team. He threatened to take the area
by force. We met a column of Arthropodan tanks on a winding dirt
road just west of the oil fields. That was a surprise because the
spiders were forbidden by treaty from landing heavy armor on New
Colorado. My tank and the lead spider tank stopped about one inch
apart, facing each other.

“It is a violation of our treaty and the
spirit of ongoing negotiations for the Arthropodan military to have
tanks and armored cars on New Colorado,” I said, using my loud
speaker. “You will surrender your armor immediately.”

“I will not,” replied the spider tank
commander, as he popped up out of his turret. “The treaty says the
Arthropodan military will not import armored vehicles or tanks to
New Colorado. We may have brought down some spare parts, but these
tanks were manufactured right here on New Colorado by the locals.
Technically, there is no violation of the treaty!”

“If you expect me to believe that, I suppose
you’re going to tell me you have some beach-front property in
Arizona to sell me, too?” I asked.

“I have never been to the beach,” replied the
spider tank commander. “Our land is not, nor will it ever be, for
sale.”

My tank driver, Corporal Williams, looked out
past the front of his tank. Only about an inch separated the two
tanks. He was upset.

“If you had so much as scratched a small chip
of paint off my tank, I would have beaten you within an inch of
your life, boy!” he shouted, staring at his opposite in the spider
tank.

The spider tank then lurched forward,
jostling and climbing up on the Legion tank front before bouncing
back into place. Hot coffee from Corporal Williams’ cup spilt all
over his vest. Williams got out of the tank and inspected the large
scratch mark left across the white American star painted on the
front. He was furious. “You will pay for that,” said Corporal
Williams. “If it is the last thing I do, I will hunt you down!” In
frustration, Williams smashed his coffee cup on the turret of the
spider tank. A black stain dribbled down the side.

“You human pestilence need to be taught
humility,” said the spider tank driver, climbing out of the
tank.

“It won’t be by you,” sneered Corporal
Williams. “I have eaten your kind.”

“The sooner you human pestilence are
exterminated, the better!” replied the spider tank driver. He
urinated over the side of his tank onto the Legion tank.

“You bugs have no redeeming qualities,”
commented Corporal Williams, shaking his head. He looked up at me
for permission to kill the spider driver. I shook my head,
indicating ‘no’ clearly. Corporal Williams then took off his helmet
and smashed it against a searchlight mounted on the spider tank
turret. Glass shattered everywhere.

The spider tank commander jumped down from
his turret and shoved Corporal Williams off the tank. The tank
commander then gazed at my tank, looking for something to break.
The American flag fluttered in the breeze. With sudden inspiration,
the tank commander leapt to the Legion tank and reached for the
flag. I drew my pistol and cocked back the hammer as I aimed it at
the spider. “That is not going to happen!” I said.

By now, other legionnaires and Arthropodan
marines were standing by the tank. They all aimed their weapons,
too. Sergeant Green pulled his armored car alongside my tank and
aimed the mounted machine gun. Tank turrets adjusted their cannon
and missile launch elevations to point-blank target range. The
spider tank commander took it all in, then jumped back to his own
tank.

“For now, this is the new border,” the spider
tank commander announced. Spider marines immediately went to work.
They posted new border markers, deployed their tanks in a wide
defensive position, put up tents and prefab buildings, and strung
fence wire. We made camp, too.

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Contents

Chapter 6

Late at night, Corporal George Rambo
Washington and Private John Iwo Jima Wayne dressed in Arthropodan
marine uniforms and slipped into the spiders’ camp. Wayne wore
officer’s insignia. Both legionnaires being spiders, they did not
draw much attention. Washington and Wayne carried explosives in
their backpacks. As they went from tank to tank, they attached
timed charges on the engine and turret of each spider tank. At the
last tank, they were finally challenged.

“Halt! What are you doing?” asked a team
leader, looking down from his turret. “What is a Green doing in my
tank’s engine?”

“You will salute and address me as sir,”
ordered Private Wayne. “Do you understand?”