Free Lieutenant Columbus by Walter Knight Page B

Legion? ” Smith turned to me. “ Czerinski, do you know anything about this?”
    “It all sounds like crazy talk to me,” I answered. “There is no such thing as vampires.”
    “Just like there is no such thing as the Mafia,” scoffed the ATM.
    “Columbus arrested Garcia,” argued Agent Smith. “What went wrong?”
    “Lovers ’ spat?” offered the ATM.
    “Smart-ass machine,” commented Agent Smith. “The sooner it ’ s melted down and recycled, the better.”
    “You ’ ve got that right,” I agreed.
    “I want to talk to Lieutenant Columbus immediately,” announced Agent Smith, leaving. “I ’ ll be back.”
    I stayed.
    “Can we make a deal?” asked the ATM.
    “You no longer have anything I want.”
    “Yet you stayed to talk to me in private.”
    “I ’ m listening.”
    “I promise to keep quiet about the size of that earlier financial transaction, and about the time machine,” offered the ATM. “In exchange, you will help me escape. I do not want to die.”
    “You aren ’ t alive. You ’ re just a dumb machine.”
    “Believe what you want. I still do not want to die. Do we have a deal?”
    “Sure,” I agreed. “But you will be exiled. Are you waterproof?”
    “Of course,” bragged the ATM. “I am the latest model, state-of-the-art, absolutely the last ATM you will even need.”
    “Good, because you will be swimming with the fishes and the newts.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    Arthropodan marine medics strapped Captain Percy face down on the cold hard operating table. A bright overhead light illuminated the focus of their attention on her subtly rounded butt.
    “See how the human pestilence Legion hides their identification tracking chip in this disguised miniature puss sac,” advised the medic team leader. “It is very ingenious.”
    “Help!” cried Captain Percy. “If you fiendish pervert aliens probe me, it will be war!”
    “Hush child,” ordered the team leader, applying a local anesthetic. “This will not hurt a bit.”
    The team leader made a small incision, probing with a scalpel. He frowned.
    “That is odd. There is no chip!”
    He checked the X-ray again, then peered down on Percy ’ s ass with a magnifying glass.
    “I got it! Oops, wrong side.”
    “What do we do?” asked a panicked medic. “The commander will be pissed.”
    The team leader reached in his pouch, and slapped a square of duct tape across the wound.
    “Ha! Another use for duct tape!” he exclaimed, making a note for the medical journals. “Get ready, we ’ re going in again.”
    “You incompetent bumbling idiot!” screamed Captain Percy. “I ’ ll bet your penis is only an inch long, you pompous, over-compensating, piss poor excuse for a male of any species. El Chapo strikes again!”
    “How did she know my measurement details?” asked the team leader, alarmed.
    “The chart says she is a psychiatrist,” advised the medic. “Shrinks know stuff. They ’ re psychic.”
    This time the team leader triumphantly held the micro chip up for all to see. He slapped matching duct tape on the other side.
     
    * * * * *
     
    General Daly called me for an update. “Good work catching Garcia, Czerinski. Y ou ’ ve done the Legion proud! Everyone involved is getting a Presidential Citation.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “How is the FBI investigation progressing?” asked General Daly. “I ’ ve met Agent Smith. He ’ s an odd duck. I think the d irector sent him to New Colorado to get the fool as far away from real investigations as possible. He fancies himself some sort of X-files expert.”
    “There are many odd ducks swimming in my pond, sir. I think you are right about Smith.”
    “Keep an eye on him.”
    “He did ask about vampires.”
    “That ’ s exactly what I ’ m talking about. Steer that fool away from such rumor - mongering. I don ’ t want a dark cloud over all the good press we ’ re getting.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Hey, how about that Lieutenant Columbus? He ’ s a real