"Don't let fear or common sense hold you back," I replied, now standing.

"You may not recognize me," said G.E. "But I guarantee you will never forget what I am about to do to you and the rest of you human pestilence."

As G.E. reached out to grab me, Lieutenant Lopez struck him over the head with a vodka bottle. G.E. dropped like a sack of potatoes. Two spiders picked Lieutenant Lopez up over their heads and threw him through the front window. Again. I hit one of the spiders in the face with my beer pitcher. The other spider shoved me into a table full of poker players, scattering chips and money everywhere. The poker players, spider and human, threw us both through the front window. I landed on top of Lieutenant Lopez.

Sergeant Green radioed the situation in for help just as the entire tavern erupted into a bar fight. One of the helicopter gunships, as it was preparing to land, received the call and fired a smoke flare through the front window. Tavern patrons spilled out into the street, coughing but still fighting.

A single spider police officer drove up, blue and red lights a flashing. "The party is over," said a big old spider sheriff wearing a cowboy hat. "Everyone either go home or go to jail."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said "We are the Legion. I've dealt with you spider cops before."

"You will leave or you will be in a whole heap of trouble, boy," said the spider sheriff. "Do it. Do it now!"

I took a step forward, then hesitated. I looked at the sheriff's badge. It had lights on it blinking on and off. It gave me a headache. Lieutenant Lopez got up off the ground and staggered over to us. The crowd quieted.

"You need help?" slurred Lieutenant Lopez. "I think we can take him."

"I don't need help," I said. "But that cop is blinking on and off. Make him stop."

"I think you're concussed again," said Lieutenant Lopez. "Our tavern across the Bridge is still open. Let's go."

"You heard the man!" yelled Sergeant Green. "Free drinks across the bridge at the new City Hall. Captain Czerinski is buying!"

"There are no freebees next door at the wh.o.r.ehouse, though," added Lieutenant Lopez, grabbing me and pulling me to the armored car.

Spiders and humans loaded into and on top of the armored car, tanks, pickup trucks, and helicopter, and raced across the bridge. Surprised legionnaires jumped out of the way as the convoy smashed the barrier at the bridge checkpoint. At City Hall, construction was only half completed, but the bar was up and running, and drunks lined up for their free drinks. The whole party was put on my card, taxing my line of credit even more than I thought possible. Oh well. Only poor people die rich.

The hunt for Ralph Gobind Singh resumed at about noon the next day.

CHAPTER 13.

East Finisterra High School and West Finisterra High School football teams were meeting in the first annual Gold Nugget Bowl at the spiders' home field stadium in East Finisterra. The mostly spider players of East Finisterra were faster and quicker than the mostly human West Finisterra team. The West Finisterra players were larger, and almost always ran the ball. The Diggers, also known as The Pestilence, were undefeated. Just coming off impressive victories over the New Disneyland Rats and the New Memphis Gamblers, the West Finisterra Diggers were up for the game that would make their year, no matter what happened during the rest of the schedule.

The stadium was packed. Fans occasionally fired a.s.sault rifles during pregame celebrations. Someone fired off a flare that drifted slowly to the forty-yard line by parachute. I watched from atop the turret of my armored car parked just past the end zone. An ambulance aid car was parked next to me. A truce had been arranged with the insurgency for the game. The Legion agreed not to arrest anyone during the game, not to call in any air strikes, not to shoot anyone, not to man roadblocks around the stadium, and not to bring tanks anywhere in East Finisterra until after the game crowds had left. The Insurgency agreed not to set any bombs, not to kidnap anyone, not to shoot legionnaires, not to shoot at the helicopter, not to kill Ralph Singh, and not to shoot any of the referees while the game was in progress. Also, we had to allow the game to be broadcast on cable TV as well as satellite TV.

I scanned the crowd with my scope. Both sides seemed equally well armed. The East Finisterra cheerleaders looked hideous. I spotted Pam and her sisters working the crowd. The owner of the Only Tavern had beer kegs lined up to make sure no one got thirsty. On the referee's signal, I fired the armored car's cannon to begin the first half.

East Finisterra scored first on a hook and ladder trick play. West Finisterra came back running the straight T formation right down the field for a score. Trouble began when the spider quarterback got knocked down by a late hit, and the referee didn't call it. Then a spider receiver was knocked down before the ball got to him, but still no call. The foul was replayed over and over on the big screen, but it was too late to call the obvious foul. Upset fans rushed out onto the field and jostled the referee. I drove the armored car out on to the field and fired off some machine gun rounds to make fans on both sides back off. The spider sheriff and some deputies also were out on the field. I ordered fans off the field, but no one budged. Finally the sheriff arrested the referee. A deputy cuffed the ref and put him into the back of a patrol car for transport to the county jail. That seemed to make most fans happy, and play resumed. The score was 30-28 West Finisterra at halftime.

Tonight was Homecoming for East Finisterra. The queen and princesses lined up and waved to the fans. They were driven around the track in the bed of pickup trucks. The royalty looked lovely as they hissed and beckoned to their adoring fans.

The second half was as exciting as the first, with the game being decided on the last play. West Finisterra scored, making the count 47-46 East Finisterra. The Diggers didn't have a field goal kicker, so once again they had to go for the two-point conversion. West Finisterra ran a power sweep over the right side. As the ball carrier made his cut, the muddy turf gave way, causing the ball carrier to lose his footing and slide to the ground just short of the goal line. East Finisterra won. Spider fans rushed out on to the field. Players shook hands and claws, and promised to be ready for a showdown next year. There was also some talk about the upcoming basketball season. Then everyone went home. No one even got killed. That would change soon.

"What shall we blow up today?" asked General Electric. "A terrorist's work is never done."

"I think we can best hurt the human pestilence by hitting economic targets," answered the Emperor of the North. "Today we hit that new Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant they just built on Main Street."

"No way," said G.E. "That is my favorite restaurant. I say we should bomb Taco Bell."

"No," said the Emperor of the North. "My girlfriend likes Taco Bell. We went on our first date at Taco Bell. She would be upset if I bombed Taco Bell. I would get the silent treatment all week."

"What about MacDonald's?" asked G.E. "I heard they have been diluting their hamburger with oatmeal and soy beans to save on the cost of their Big Macs. MacDonald's Corporation deserves to be bombed."

"The problem with MacDonald's is they are open 24 hours, so we can't bomb the place after hours," said the Emperor of the North. "Most of the employees are spiders. Some of them are even on the football team, and I don't want to risk killing any players when we have a chance to get into the playoffs. Did you see that game yesterday?"

"I did. That was a great game," said G.E. "We stuffed the human pestilence good. That goal line stand at the end of the game was one for the history books."

"If we call in a bomb threat on the phone, they can evacuate MacDonald's, and no one gets hurt," suggested the Emperor of the North. "What do you think?"

"I think it's too risky," said G.E. "Our quarterback is one of the boys working there."

"I heard the human pestilence has already cleared land for a new Wal-Mart," said the Emperor of the North. "How about we bomb some of the construction equipment just to send a message? Wal-Mart is one of the largest human corporations. If we stop Wal-Mart, we will harm their morale big time."

"Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," said G.E. "If the human pestilence thinks they can build a Wal-Mart right in the middle of East Finisterra, they have grossly underestimated our determination and resolve. They are so arrogant. We strike at midnight."

"Some of my fighters are asking for resolution on Ralph Singh," advised the Emperor of the North. "Have you given any thought as to how much ransom we should demand?"

"How about fifty million dollars?" asked G.E. "I think they will gladly pay that amount."

"We need to demand at least five hundred million dollars," said the Emperor of the North. "We have a lot of overhead to account for. Everyone who has stayed in the insurgency expects a cut of the ransom."

"What?" asked G.E. "I was hoping to just split it between you and me, with maybe a little left over for the insurgency. Fifty million dollars is a manageable amount. Five hundred million dollars couldn't be hauled away in a dump truck."

"The ransom is bigger than you and me," said the Emperor of the North. "The purpose of the ransom is to gain respect for the cause, not for anyone's profit or personal gain. It will be used to finance further operations against the human pestilence. Paying the ransom will humiliate the human pestilence."

"Why not ask for a cool billion dollars?" asked G.E. "Singh is more than good for it."

"We might do just that if the Legion or the Singh Corporation gives us any grief over the matter," said the Emperor of the North. "We can demand that the money be put in an Arthropodan bank account off-planet. That way we don't have to worry about being caught picking up the money."

"Will the Emperor of Arthropoda cooperate with that?" asked G.E. "We will still have to go to a bank to access the money."

"I will mail pieces of Ralph Singh to the Legion until we get agreement on the ransom," said the Emperor of the North. "The human pestilence are more squeamish about lost limbs and digits than we are because they cannot grow back body parts, and because they bleed out so fast. The human pestilence will agree to our demands soon enough."

Private Washington parked the armored car at the midway point on top of the Finisterra Bridge. My orders were to wait there on the high point of the Bridge until the next tracking signal from Singh was detected. We suspected that the insurgents kept Singh underground most of the time, interfering with the GPS signal. As a precaution, however, the insurgents constantly moved Singh to different locations at night. This would be done above ground, and so we waited for their next move. We planned to race off the Bridge and trap the insurgents before they could jump back into their spider holes. Drones, night vision gear, and speed would give us an advantage. Tanks led by Lieutenant Lopez, already in East Finisterra, stood by to flank the insurgents after we made contact.

The insurgents sent a message demanding a half billion dollars for Ralph Singh, to be placed in a yet to be determined Arthropodan bank, or else Singh would be sent to us in pieces. My reply from the Legion was that the United States Galactic Federation does not negotiate ransom demands with terrorists. Also, the Legion arrested thirty hostages, mostly families and friends of suspected insurgents, plus three members of the East Finisterra High School football team. A representative from the Singh Mining Corporation, James Yamas.h.i.ta, replied that he needed more time to get that much money together. Yamas.h.i.ta suggested a partial payment of five million dollars in cash to be dropped in a location of the insurgents' choosing as a show of good faith, and to prevent any rash slicing and dicing of CEO Singh. In the meantime, all anyone could do for now was wait.

The small maintenance building atop the Finisterra Bridge was being used as a barracks for legionnaires guarding the bridge. Private Washington went inside the barracks to get some sleep. Others did the same. They say a legionnaire can sleep anywhere, but Private Washington could not sleep no matter what. He took a couple of pills to help him sleep. Medic Ceausescu said the beta blockers slowed Adrenalin and would calm him, but it did not help. Now it was too quiet inside the barracks. Or, maybe it was the wrong kind of noise. Human snoring was just too alien to allow relaxation anywhere near. Private Washington needed background noise that was pleasant. Something familiar. Something Legion.

Private Washington walked back outside. He started up the engine of the armored car and curled up in the cab. In minutes Private Washington drifted blissfully into deep sound sleep.

Corporal Tonelli could not sleep either. The temperature and humidity in the barracks was wrong, and someone had left the engine running on the armored car outside his window. The noise grated on him. What a waste of fuel, What a waste of fuel, he thought. He went outside to turn the engine off. He found Private Washington asleep behind the wheel of the armored car. Private Washington clutched at his a.s.sault rifle, but he seemed peacefully content. A claw rested on the dash. he thought. He went outside to turn the engine off. He found Private Washington asleep behind the wheel of the armored car. Private Washington clutched at his a.s.sault rifle, but he seemed peacefully content. A claw rested on the dash.

Tonelli reached for the ignition switch. Private Washington stirred, hissing and mumbling in his sleep, swiping with his claw at dreamland foes. Tonelli pulled back, anxious at the thought of waking the big green spider. He changed his mind about turning off the engine and walked to the east end of the bridge. He went to sleep in the guard shack, finding it quiet and peaceful.

At midnight the alarm was quickly pa.s.sed, indicating that Ralph Singh's GPS tracking device was active. Flack-jacketed legionnaires loaded into the back of the armored car. Each sat on a sandbag. I rode on top in the turret. As we sped off the bridge, we picked up Corporal Tonelli at the guard shack. We only got about three blocks when our portable electronic jamming devices set off an IED mounted half way up a power pole. Attached detonation cord set off a chain of explosions as we pa.s.sed by. We were saved because the timing of the IED's were off. Still, the explosions rocked the sides of the armored car. Hatches left cracked with pins still in place helped permit dispersion of concussive effects. My ears, however, were still ringing. Medic Ceausescu quickly checked legionnaires for shock as we continued on our mission.

The GPS showed that Ralph Singh was being moved north out of town along a dirt road that paralleled the river. Drone images showed three small jeeps driving fast and without lights. Also, a tip had been called in that Singh was being moved north. We raced after them.

The Emperor of the North's plan was to move Ralph Singh out of town to G.E.'s s.p.a.ce shuttle. The Legion had been getting too close, and East Finisterra had been deemed unsafe. The Emperor of the North rode in the second jeep. Singh sat blindfolded next to him. G.E. rode in the rear jeep with his Special Forces troops.

The mood was upbeat. Earlier in the day they had picked up the five million dollars down payment from the Singh Mining Corporation. The money was carried in G.E.'s vehicle. Just after leaving town, G.E. ordered the driver to turn off the road and into the woods. I hope the Legion kills them all, I hope the Legion kills them all, he thought to himself. he thought to himself.

The Legion helicopter gunship fired a burst of five hundred 50 cal rounds into the lead jeep. The vehicle disintegrated. Warning rounds were then fired over the second jeep. On his night vision scope, the pilot could see several spiders and one human captive exit the vehicle and run into the forest. Another burst of 50 cal fire destroyed their jeep behind them.

The Emperor of the North dragged Singh deeper into the cover of the forest. He could see headlights behind him and hear the arrival of a Legion armored car crashing through the underbrush. The armored car high-centered on some fallen trees. Legionnaires poured out of the armored car and fanned out, forming a protective perimeter. A machine gunner fired blindly into the woods. Cannon fire followed. A lucky shot killed two insurgents.

The Emperor of the North carried Singh as the group of insurgents fled through the forest at about forty miles per hour. The human pestilence had failed to account for how fast a spider could move at sustained speeds. They easily put distance between them and the Legion. But at every turn, the legionnaires and the helicopter seemed to antic.i.p.ate their moves. It was as if the Legion knew which way to turn. Finally the Emperor of the North stopped and confronted Singh. "How are they tracking us?" he asked. "Tell me now, if you value your life."

"How should I know?" asked Singh. "I can't tell anything blindfolded."

The Emperor of the North drew his combat knife and cut the blindfold off of Singh, drawing blood in the process. He held the knife to Singh's eye. "One last time for you to tell me the truth," said the Emperor of the North. "I will cut out your eyeball if you don't see things my way real quick."

"There is a GPS tracking chip in my thigh," said Singh. "Please don't hurt me."

The Emperor of the North bit through Singh's thigh and extracted the tracking chip with his mouth and mandibles. He gave the chip to another insurgent with instructions to lead the legionnaires north, away from their group. The Emperor of the North then led his fighters through the forest, back to a safe house in East Finisterra.

Corporal Tonelli and his monitor dragon followed the insurgents' trail deep into the woods. I trailed them, also checking my portable GPS device. The GPS indicated Singh was headed back toward the river. But the dragon, after finding a small amount of blood, insisted on tracking toward East Finisterra. I followed Tonelli and his 'dog' Spot. I radioed to Sergeant Green back at the armored car to track the GPS. They soon found the lone insurgent carrying the GPS tracker and killed him. The rest of the platoon followed the dragon to a small home on the edge of town. I called in an air strike, destroying the building. But the insurgents had already taken Singh down a spider hole and escaped into the vast tunnel system under East Finisterra.

"We need to go into the tunnels if we are going to root out the insurgents," advised James Yamas.h.i.ta. "This cat and mouse game you are playing is not working."

"We can't fight in the tunnels because we lose our tactical advantage down there," I replied. "Above ground we have mobility, firepower, and air support. Below ground we have nothing, not even numbers."

"You have successfully fought the spiders in the tunnels before," argued Yamas.h.i.ta, his fists clinched. "You can do it again."

"No. We were not successful," I insisted. "My entire platoon was captured or killed."

"You want to go down there so bad," said Lieutenant Lopez. "I'll take you down with me. We'll see how much you like the idea then. Idiota."

"What did you call me?" asked Yamas.h.i.ta. "General Kalipetsis a.s.sured me I would get your full cooperation in rescuing CEO Singh. Do I have to tell General Kalipetsis you are not being helpful?"

"Look, you little pimple," I said, grabbing Yamas.h.i.ta by the throat and shoving him against the wall. "If I report your death to General Kalipetsis, no one will even miss you."

"Please, we are all on the same side," said Yamas.h.i.ta. "I did not mean to offend or threaten either of you. It's just that I'm under a lot of stress. How about if we pump gas into the tunnels?"

"Wouldn't that stop the ongoing mining operations?" I asked, letting go of Yamas.h.i.ta. "And I think there are too many interconnected tunnels to do that effectively."

"The Singh Mining Corporation owns most of the mining tunnels anyway," said Yamas.h.i.ta. "I can close down all mining and seal egress points while you gas the tunnels. We don't even have to gas all the tunnels. If you can determine an approximate location for CEO Singh, that will be good enough."

"It might work," agreed Lieutenant Lopez. "Our scientists have recently developed some great new nerve agents that work real well against the spiders."

"Nerve agents?" asked Yamas.h.i.ta. "I was thinking more along the lines of tear gas or some kind of knockout or vomit gas. Remember, we do not want to risk killing CEO Singh. Our goal is to rescue him."

"My goal is to destroy the insurgency," I said. "The Legion does not negotiate with terrorists. I accept that there will be some collateral damage. I like the idea of using nerve agent in the tunnels."

"CEO Singh is not to be considered collateral damage," said Yamas.h.i.ta. "He is the richest most powerful man on New Colorado."

"He may be the richest," I said. "But you have got a lot to learn about power."

"Now, see here," said the spider Mayor of East Finisterra. "It is bad enough that all the miners are out of work today. But now you are dumping chemicals into the mine shafts? Think of the possible contamination to their workplace. I should file an OSHA complaint against the Legion."

"It's nerve agent," corrected Lieutenant Lopez. "You should stand back because you really don't want to get any of this stuff on you."

"That is exactly my point," said the mayor. "What are the residual effects of your nerve agent going to be on my city?"

"There may be a few pockets of nerve agent leftover here and there," advised Lieutenant Lopez. "But most of it will disperse harmlessly after a while."

They watched as Legion engineers drilled a small hole into the street and down to the first level of tunnels. A compressor pumped nerve agent from tanks into the shaft. Then the engineers sealed the hole and prepared to move on to the next site.

"What if the nerve agent leaks out into the city?" asked the mayor. "The tunnels surely are not airtight."

"Nerve gas is heavier than air," said Lieutenant Lopez. "It should not rise up."

"But what if it does?" asked the mayor. "What about Murphy's Law?"

"What would you know about Murphy's Law?" asked Lieutenant Lopez. "Only humans know about Murphy's Law. I guess it would be bad for the real estate market."

"Now you make with the jokes?" asked the mayor. "This is totally unacceptable."

"Back off. You're getting in the way," said Lieutenant Lopez, as he hopped aboard the drilling rig and drove off with the engineers. This left the mayor with only Corporal Tonelli to air grievances to.

"I also need to talk about the hostages you recently took," said the mayor. "Their families insist they have nothing to do with the insurgency and demand release now."

"They would say that," said Tonelli. "But attacks are way down now. You have any crackers to go with your whine?"

"At least release the three football players," said the mayor. "After all, Guido, they are just kids."

"Wasn't one of those kids the quarterback?" asked Tonelli. "That's really a tough break for the team."