Reverence

  REVERENCE

  "In a great story by debut author Joshua Aaron Landeros, Reverence: Volume One will grab readers from the very start and will keep them reading obsessively through until the very end." (Reader's Favorite)

  "Five stars to Reverence. Readers will come away exhausted by the nonstop-explosive action and satisfied by the climactic conclusion."(Publishers Daily Reviews)

  "The story does such a good job of unfolding its mystery that it can be hard to put down once the seeds of doubt are planted in William's and the reader's mind."(The US Review of Books)

  "In times such as ours, this book functions as a timely reminder of a government’s true purpose, and the lengths that some people will go to in order to protect their freedom...Will is an antihero for any age, someone who has been duped into the dark side and must claw his way back into the light."(The Self-Publishing Review)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Monsters

  Chapter 2: Will to Power

  Chapter 3: People Skills

  Chapter 4: An Old Acquaintance

  Chapter 5: The Evasive Flaw

  Chapter 6: The Eulogy

  Chapter 7: Exhibition

  Chapter 8: War and the Sword

  Chapter 9: The Beach

  Chapter 10: Frivolity

  Chapter 11: Weapon of Choice

  Chapter 12: The Ghost Town

  Chapter 13: One Last Attempt

  Chapter 14: Darkness Descends

  Chapter 15: Pathetic Condition

  Chapter 16: Solitude

  Chapter 17: Humility

  Chapter 18: Here Come the Tears

  Chapter 19: Loyalty

  Chapter 20: God’s Gift

  Chapter 21: Dogs

  Chapter 22: Redemption

  Chapter 23: Everlasting Perfection

  Chapter 24: Internal Siege

  Chapter 25: Immolation Galore

  Chapter 26: Bravo

  Chapter 27: Resting Place

  Chapter 28: Sweet Savour

  About the Author:

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  Chapter 1 – The Monsters

  April 4, 2065 - Hamadan Air Base, Iran

  From the heavens, a peculiar aircraft began to descend on the airfield. Its ominous shadow passed over the smaller jets and choppers below, causing all work to cease. The mysterious aircraft then circled the area, drawing all eyes to it. As everyone continued to watch, the commanding officer preemptively removed his hat.

  “So we’re finally up.”

  He looked at his men. They’re ready to shit themselves already…

  “What do we do?” one of them asked desperately.

  “Everybody at ease, I’ll handle it.”

  The boosters on the bottom of the Cruiser produced a fiery orange glow and created a gust of wind that picked up dust. The sleek object’s landing legs protruded outwards as it finally touched the ground. Its silver plating shined brightly in the sunlight. On its side was a single area of black, serving as a backdrop for two red stripes running downwards in a slant. The jagged stripes looked rather like bolts of lightning. In the center was an arrow-halo symbol, the arrow being a dark blue and the halo a grayish white. The arrangement made it appear that the arrow was piercing the halo. The unmistakable UNR emblem recognized the colonel.

  The Cruiser was the size of a private plane, yet so much more majestic than anything these men had ever seen. The door folded open as integral steps were revealed to walk on. The colonel stepped forth from the onlooking crowd, scratching his fuzzy face. Out came a man in his late forties wearing a gray military overcoat decorated with medals. He also wore a pair of aviator sunglasses reflective enough for a person to see their own face in them. His small military cap also displayed the UNR sigil.

  He made his way down the steps, taking note of everything. It’s familiar in a way, Kane thought, but he of course was thinking way back to 2045. Back then, the whole airfield would have been littered with bodies and pools of blood, and the smoke would have blotted out the sun. Today the sky was full of clouds, adding to the nostalgia. Ah, the gore days.

  “Commander Kane,” greeted the colonel, saluting before bowing respectively. Every soldier around him did the same before going about their business.

  “Ah, you and your men do too much,” Kane said, as the colonel straightened himself.

  “Not at all, sir, we are honored to have you visit our base. What brings you all the way from the UNR to my airfield?” he asked politely.

  Commander Kane looked at the colonel with distaste, and then looked up at the glaring sun. A slight breeze did little to help against the heat, but he liked that.

  “I’m guessing you’re in charge here...” Kane said, waiting for a position, and knowing his presence would instill a sense of sincerity.

  “Colonel Husan, sir.”

  “Husan, I’ll get right to the point. Last night UNR radar picked up a small plane flying over the Caribbean, we assume on its way to Providencia Island. It was captured of course, and in the salvage, we found a large payload of weapons. Someone has been very underhanded, and while internationally it is being written off as a single occurrence, our intel says otherwise. The weapons seized aren’t particularly hard to acquire, but our database lists this base as a place of interest,” Kane said. To his surprise, Husan’s face didn’t change.

  “I understand your concern sir, but we’ve been up to date with UNR regulation. Our firearm cache is barely beyond one per serviceman, let alone extras to be handing out.”

  “Indeed it is,” responded Kane with a smile, “but as required, we will be conducting an inventory verification process as demanded by the Chancellor.”

  “I would think so,” Husan said agreeably.

  Husan’s grin vanished as two figures stepped out of the UNR Cruiser. A chill rushed down his spine in spite of the blazing sun. The toll of the day’s labor melted away as they stepped closer. He felt sick to his stomach, as if in the presence of a famished beast. The colonel knew those two men before him could take out every person here without so much as breaking a sweat. Could they even sweat? An irrelevant question yes, but one he couldn’t help to ask himself. He’d heard rumors, but he’d never met a super soldier in the flesh. They were sometimes called super soldiers, but more commonly, cyborgs.

  “Let me introduce you to my colleagues. This is S.S.C. Unit 18, Luis,” he said, gesturing toward the green-eyed one, “and, this is S.S.C. Unit 21, Will.”

  Luis looked as if he were only in his early twenties. His skin was fair with a slight tan. A small thin mustache was the only facial hair on his clean-shaven face. His long overcoat was a dark shade of blue and his short black hair was fashioned into a Caesar haircut, though even shorter on the sides and in the back. His eyes were a forest green and he wore a cocky smile.

  Will looked like he may have been in his early thirties, his skin a caramel color, with dark brown eyes in contrast. His black hair was curly, yet had a sheen to it, and his overcoat was menacing, black as night. A crimson bandanna was tied around his forehead.

  Both wore slim-fit gray body armor over their chest and abdomen, with a long-sleeve black shirt underneath and black leather gloves. They also wore a belt with the UNR seal on the buckle. Hanging from Will’s belt was the sheath of a long sword, modeled closely after an 1840 Cavalry Saber. Luis had one on each side of his hip. These were more similar to the 1860 Light Cavalry Saber. Also, the colonel finally noted, the brown-eyed one had a thin scar going down his right cheek.

  They stood next to their commander, silent and awaiting orders, their dead eyes locked onto Husan. Kane was pleased with the colonel’s face. He could see the fear in it.

  Kane summed it up for him, “As general of the SSF, I naturally had to bring two of my best. T
hey will be making the inspection.”

  “Right, you may proceed whenever ready.”

  Kane nodded, and the two cyborgs made their way toward the facility’s entrance. The colonel watched as they did, relief flooding through him. After the war that led to his country’s unconditional surrender, he’d never wanted to see the UNR emblem within proximity of him, especially when brandished by a couple of cyborgs. At least the beasts were away from him personally.

  Will and Luis entered the military base, which wasn’t much cooler than it was outside. They stepped into the registration office and workers stopped dead in their tracks upon the sight of them. They next entered the mess hall, at the time full of hungry soldiers.

  “Everybody, remain at ease,” said Will aloud, as if he were their commanding officer, “this mandatory inspection will be as brief as possible. Go back to your daily routines.”

  Still, most of the soldiers couldn’t help but keep at least one eye on them. Others exchanged nervous glances with one another. No one muttered a single word though, leaving the once noisy mess hall in a dull silence.

  Both men could sense the intimidation their presence caused, and Will kept an indifferent expression on his face as he focused on the task. Luis, however, couldn’t help but smile. He found it pathetic, yet amusing.

  The soldiers continued to watch the two until they left the room and entered the hallway. Now alone, Luis felt more inclined to talk.

  “What did you think of Kane’s entrance?” he asked, as they strolled down the empty hallway. “And then having us walk out after him, classic. The man oughta write for a show or something.”

  “Yup, millions would tune in,” Will answered, sarcastically.

  “That aside, all I ask today is that you be as quick about this as I intend to be. I was quite enjoying The Big Trail and I’m dying to get back to the Cruiser so I can finish watching it.”

  “At my quickest, this could still take several hours. If you had agreed to split the bases up for the inventory checks, we’d be done with the list by now. And if you put on another Western, I’m literally going to slip into a coma.”

  “Screw that, doing this crap solo would be ten times as boring, and fine, after The Big Trail, you can pick a movie.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that option,” Will said. “In the end, I’ll probably end up going to you for recommendations anyway.”

  “As always, I’m glad I can be of service.”

  As they walked on, Will saw a soldier staring at them out of the corner of his eye. When they passed, he took a swig from a water bottle to feign boredom. The super soldier kept his eyes focused in front of him at all times. To anybody watching, his stares were mere blinks, and though appearing passive to the details, his sensors were nitpicking every scrap of information. It was time to apply pressure.

  “You’re clearly not even paying attention. What is it?” Luis asked. He could tell something was on his partner’s mind and that annoyed him, especially when he was going on about recommendations.

  “Nothing, really. Can you check the lockers and barracks? Standard searches, and send your immediate findings to the Network.”

  “Sounds like fun. And you’re off to where?”

  “The hangar.”

  Luis nodded, struggling to hide his boredom. They might as well have kept me in hibernation mode for this dull shit. It was monotonous work and he couldn’t stand it. Most of all, he hated having to wait for another’s move, but here it seemed they had nothing else to go on.

  Will watched as Luis left, and then headed for his destination. There, in solitude, he would begin his work of counting.

  The cyborg entered the dark and lonely chamber. Not a soul was present at the hangar, although there were a few remaining aircrafts. He observed a few classic ones, like the F-22s. The stale air reeked of dormancy, though a few aircraft looked as if they’d been receiving minor touch ups recently. The roll sheet automatically scrolled on his HUD, counting each one individually as he went.

  Will rounded a corner and then locked onto an interesting sight: a Boeing 707, the same model acquired last night. In this spacious chamber, he could see several. It was a simple matter of calculation to see if the numbers in the data matched up with what was here.

  Will approached the aircraft leisurely, noticing the ramp was down. As he did, he saw large crates in the cargo hold. He put the inventory count aside for a moment, his curiosity directing him toward the rear of the plane. At the foot of the ramp, the soldier stepped on a small object and he stopped to see what it was. Despite the darkness, his vision was enhanced enough to make it out: a medium sized bullet, probably belonging to an automatic weapon. He knelt down on one knee to retrieve it, cautiously picking it up. Next, he would take a gander inside the crates, where he assumed he would find more of the same. It was then he felt the barrel of an SPAS-15 shotgun against the back of his head.

  “Don’t move!” the scared voice said, although the gun was steady.

  “Stand down, soldier. This inventory check-up is standard procedure,” Will said.

  “Shut the hell up!!” he yelled. “You shut the hell up!! Put your hands on your head!”

  “Listen...”

  “Fuckin’ DO IT!!” he yelled even louder, cocking the shotgun.

  Will raised his hands, not sure what the soldier would do next. He obviously had to be at least of legal age, yet Will’s ears registered the voice of a teenager. Well, perhaps he is. The poor boy’s voice cracked as he barked the command, and he could hear his rapid breathing. Still, that gun was planted firmly on the back of his skull.

  “So what now, soldier?” Will asked calmly.

  “I pull this trigger,” he said as beads of sweat rolled down his neck, “and you go to hell.”

  “As nervous as you sound, one would never guess you’ve ever even killed a man,” Will taunted.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment. The day I’d finally take a crack at one of you monsters,” he boasted. “Your death will mean nothing. You’re not even a man.”

  Will felt a chill run down his spine.

  The soldier felt the urge to look up, and just as well. Standing atop the Boeing 707, he saw a large silhouette, watching the altercation without a word. Noting the eerily calm silence of the man, the soldier’s boldness hit a brick wall.

  Luis cracked his neck before leaping off the top of the plane, one of his thirty-five-inch swords drawn. He swung downwards as he landed on his feet, slicing right into the soldier’s joint. The left forearm was cut clean off, leaving the soldier screaming in pain. He grasped his stump of an arm, which sprayed a quick gush of blood, before he fell in agony.

  “And you say I like to mess around,” Luis scoffed.

  “I was going to lead him on a little further before beating something out of him, but you just couldn’t go along with it for even five minutes,” Will said dryly as he rose to his feet. The chill subsided now that he was in the presence of his partner.

  “Looked to me like you were fucking with him, but I’m pretty sure we can salvage this operation.”

  About twenty-five feet away, more soldiers were approaching. They took positions behind a few crates in perfect silence, each of their weapons aimed directly at the two cyborgs. For now, the two UNR dogs remained where they were, standing over the downed soldier. Just as the soldiers were preparing to shoot, a loud voice echoed through the hangar:

  “Hey, hey you guys ducking your heads like jackasses over there!” Luis called out to them in a laugh, “We see you guys, all three of ya.”

  The men were thrown off by the remark, but it did not deter their aim. Their position no longer viable, one of them spoke:

  “Step away from the soldier and we can all walk away from this, okay? No one needs to die.”

  Luis looked back at Will for a moment. Unfortunately, his partner’s hostile gaze was frozen on the enemy position. Unit 18, on the other hand, tried his hardest not to laugh. He returned his eyes to the soldiers.


  “The way I see it, you owe my friend Will here an apology. Your little accomplice has been an awful host.”

  “He’s a kid, he panicked,” argued the man, “he’s clearly paid the price for his stupidity. Return him to our custody so he can be treated and punished accordingly.”

  It was at this point the comedic banter from Luis came to a crashing halt.

  “I’m afraid he’s coming with us. The kid didn’t panic out of the blue, now did he? He knows something, and it’s our duty to detain and question.”

  The wounded soldier looked up groggily, his severed arm still bleeding profusely. Now he was in question, but it sounded like his comrades were intent on not letting them take him. God bless you brothers.

  After a bit of silence, the soldier spoke back, “I cannot allow that.”

  “Then you’ve officially fucked yourself,” Luis said calmly. Will now began to walk toward the trio without a word. Their aim focused on him, as he kept moving forward without a moment’s hesitation.

  “STOP!” the man yelled feebly.

  Will didn’t, and the soldiers decided to open fire. The sound of guns was something trivial to him. He felt the first few bullets connect, striking his chest armor harmlessly before dropping to the floor.

  The soldiers were stunned to see the barrage of bullets had been ineffective, but one kept firing anyway as the other two backed up. He tried to outsmart the cyborg by quickly raising his aim and targeting his face instead. Will was no, however, was no slouch.

  At that point, Unit21 leaped into the air. The trio panicked and their aim became erratic.

  By the time Will landed on top of the crate, his sword was drawn. His first target was the one to the left of the leader. One swipe of his blade and the soldier’s gun was cleaved in two. Before the troop could even absorb what had just happened, Will finished it. With a single kick, the soldier’s jaw was smashed and his lifeless body flew against a plane with a thud.

  The other two fired wildly at Will to no avail, as the cyborg used his saber to cut their firearms down to the handgrips. The talker pulled out a large switchblade in a last futile attempt to combat the cyborg. Will grabbed his wrist and twisted it, the man’s scream nearly louder than the sickening snap of bone. The man collapsed in agony, down for the count. Will then turned to the lonely last man standing, who shook with fear, quickly throwing his own pistol and switch blade aside.