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"The masks are for security reasons," said the Emperor of the North. "Of course I am proud of what we did today. This is a great moment for our cause." The Emperor of the North walked over to the video camera mounted on a tripod. He adjusted the focus until he seemed satisfied.
"You are a professional soldier?" asked Singh. "How did you get mixed up with these murderers? I can tell you are not of their ilk."
"I am a murderer, too," said G.E. "Do not think I will save you or feel guilt about your execution."
"I do not want to die," said Singh. "But I will not beg for my life. What did I ever do to you?"
Bright lights came on. The video filming started. The broadcast was live over planetary cable TV. The Emperor of the North tossed his mask aside and stood next to Singh. G.E. stood on the other side of Singh.
"Today the North Colorado Liberation Army will execute criminal Ralph Gobind Singh in retaliation for the Disneyland Prison Ma.s.sacre," announced the Emperor of the North, reading from a prepared statement. "I am the Emperor of the North. This is General Electric. Together we will drive the human pestilence out of New Colorado. As I speak, the Legion is being slaughtered in the streets of Finisterra. The human pestilence, lead by the criminal Singh, has stolen the riches of New Colorado from its rightful owners. The North Colorado Liberation Army will take back what the human pestilence has stolen and establish an independent country for all spiders. The execution of the criminal Singh will prove our resolve and will set an example for what will happen to human pestilence who stay in the North. Criminal Singh, do you have anything to say before you die? Do you wish to repent for your crimes? Your death will be less painful if you do."
"Yes, I wish to make a statement," said Ralph Singh. "To my wife and children, I love you. I will half my fortune to my family. I will the rest of my fortune to Alpha Company First Battalion of the United States Galactic Foreign Legion First Division, Captain Czerinski, commanding officer, when the Legion cuts off the head of the Emperor of the North and runs it up the flag pole in front of City Hall."
"Get me the sword," ordered the Emperor of the North, stunned at Singh's defiance. "The arrogance of the human pestilence has no bounds."
"We do not have a sword," replied another insurgent.
"How about my combat knife?" asked G.E. "It is sharp enough to saw through anything."
"His head must be chopped off," said the Emperor of the North. "Not sawed off."
An insurgent handed the Emperor of the North an ax used for chopping firewood. "Will this do?"
"It will have to do," said the Emperor of the North. An insurgent dragged Singh to his knees and pulled him forward by the hair. The Emperor of the North raised the ax and swung it downward at Singh's extended neck.
General Electric grabbed the ax handle and deflected the blow. The ax stuck into the wood floor. G.E. then faced the camera to speak.
"The criminal Ralph Singh will be ransomed," announced G.E. "The leaders.h.i.+p of the North Colorado Liberation Army will discuss what that ransom will be and relay it to the Legion and to the Singh Mining Corporation during our next broadcast." The video was then disconnected.
"You traitor!" accused the Emperor of the North. "You have ruined everything!"
"What is so wrong with our making some money for our efforts?" said G.E., nodding to the other insurgents. They nodded back in agreement. "How much is Singh's fortune worth?"
"It does not matter," said the Emperor of the North. "If all we want is money, we are no different than common criminals. Any ransom is nothing compared to what we are fighting for. If we win, we get the entire North. Singh's fortune is nothing compared to that. Singh's fortune is nothing compared to our freedom."
"If we win," said G.E. "I say we do one thing at a time. We ransom Singh first. That will humiliate the human pestilence and we will get the bonus of making some nice coin on the side. And we can use some of the ransom to help finance the insurgency. The weapons and supplies I gave you from my shuttle won't last forever. We will need to buy more. And one more thing. If you ever call me a traitor again, I will kill you instantly where you stand. Do I make myself clear?"
The Emperor of the North looked around the room for support. Not seeing any, he asked, "I suppose you would have this ransom business put to a vote?"
"We are not human pestilence. There will be no vote," said G.E. "I command here. The matter is settled. We ransom Singh. We will discuss for how much later."
The room full of insurgents cheered and fired their weapons into the air. The Emperor of the North agreed to ransom Singh. When he did so, the Emperor of the North also allowed General Electric to seize control as the Supreme Commander of the insurgency.
Sergeant Green woke up in a hospital bed. A Purple Heart had been pinned to his pillow. He looked over to the next bed. Elena lay there smiling back at him. Thank G.o.d. Thank G.o.d.
"It's about time you woke up," said Corporal Ceausescu. "How many Purple Hearts do you have now? You get to wear a cl.u.s.ter."
"That's what this whole military operation consists of," said Sergeant Green. "One big cl.u.s.ter."
"Watch your mouth," said Lieutenant Lopez, in the next bed. "I'm in charge of this cl.u.s.ter."
"What are you doing here?" asked Sergeant Green. "I didn't think officers got their hands dirty by leading the troops into combat anymore. Have you been slumming again or did the insurgency blow up your office?"
"Private Was.h.i.+ngton wrecked the armored car," said Lieutenant Lopez. "You know he doesn't even have a driver's license? He tipped the armored car over right in front of City Hall."
"How did that happen?" asked Corporal Ceausescu. ""Was he hurt?"
"Was.h.i.+ngton is fine," said Lieutenant Lopez. "He breaks a leg or arm, and he doesn't even bleed much. He just grows one back."
"When do we get out of here?" asked Sergeant Green. "Other than every part of my body hurting, I feel fine."
"The Doc says we have concussions and broken ribs," advised Corporal Ceausescu. "After all the steroids they're giving us, we'll be out sometime tomorrow."
"Good. I'll be asleep until tomorrow," commented Sergeant Green. "Don't wake me unless it's the end of the world about to happen, or if I'm getting s.e.x."
"Shut up," said Corporal Ceausescu. "You get nothing until you can grow back limbs like Private Was.h.i.+ngton."
"I'm not missing anything, am I?" asked Sergeant Green, checking himself. "I really am glad to see you are okay. You looked dead the last time I saw you."
"Blah, blah, blah," said Corporal Ceausescu.
"Can I ask you something personal?" asked Sergeant Green.
"Don't get all mushy on me," said Corporal Ceausescu. "Not in front of a room full of legionnaires."
"Don't worry. I'm not going to say something mushy," said Sergeant Green. "When you were knocked out by the blast, did you see a bright light?"
"Are you asking me if I had a near death experience?" Corporal Ceausescu laughed. "Of course not. There is no such thing."
"I just wondered," said Sergeant Green. "Actually, I'm relieved."
"I had a strange dream, though," said Corporal Ceausescu. "I dreamed G.o.d gave me beautiful white wings and I flew to Heaven. But I woke up here."
"No, no, no!" yelled Sergeant Green. "What kind of s.h.i.+t is this?"
"You don't like my dream?" asked Corporal Ceausescu, put off. "Or you don't like the hospital?"
"Neither," said Sergeant Green. "Wake me when the war is over. Next time, keep your dreams to yourself!"
"Don't worry! I will!"
The spider wrecker driver pulled the Legion's armored car back onto its wheels and treads. The vehicle rocked back and forth as the dust settled.
"Do you want me to tow your pretty armored car back to my shop for repairs and a paint job?" asked the wrecker driver. "I can hammer out those dents. I have a great new auto care facility in East Finisterra. Will payment be cash or credit card?"
"We will drive it as is," I said. "The dents give it character."
"Yes, sir, the customer is always right," said the wrecker driver. "Anything for the Legion. I really appreciate how you boys lay your life on the line for us, fighting the insurgency and all. And I really appreciate the Legion paying for my new shop."
"Screw you," I said. "The money for your new shop came off my card. I'm going broke fighting the insurgency. No one seems to appreciate that!"
"I love the Legion," insisted the wrecker driver. "Just keep that loco Lopez out of East Finisterra. We are running out of buildings he hasn't shot up yet."
I turned away from the wrecker driver. "Private Was.h.i.+ngton! See if the armored car will still start. Williams, Kool, check out the cannon and the machine gun. Load this beast up. We are going over the Bridge in five minutes to kick some terrorist b.u.t.t."
Ralph Gobind Singh always knew he might be a target someday. It was a risk successful people had to live with. As a precaution, Singh built a fortress home, traveled in a convoy, hired security guards and body guards, and embedded a GPS tracking chip into his thigh. Even though Singh was blindfolded, bound with rope, and being transported in the trunk of a Chevy, he had faith that his foresight would pay off and that he would be rescued. All the Legion has to do is follow the GPS signal right to my a.s.s, All the Legion has to do is follow the GPS signal right to my a.s.s, he thought. It should be simple, even for them. he thought. It should be simple, even for them.
CHAPTER 12.
A convoy arrived from New Disneyland with more immigrants and gold seekers. They were escorted by a company of the Waterstone National Guard. The Green spider troops were here to stay. The working girls at Battle Creek decided to relocate to Finesterra, moving into the brothel already built next to City Hall. Also, all the activities that used to take place at City Hall were moved next door, too. Governmental, tavern, and community center functions shared the building easily enough, but there were arguments about church services on Sunday. No one wanted to close the brothel for even one day a week. So, the paris.h.i.+oners were encouraged to sing louder during services to drown out the sound of brothel activities.
The armored car was a formidable war machine when used correctly. When we crossed the Finisterra Bridge searching for Singh, images from two airborne drones appeared on the armored car's computer monitor. These drones could guide missiles fired down from the T. Roosevelt and from helicopter gun s.h.i.+ps. A tank column led by Lieutenant Lopez was also tied into the network. Our plan was to lure the insurgents into attacking the lone armored car, then flank them with tanks. Missiles and bombs would rain down on the insurgents from above once they were located. I followed Singh's GPS tracking signal into East Finisterra. We took an indirect route so that the insurgents would not suspect that we were tracking them.
From the rooftop of the East Finisterra Hotel, General Electric watched the Legion armored car slowly drive along a side street. The owner of the hotel allowed the insurgency to use the hotel as a safe haven. He thought it would be good for business. G.E. could hear that irritating noise again. This time he immediately knew what the humming sound was. G.E. looked up. He could not see the drone, but he knew it was there. G.E. radioed to the Emperor of the North, who was on the other side of the hotel.
"It's a trap," G.E. warned. "They have a drone in the air. Get in your holes now!"
"I can see the armored car turning toward us," said the Emperor of the North. "If they get a little closer, I can get a clear shot."
G.E. jumped down a vent to the ground floor and then went underground. G.E. would decide the place and time to fight, not the Legion. He radioed for Singh to be moved out of the hotel and underground, too.
I watched the TV images of insurgents running about on the roof of the East Finisterra Hotel. They seemed panicked, but several stayed put and were aiming RPGs. I radioed for the T. Roosevelt to hit the hotel. Minutes later the entire four-story building exploded.
"What is going on up there?" radioed Lieutenant Lopez. He had been monitoring the video images from his tank. "Next time you call in an air strike, have them use smaller bombs. We just shattered every window in East Finisterra."
"Oops," I replied. "I think we killed some insurgents. I'm not getting Singh's signal anymore."
"Duh," said Lieutenant Lopez. "You probably killed him. If Singh really did write us into his will, I think we just collected."
"There is no proof we killed anyone yet. But it looks like we need a new hotel," I said, as the armored car stopped in front of the rubble. Ten legionnaires stormed out of the armored car to secure a perimeter and to search through the debris. All they found was a few dead spiders, some weapons, and a lot of broken bottles from the bar. Then we picked up Singh's signal and moved out. We followed the signal down to the river before it faded again. "Follow us to the river."
"They don't make these streets wide enough," replied Lieutenant Lopez. "I keep crunching parked cars. Man, these tanks are a blast to drive."
"Try to limit collateral damage," I suggested. "I think we are going to get some complaints about the hotel. Hurry up. On the video I'm seeing activity down by the river."
"I'm seeing it too," said Lieutenant Lopez, watching the computer monitor. "I see at least one spider carrying a rifle. They are about to cross the river in a small speed boat."
Lieutenant Lopez launched one missile, guiding it to the target with the help of the drone-mounted camera. The missile scored a direct hit, killing the insurgents and destroying the boat.
"I see more activity on Main Street," I reported. "It looks like a spider carrying a white flag."
"I say it's a trick," replied Lieutenant Lopez. "Curfew just started. Everyone but insurgents should be off the streets."
"He has a white flag," I said. "We will see what he has to say before we shoot him."
"Shoot him if he gets too close," warned Lieutenant Lopez. "Those armor piercing grenades they're tossing around are nasty."
I watched the spider approach the armored car. I called out on the loud speaker for him to halt, then fired a round into the air.
"Hey in there," called the spider. "Can we talk?"
I raised myself up from the gun turret. "What could you possibly want to talk about?" I asked. "Don't you know it's past curfew? Go home before you get killed."
"I think you got most of the bad guys already," said the spider. "The reason I came out to talk to you is that you blew up the East Finisterra Hotel and Bar."
"Are you the owner?" I asked. "If you want to file a claim for damages you can do it at City Hall when it gets rebuilt."
"No way I'm the owner," said the spider. "I am the owner of the Only Tavern and Hotel on the other side of town. The East Finisterra Hotel was my compet.i.tion."
"Why are we having this conversation?" I asked. "Get to the point before I decide to run you over."
"If you soldier boys are through shooting up the town and chasing insurgents for the day, your whole company is cordially invited to free drinks at the Only Tavern to help celebrate the destruction of the East Finisterra Hotel and Bar. I hated that place. I curse the ground it once stood on."
"You are kidding," I said. "That is wrong on so many levels."
"Did I hear someone say free drinks at the Only Tavern?" asked Lieutenant Lopez as his tank column sped past.
"Are the chopper pilots invited, too?" I asked.
"The more the merrier," said the spider. "There is a landing pad on my new roof."
I followed the tank's dust to the Only Tavern. This time we didn't park in the handicapped zone. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks with military a.s.sault rifles displayed in the back window gun racks. Rough neighborhood. I walked up to the bar and ordered a pitcher of beer. Lieutenant Lopez was already seated at the bar, chugging a bottle of vodka. A big green spider spilled his beer when I sat down beside him.
"There goes the neighborhood," said G.E. "The last legionnaire officer to come in here got thrown out through the front window."
"That was Lieutenant Lopez," I said. "Lopez is a lot smaller than I am. And you aren't big enough to throw me anywhere. Bug."
"You think so?" asked G.E., getting off his stool and facing me. "You think your excrement don't stink?"