Friday, June 26, 2015

Obliteration By Barry K. Nelson





Title: Obliteration
Author: Barry K. Nelson
Genre: Science-Fiction
The three reprogrammed Brelac Reploids forming the special team Silencers still faithfully serve the United Protectorate under the watchful monitoring of the Central Intelligence Division. Stationed on Maseklos Prime, Colin McKenzie, Diane Christy, and Kelly Lytton are called to a hostage scene and end up with clues that lead to the elusive Dr. Arthur Trevors. Although initially a traitor who worked undercover with the Brelac, Trevors was in large part responsible for the capture and reprogramming of Colin, Diane, and Kelly so they could serve their current function as weapons for the Protectorate. The war with the Brelac is not going well, and the Silencers are given an advanced warp-drive ship and sent beyond their home quadrant, Poseidon, to the last known coordinates of a missing ship. Their mission is to locate the missing ship, part of an original task force of five ships sent out to find other human colonies and enlist their help with the war against the Brelac. As soon as Colin and his team leave the quadrant, they run into trouble, and things go downhill from there. They find themselves in the midst of a war between local factions on a planet far from home and feel obliged to aid the human faction against a clearly superior force that seems to have help from a monster who leaves a wake of death and destruction wherever it goes. The more they find out, the weirder things get, and they end up stranded with no way home, much less any hope of completing their original mission to find the lost task force ship. This new enemy they face seems invincible, and they wonder if they’ll survive as everything and everyone around them is destroyed. Maybe this time not even their Reploid powers will save them. But what other hope does humanity have?

            Colin had that usual nervous feeling stinging in the middle of
his stomach while he was riding in the front seat of the new car
that the CID had given him, Diane, and Kelly. Finally we get a vehicle
of our own. No more having to depend on shuttles, taxis, or the
subway to get around, he mused. The only drawback to this was
having Diane as a driver. Impulsive and bad tempered, she’d just
received her driver’s license two weeks ago. Even with the tight
safety belt strapped across his torso, Colin was still not feeling
secure as he watched Diane jerk the steering wheel to the left and
right in order to weave in and out of the four lanes of traffic on the
streets of Navarone to reach their destination. Colin imagined that
Kelly, riding in the back seat, was feeling the same way – and
maybe car sick too. He looked a little green in the face, not a good
color for his blond hair he’d recently had cut in a shorter style. Over
the sound of their car’s wailing siren, Colin heard Kelly yip as they
came up close and fast to another vehicle. Diane swerved at the last
moment to avoid a collision.
            I should have gotten my license before Diane, Colin scolded
himself. He looked over at her wearing a black tee‐shirt and jeans,
with a broad smile on her face. The white sneaker on her right foot
shifted frequently from the brake to the accelerator pedal. With the
air from the open window blowing through her long black hair, she
looked like she was on a joy ride, except for the large laser pistol
holstered at her right hip.
            “Do you mind slowing down?” Colin asked. “We want to at
least get there alive.”
            “Slow down?” Diane teased with a laugh. “We have to get
there before those Reploid jackasses kill the hostages. You heard
the report. Their hour deadline is almost up!”
            “I know,” Colin replied sourly. What a way to start the
morning!
            Twenty minutes ago, he was sleeping in his quarters back at
the military base when he was awakened by a phone call from CID
Captain Melony Carter, informing him that Vendetta terrorists had
taken several civilians hostage in an office building and were
threatening to kill them, then detonate a nuclear bomb that was
hidden somewhere in Navarone, unless the government agreed to
release Vendetta operatives from the penal moon Taraxis in the
Tacoma System. Carter also reported that one of the terrorists was
observed using paranormal abilities – Reploid abilities. And that
was why he and Diane and Kelly had been called. Their team, the
Silencers, was the only defense against Reploids, because they were
Reploids too, reconditioned and turned against Vendetta to serve
the Protectorate.
            After the call from Carter, Colin had less than ten minutes
before Diane and Kelly would pick him up, which gave him very
little time to throw on some blue jeans, black shirt, and white
sneakers, and rush to the base’s main gate. By the time he got there,
Diane and Kelly were waiting for him in the black car that now
sped along the highway, careening and swerving through heavy
traffic.
            “If we’re going into a dangerous situation, I think I’d rather
get killed by the bad guys than by a member of my own team,” Kelly
said. He thrust out his hand between Diane and Colin, pointing at
the windshield and shouting, “Car, car, car!”
            “I see it!” Diane shouted back.
            Colin held his breath as he watched their car make a rapid
approach to the rear end of a blue car up ahead. Diane jerked the
steering wheel to the right, and the car swerved into the right lane
to avoid it. Colin was hoping that during the excitement, Diane
would not forget her Reploid strength and accidentally rip the
steering wheel away from the column.
            Colin exhaled, but not out of a sense of relief. “Diane! Truck up
ahead!”
            “I’m on it.” She steered the car to the left to avoid crashing
into the rear end of a red pickup truck. She mashed her foot down
on the accelerator pedal, and the car sped up ahead of the truck,
fishtailed in front of it, then skidded toward an intersection. With
tires squealing, they made a sharp right turn and headed down the
road towards a large crowd. People scattered as their car came to a
screeching halt a few feet away, the momentum jerking Colin’s
body forward.
            “We’re here,” Diane announced.
            “We’re alive,” Colin jabbed. He was amazed that they had
survived being passengers in a vehicle with Diane behind the
wheel. His heart was still pounding when he looked over at her, but
not from a romantic feeling. And they want to train her to be a pilot?
            Diane punched a small touchpad at the right side of the
steering wheel, and the blaring siren quieted. “Okay, let’s do this,”
she said, lunging out of the car.
            Colin and Kelly exited the car. Colin took a second glance at
Kelly. His blue cut‐off denim shorts, green tank top, and black
sneakers without socks made him look ready for a day at the beach
rather than a hostage situation.
            They moved through the crowd of onlookers and came upon a
police roadblock. A five‐foot‐high blue barrier of glowing energy
stretched across the road between two black metal poles. On the
other side of the barrier, three uniformed police officers stood near
their patrol cars with red bar lights flashing. As Colin, Diane, and
Kelly approached the barrier, an officer on the other side walked
over and held up his hand. “Sorry. The road is blocked off. Police
emergency,” he told them in a stern tone.
            In unison, Colin, Diane, and Kelly reached into their pockets
and brought out the black billfolds that held their badges and
identification. “We’re with the CID. Silencers,” Colin explained.
            “Lieutenant Copeland is expecting us.”
            “Silencers?” the officer inquired. He pressed the keypad on the
small remote attached to his belt and spoke into the microphone
attached to his earbuds. “Lieutenant, there are three people here
claiming to be from CID. They call themselves Silencers.” After a
brief moment, the officer said, “Understood,” then reached into his
pocket and brought out a small black remote. He pressed a key on
the remote and a section of the barrier faded away to allow Colin,
Diane, and Kelly to pass.
            They proceeded until they came upon a cluster of vehicles
with flashing red lights parked in the middle of the street – several
police cars in front of and behind two large black armored vans
with ‘SWAT’ emblazoned on the sides. Several uniformed and
plain‐clothes officers crouched down behind the vehicles with their
laser guns aimed at a building several feet away. The SWAT
officers, clad in their heavy black body armor, aimed their laser
rifles at the building. Several robotic assault units, black five‐foot
cylinder‐shaped bodies supported by four thick spider‐like legs,
targeted the building with twin heavy laser guns mounted on their
sides, ready to quash any threat that might emerge from the
building.
            Several feet in front of the police barricade, a chaotic mess of
bloody dismembered bodies – civilians and police – lay scattered
among demolished vehicles.
            “Maybe it would be a good idea to keep our heads down,”
Kelly suggested.
            Colin nodded. A wise idea. He crouched down, along with
Diane and Kelly, and approached two officers who were kneeling
behind a police car. “We’re Silencers, with the CID,” Colin said,
displaying his badge. “Lieutenant Copeland is expecting us.”
            The officer pointed to the left. “He’s over there. I’ll call him.”
The officer pressed a key on the remote attached to his belt, then
spoke into his microphone. A few seconds later, Colin looked to his
left and saw the familiar sight of Lieutenant Copeland, in his
thirties with bushy black hair, carrying a laser gun as he
approached in a crouched position. His black suit, grey shirt, and
black necktie appeared a bit rumpled – understandable, given the
situation.
            “Silencers from the CID. I haven’t seen you three since the
Mertz case,” said Copeland. There was a wide‐eyed expression of
surprise on his face. “The CID sent you to handle this situation?”
            “We’re the best qualified,” replied Colin. “What’s going on?”
            “A group of eleven male suspects walked into the lobby of the
Universal Industries building and killed the three security guards
at the reception station. They then proceeded up to the building’s
twenty‐fifth floor, where they took a number of hostages. Four
officers responded to the alarm that the security guards set off, but
they never made it out alive. We’ve evacuated the building to avoid
any further civilian casualties. So far, the terrorists have the entire
twenty‐fifth floor under their control.”
            “I see that SWAT is here,” said Colin, pointing to the black
vans. “Did they try to storm the building and retake the floor?”
            “Yeah, but their first attempt was a disaster. One of the
terrorists has some kind of energy weapon that we’ve never seen
before. Its effect is pretty damn gruesome. I’m sure that you’ve
seen the aftermath up ahead.”
            Colin raised his head to take another look at the wreckage and
bodies. What kind of weapon could have caused all this damage? He
eyed the wrecked cars. Sections of some vehicles were left intact,
while other sections appeared to be crumpled like tin foil. “The cars
look like they were crushed somehow.”
            “More like imploded,” Copeland corrected. “It’s a hell of a way
to die. We lost six officers. As far as we can tell, they’re using some
sort of implosion beam weapon. All forms of personal protection
we have are useless against it. And we have several witnesses that
have stated that they didn’t actually see the terrorist using a
weapon, but he was actually using his bare hands. Maybe in all the
excitement, they didn’t get a good look at what was happening. You
guys think you can go up against something like that?”
            Colin was starting to wonder the same thing himself, but no
use alarming others by admitting it. “This falls within our area of
expertise. Have the terrorists made any other demands besides the
one‐hour deadline to release Vendetta agents from the prison
moon, Taraxis?”
            “No. But if we don’t meet their demand, they’ll kill all the
hostages and detonate a nuclear device that they have hidden
someplace in the city. We’re up against a rock and a hard place

here. If you have any solutions, I’m all ears.”

Author Bio

A Pennsylvania native, Barry K. Nelson has attended college and has worked at a variety of jobs, including retail and the corporate environment. Barry enjoys reading and gardening and is a fan of science fiction and horror movies, Marvel comic collecting, and the X-box 360.

Barry has written short stories, and his first book in the science fiction series, The McKenzie Files, is soon to be followed by a sequel, Assassination Anxiety.

Barry is a member of Ning and Goodreads, can be found on Facebook, and can also be reached through Penumbra Publishing.


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