America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 22: Blue Powder War by Walter Knight Page B

I’ll castrate you – no more discharges of any kind for you.”
    Hargundu just stared like a dumb camel. I knew he was sandbagging; he understands English perfectly. I called his bluff, retrieving a pair of castration cutters from my pouch. That got his attention. Hargundu brayed and kicked as he strained against his tether.
    “Don’t worry, Hargundu, you’ll be okay when the pain stops. Burros find circumcision sexy.”
    Hargundu gave a mighty lunge, snapping the tether from its post. He ran like the wind into the night. Not a problem. I would be tracking that pervert Bactrian by satellite GPS until he led me to the crash site. I had time on my side.
     
    * * * * *
     
    “I heard you’re retiring,” said CIA Agent Casey conversationally as he worked the controls of a drone following Hargundu. “That’s good.”
    “What’s so good about it?” I asked.
    “You’ve had a long career. You and the galaxy deserve a rest.”
    “We’ll see. I’m still in for the duration.”
    “I think I can manage following one camel without your help. I’ll make a phone call. You will be cashiered, retired by the end of the week, sipping margaritas on a beach in Old Earth Mexico.”
    “Really?”
    “What’s the point of being a CIA officer if I can’t do a pal a favor?”
    “You are not my pal, and I don’t need favors,” I snapped, feeling surly about the cashiered remark. “No thanks. I’ll retire on my own schedule.”
    “I think you should retire now. Take Major Lopez with you.”
    “Why.”
    “Just looking at the big picture. New Colorado doesn’t need cowboys anymore.”
    “I need air,” I said, stepping outside my command car. Major Lopez stepped out, too. “What was that about?”
    “ Bendaho ,” replied Major Lopez. “Politics and jealousy, but everyone can be replaced, even us. We’re both rich. Maybe it’s for the best.”
    “I don’t like being told to get out of town.”
    “Before sundown?”
    “Exactly.”
    “Pride rears its ugly head.” Major Lopez sighed. “Who would have thought you to be a lifer back when we first met?”
    “We’ve made a difference, haven’t we? For the better? I’m serious. How many times have we saved the galaxy from aliens and Democrats?”
    “I’m serious, too. Get out while the getting is good. Don’t wait until they sic the IRS on us both.”
    “Is that what this is all about?” I asked, upset. “They think we’re crooks or something?”
    “New Colorado is no longer the Wild West. There’s a Starbucks on every corner. Even blue powder is on the decline. I don’t think America needs a foreign legion anymore.”
    “We’re being replaced by the Army? No way I’m letting that happen.”
    “Probably the Marine Corps,” lamented Major Lopez. “We’re going to be replaced by jarheads”
    “If that happens, the galaxy is doomed.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    Disguised in donkey skins, Blue-Claw crept silently into the donkey camp where Hargundu snuggled in for the night with his favorite donkey. When Hargundu whispered to donkeys, they whispered back. Contented snores filled the air. Using a small probe, Blue-Claw injected another tracking chip into the sleeping camel’s buttocks.
    Ouch! Hargundu hadn’t been probed by aliens in a long while. He liked it. Hargundu rolled over amorously, only to have his intentions deflated by Blue-Claw’s taser. Reflexively, Hargundu kicked Blue-Claw through the goal posts of life.
    Blue-Claw’s world went black, as did his concussed nightmare dream of camel and donkey love. He got into it a little bit. That’s how dreams are. It was mostly a nightmare. No need for counseling. He’d kill that camel slow and painful when he woke up. Red sky at morning found Blue-Claw wandering aimlessly through the sagebrush, smoking a cigarette and scratching sand mites out of every nook, cranny, and orifice of his exoskeleton.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Hargundu fled the familiarity of his burro brothers for the eastern mountains. Even