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

human pestilence trailer park mobile homes.”
    “I see. Okay, let me go, and I’ll get right on that.”
    The spider commander stuck a syringe into Coen’s neck, injecting a small microchip. “A tiny chip floating to your brain will explode whenever I chose to make it happen,” he explained maniacally. “You will find out Blue-Claw’s secret, or – pop – you die of a brain aneurysm.”
    “Are you out of your mind?” protested Coen, still bleeding from the neck. “Secret tornadoes? How am I supposed to find out about secret tornadoes? It’s probably just global warming.”
    “There’s no such thing as global warming!” replied the spider commander, back-claw-slapping Coen across the face. “Global warming is another of your human pestilence CIA plots of galactic domination and higher taxes.”
    “Please, not the face!” grimaced Coen in pain. “That was my dimpled camera side.”
    “You will go to the county jail to interview Blue-Claw about the fate of his Polish Cartel. Promise him anything for his secret. Offer amnesty, escape, bail, power, money – it’s as good as cash – even sex.”
    “I’m not having sex with Blue-Claw.”
    “You will do my bidding, no matter what!”
    “How do I know you won’t kill me anyway?”
    “Because I want Czerinski prosecuted for the massacre of the refugees. After I get Blue-Claw’s secret, Czerinski will no longer have the leverage to weasel out this time.”
    “Why not just kill Czerinski? It would be easier.”
    “It’s not so easy. He’s like your Old Earth invasive cockroaches, impossible to kill. Tear the head off a cockroach, it still lives on for weeks before it finally starves to death.”
    “Czerinski won’t live on for weeks.”
    “Killing Czerinski has to be done right, or not at all. Revenge is best served cold, like a crushed Old Earth invasive rodent.”
    “Okay, I’ll do it. But I want an exclusive on Arthropodan Cable TV about the Czerinski fall.”
    “Yes, of course. Anything you want. You’re a galactic icon. Everyone says so. Even the Emperor watches you on World News Tonight.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    It was a slow news day when Phil Coen requested an interview with Sheriff McCoy about the sand mite infestation in New Phoenix. Sheriff McCoy declined to be interviewed. Coen asked about exploding kittens. That piqued the sheriff’s interest. McCoy relented for a short interview.
    “The reason I’m here is waterboarding,” started Coen. “It’s an outrage.”
    “The Sheriff’s Office does not explode or waterboard kittens,” replied Sheriff McCoy indignantly.
    “What about Colonel Czerinski’s ongoing interrogation of Blue-Claw?”
    “Colonel Czerinski has not yet been given access to Blue-Claw. However, because of pressure from above, I expect it to happen soon.”
    “How soon?”
    “Today.”
    “And you’re good with that?”
    “Of course not,” advised the sheriff. “Blue-Claw signed up to play charity football. He will be our first spider running back. I expect to get a lot of good press, and don’t need scandal. This is a charity event for Children’s Hospital.”
    “Is Blue-Claw any good?”
    “I hear he has some moves and once ran for six hundred yards in one game, but the guards always win.”
    “I should bet on the guards?”
    “That’s where the smart money is. I’m hoping Blue-Claw brings down the odds.”
    “Who is Czerinski betting on?”
    “Damn, I never thought of that!” exclaimed Sheriff McCoy. “Waterboarding Blue-Claw threatens the integrity of the game.”
    “For the children, may I attend Blue-Claw’s interrogation?” asked Coen somberly. “If I cannot stop it, I can at least expose the outrage.”
    “Colonel Czerinski will never allow the press at an interrogation.”
    “It’s your jail. You decide what’s allowed.”
    “That’s right! Okay, you can sit in. Be warned, the CIA will be present. Sit in the corner and shut up, or you’ll probably be next in the