Trick Soldier by L. Ron Hubbard

Author:L. Ron Hubbard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure
Publisher: Galaxy Press
Published: 2013-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Machine Gun 21,000

Machine Gun 21,000

JAMES C. BUTTERICK, known to the Marine Corps as “Major Butterball,” stamped into the thatch-roofed hut, shedding water and liquid mud from his slicker. His face was red, beaten by the persistent rain of Nicaragua, irritated by the vast annoyance of his mission.

“Ojos Verdes” glanced up from the desk made of empty cartridge cases. He pulled himself to his feet and waited for the major to speak. Ojos Verdes was blacker than night, as tall as a palm, as silent as a graveyard. He was a sergeant of the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua, a perfect soldier, boasting pure African ancestry in spite of the jade green of his eyes. His right name was Bautista, but almost everyone had forgotten that.

“Where,” demanded Major Butterball, “is Captain Blake?”

Ojos Verdes shook his head. “In the hills, Major. He should return presently.”

“What’s the matter with the hills?” demanded the major truculently. “Did he lose his company?”

“Election troubles, doubtless,” said Ojos Verdes.

“Damn this rain,” choked the major, shedding his slicker. “Three weeks and no sign of blue sky. Send for Lieutenant Jerome.”

“He, too, has gone,” replied Ojos Verdes.

“Has he found that damn machine gun?” demanded the major.

“No, sir.”

“Then it’s too bad for him. That’s what comes of putting him in command here. He’ll lose his head next. Damn him anyway. I’ve been writing letters and getting letters for three weeks about that machine gun. I’m tired of explaining. It’s too bad for Captain Blake.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ojos Verdes.

“If,” said the major, “it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t even get a daily report from here.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ojos Verdes. “I try to keep the paperwork up, sir, but—”

“But what?”

“But Captain Blake never has any data to give me, sir. He—he forgets it—or loses it.”

“Loses it, eh? Well, I told them down at Managua they were dumb. I told them what would happen if they put Blake in charge up here. Oh, this is a pretty kettle of fish. You know why Blake was sent here, don’t you?”

Ojos Verdes looked interested. It was not exactly military for the major to talk about Blake, but Ojos Verdes was listening.

“He lost a bass drum, that’s what. Yes, a bass drum. You wouldn’t think it was possible, eh? Well, it is. Blake lost it on the road from Washington to Quantico. Lost it out of his truck. That’s one for you. Good soldiers don’t lose things. He never kept a record in his life, and never failed to lose anything that wasn’t nailed down. That’s a soldier for you.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ojos Verdes. “I try, Major, but I cannot keep up the records alone.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Major Butterball, striding up and down the creaky, wet floor, knew that he should not talk to a sergeant like this, but then Blake’s final mistake made it all right. Losing a machine gun. For heaven’s sake!

They both heard the plodding, sucking sound of a horse coming down the trail. Through the doorless entrance, they saw Blake ride up to them in the drenching downpour.

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