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Authors: Walter Knight

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BOOK: Lieutenant Columbus
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“No,” I replied. “Never heard of MacLeod. Do I need a lawyer?”

“David MacLeod was lynched, strung up a flag pole in front of City Hall in New Gobi City,” explained Agent Smith. “That was while you were the garrison commander of New Gobi City.”

“Ah yes, the Australian. MacLeod was a Mafia hit
man, sent to assassinate one of my legionnaires, hired by
the
gambling cartel in New Memphis. What about him?”

“I was ordered to look into some cold cases
while I am in the neighborhood
, including MacLeod and other possible
c
ivil
r
ights violations. Your name keeps coming up.”

“That Australian got what he deserved,” I argued, shifting uncomfortably. “What is your problem?”

“This is not my problem. It

s yours. Your constant disregard for the civil rights of citizens is a federal felony. New Colorado is not your personal fiefdom to do as you please
– certainly not
without consequences.”

“That Australian killer deserved to die, and you know it.”

“He also deserved a fair trial. You have no respect for the rule of law.”

“If it is against the law to kill assassins on sight, then the law needs to be changed. Besides, this is a combat zone, and I am not a cop. Colonial law is a bit more practical than your tired Old Earth law. Look it up, it

s even somewhere in the Constitution.”

“You abused your authority for personal gain.”

“The last time you accused me of that, I threw your sorry ass in jail. Do you have a short memory, or need a refresher? You

re lucky you survived.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Agent Smith, tapping his recorder. “It is a federal felony to threaten the FBI.”

“It

s a promise. You won

t survive the day. I

ll feed you to the newts.”

“Colonel Czerinski, we are both on the same side,” advised Agent Smith, reasonably. “I can overlook technical legal details involving frontier justice, but you need to play ball, too.”

“What do you want? Money?”

“This isn

t about the cash you stole from Garcia

s hidden accounts, although I

m sure the IRS would be interested,” answered Agent Smith. “I want Johnny Black.”

“The baseball player?”

“Black is a vampire, doing the Legion

s dirty work. Black chased Garcia here. His disease cannot be allowed to spread. Vampires should have never been allowed past Mars. If Black shows up, you will inform me immediately.”

“There is no such thing as vampires.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Sorry, but vampires creep me out and are not allowed in this story. Zombies are not allowed either.”

“Story? What story?”

“My story.

America

s Galactic Foreign Legion.

I have enough problems dealing with the Grim Reaper.”

“There is no such thing as the Grim Reaper.”

“Believe what you want.”

“I want Johnny Black, and you will help me get him.”

“Whatever. I

m going to kick Knight

s ass for allowing you back into my story. I will close the book on you once and for all.”

 

* * * * *

 

The ATM got restless swimming with the fishes and staring at Garcia all day. Even newts would not socialize with the ATM. Finally, the desperate ATM took to playing loud music by day, and flashing lights by night. Its antics began attracting tourists and scuba divers. That could not be allowed to continue. I ordered Captain Columbus to winch the ATM up for some fresh air.

“It is about time,” scolded the ATM. “That nasty kelp gets everywhere.”

“What do you know ab
o
ut vampires?” I asked.

“Nothing. There is no such thing.”

“Throw the dumb machine back.”

“Wait!”

“Well?”

“I might know a little. Vampires? Vampire tales originate from Pennsylvania folklore, or maybe Maryland. You might ask Lopez if you want more details.”

“I am asking you. Spill it, or I spill you. Have vampires got past Mars?”

“Everyone has got past Mars. Mars is a joke.”

“And Johnny Black?”

“Great baseball player.”

“Lower the winch!”

“Okay, stop! Lieutenant Johnny
B
lack, USGF Foreign Legion
S
pecial
F
orces commando, assignment unknown. What more do you want to know?”

“Is Black a vampire?”

“Well
,
duh! You think? With a name like Black
,
of course he is a vampire.”

“Drop the ATM back into the lake,” interrupted Major Lopez. “It lies! I would never make a deal with El Diablo.”

“Maybe no
t
now,” conceded the ATM. “But you did in the future.”

“Not likely,” argued Major Lopez. “Whether there is time travel or not, I have free will, and know I will not loose chupacabras on an unsuspecting galaxy.”

“Drop the box back into the water,” I ordered. “We will talk later.”

 

* * * * *

 

Major Desert-Sting of the Scorpion City National Guard insisted on digging a deeper foundation to secure the Smokey the Bear statue. Scorpion work crews fenced off the area and dug. Of course, they kept digging, much deeper than necessary, intent on finding the Lost Bob Woodard Mine. And, they found it!

After looting Garcia

s fortune, I lost interest in the gold. However, I am a partner, and you can never have too much gold. At this rate, I would be the richest man on the planet. However, there was a problem. The horizontal shaft extended under Monica Lake, and ended. No gold. Scorpions continued to scurry back and forth out of the mine, bringing up ore, but to no avail. Old Bob

s Mine was a bust.

To make matters worse, we woke to a ghastly discovery. Someone recovered
Garcia

s
body
,
decapitated his head, and left the rotting s
k
ull on a spike atop Corporal Tonelli

s
guard shack
. I had never seen Guido so visibly shaken. It was unnerving to me, too. Even Spot was upset. I tripled the dam guard, assigning privates Krueger and Knight to dam duty with Guido.

 

* * * * *

 

At midnight
,
a lone soldier walked out to Corporal Tonelli

s
guard shack
. It was a young commando lieutenant. Corporal Tonelli saluted.

“Winch the ATM up out of the water,” ordered
the l
ieutenant. “The cable is already attached.”

Tonelli uneasily inspected the winch and cable. Sure enough, it was done.
How did that happen?
“Who are you? Colonel Czerinski needs to be advised if you are going to mess with hat ATM.”

“No one needs to be advised. That

s an order. Do it now!”

Spot appeared from the shadows. He hissed, baring his large fangs.
The l
ieutenant hissed back, baring fangs just as large. Spot ran off to town. Private Krueger pulled a grenade from his pouch.

“Bring your sorry yellow teeth to a grenade fight?” sneered Private Krueger. “Bad idea, Fang Boy!”

In an instant
the l
ieutenant snatched the grenade. Corporal Tonelli immediately aimed his sub-machine gun
. “I recognize you! You

re Johnny
Black
!”

“Are you a vampire?” asked Private Knight, stepping between Black and
the
others. “I knew it
!
There really are vampires!”

“Pull up the ATM, or this will get ugly,” advised Lieutenant Black.

“Why?” asked Corporal Tonelli. “There

s no money in it.”

“You might as well put the gun away, Guido,” advised Private Knight. “Only a wooden stake through the heart can kill a vampire. I left all my stakes at the barracks
.

“Or silver bullets,” added Private Krueger, trying to be helpful. “How about I stick him with a tent pole?”

“Silver bullets only work on werewolves,” advised Lieutenant Black. “There is no such thing as werewolves.”

Corporal Tonelli lowered his weapon and winched the ATM to the shore. Lieutenant Black scraped kelp and mud off the front of the ATM and inserted his ID card. “I want out!”

“So do I,” mocked the ATM. “To
o
bad, so sad.”

“My Legion enlistment is over. I want my discharge papers.”

“Everyone is in for the duration,” advised the ATM. “No one reads the fine print on their contract. You people think you are so smart.”

“I read the fine print. My contract was very specific. It stated I was in for the duration of hostilities, or until Tony

The Toe

Garcia is brought to justice. His head is on a spike. I want out.”

“My
,
oh my!” exclaimed the ATM. “You are right, and smarter than you look. I will issue your discharge papers immediately. What will you do now? Go back to playing baseball for Seattle?”

“That is exactly what I will do.
Playing b
aseball is all I ever wanted to do.”

“You think the Legion will let you return to Old Earth?”

“Yes. General Lopez and I already came to an understanding.”

“If I w
ere
you, I would not trust that snake
,
Lopez.”

“No problem. I already killed him, with the CIA

s blessing
.


General
Lopez?” interrupted Tonelli. “He

s only a major.”

“Maybe I should kill your Major Lopez, too.”

“No need
,” advised Tonelli cautiously
.

Just leave. Go back to Old Earth, to the Big Show, and live the dream.”

Lieutenant Black thought over Tonelli

s sage advi
c
e, and was off, flying into the night, dropping Legion equipment along the way. His graceful silhouette across the moon was a spectacle to behold.

Tonelli immediately ran to the guard shack. Knight and Krueger followed. Using the secure phone, Tonelli called the New Memphis offices of Bonanno Bookies &
Associates.

“This is Guido. I

m going all in on
the
Mariners to win the World
S
eries next year. Don

t argue with me, just do it!”

 

* * * * *

 

Christopher Columbus and Priscilla Percy agreed to marry in the evening. Columbus insisted on a church wedding, so they wed in the only church in town, the Church of the Holy Newt of Light. The preacher was stoned, as was the piano player, but
he
read the teleprompter just fine.

“Do you
,
Priscilla Percy, agree to accept this man in holy matrimony, to love, cherish, and obey, for life, and promise to not take up vulgar habits like smoking cigars, indulging in magic mushrooms, or licking newts?”

“I do.”

“And do you
,
Christopher Columbus, accept this woman in holy matrimony, to love, cherish, and honor, never take a mistress, and promise to get rid of that disgusting smelly camel Hargundu?”

“What?” asked Columbus. “Get rid of loyal Hargundu? I will not do it!”

“It

s my way, or the highway,” threatened Percy.

“How about we just not allow Hargundu inside our tent?”

“No, that mangy camel must go!”

“I

ll take him to the camel-wash.”

“No!”

 

* * * * *

 

The spider commander intended to exact revenge against the Legion, and Captain Columbus in particular, for the humiliation suffered at Smokey

s Tavern. Missiles targeted major structures, including the casino, Legion Headquarters,
the
Smokey the Bear
statue
, the Church of the Holy Newt of Light, and the
camel
stables. “This time that feral camel will die!” swore the spider commander, patting his war mule. “No quarter!”

BOOK: Lieutenant Columbus
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