The Seryys Chronicles: Death Wish

by Joseph Nicholson

  He stood in front of the mirror, giving himself a once-over. He was wearing the blue uniform of a Seryys City Peace Officer, complete with a flak jacket, wrist restraints and utility belt. He holstered his beloved weapon and walked out the door.

  It only took him a few minutes to get to the station. He walked in through the sliding door into a group of people who were standing in awe of the living legend who had just entered the building. After a few moments of hero worship, Captain Byyner came out and broke it up.

  “All right, all right. We all know who this is, he clearly needs no introduction. However, he doesn’t know any of you.”

  “Khai, this is the Seryys City Anti-Terrorism Team, or SCATT. Your commanding officer is Captain Dack’Tandy Dah. Your demolitions expert is Pual’Branen Puar-”

  “Hey are you?” Khai interrupted to ask.

  “Yes, he’s my older brother.”

  “He’s a good man. We fought side-by-side in many battles—including Seryys Four—I am honored to work with anyone from his family.”

  Dack’Tandy Dah was about the same height as Khai, same build too. His hazel eyes were cold and hard, his hair was black as night in the country, slicked back and he had a five o’clock shadow.

  Puar was a spitting image of his older brother Prime Minister Pual’Kin Puar. Had they been born on the same day, one would have thought that they were twins. The only difference between the two was that Pual’Kin was brought up on Gor’Tsu Gorn Planet and was built like someone who was raised on a planet with a higher gravitational pull. Pual’Branen was still built and strong by Seryys standards but nothing like his brother.

  The captain went on. “The other three are just good at shooting things. They’re Koon, Naad and Brix.”

  Koon was a skinny toothpick with dark hair and eyes. He wore a cocky grin on his face at all times. Naad was of average height and build, his skin was a dark mocha and so were his eyes. Brix was a hulking man that rivaled Khai and Dah in size and almost in strength. He had blonde hair and green eyes that looked like nobody was home.

  “Now everyone, this is Colonel Khai’Xander Khail.”

  “It’s not Colonel anymore—technically, anyway, I’m a civilian now. Just call me Khai.”

  “You got it,” Koon said.

  “Now, quit your lollygagging! We work for a living here. Get suited up and ready to go. The slums are still burning and the gangs are in control. We have officers trying to contain the gangs twenty-four hours a day but we’re losing ground. We’re going to airlift you guys behind them and I want you to sneak up on them and kill every… last… one of them.”

  “Deadly force?”

  “Extreme prejudice. Minster Trall gave me the order directly. Now that’s not a charge card to go hog wild. We need to keep collateral damage to a minimum.”

  “Hey, Cap’, it’s us you’re talking to,” Puar said.

  “That’s why I felt compelled to say something,” Byyner said, deadpan. “Now the chopper is waiting, get going!”

  They filed into the backroom where the lockers were located. They suited up into their riot gear and brandished their own favorite weapons.

  The captain favored a Seryys Combat Full-Auto, 23-10:25-.75, it was a standard military-grade machine gun that all soldiers were trained on. Khai’s first weapon proficiency and expert status was on a 23-10.

  “Were you in the SCGF?” Khai asked him.

  “Did my five years and called it quits. I felt I could make a bigger difference planet-side, rather than on distant worlds.”

  “It’s definitely not for everybody,” Khai admitted.

  “Why’d you retire?” Captain Dah asked.

  Khai’s stomach knotted up. “Got tired of killing Vyysarri and watching my friends, who I grew up with, die.” It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

  “That’s it? I thought you hardened war vets didn’t mind the violent lifestyle.”

  Khai took a breath to spout out a lie when Puar interrupted. “Hey! Is that a 92-30 series?”

  “Sure is,” Khai said, pulling it from its thigh holster and handing it over to Puar. “Your brother was big fan of this weapon, too.”

  “Man, they don’t make ‘em like this anymore,” Puar marveled, feeling the weight. “How many in the clip?”

  “It’s an extended mag; ten in clip, one in the chamber,” Khai explained, taking the gun back and putting in its holster.

  “That’s a sweet gun,” Naad said. “But don’t you need a main weapon? I mean, that’s great for a sidearm and all…” he trailed the sentence off when he got an intimidating glare from Khai.

  “It’s all I need,” Khai said seriously. “Now, what are you packing?”

  “These babies.” From two thigh holsters, he brandished a pair of Seryys Combat Super-Auto submachine guns. “These are 21-120 series. In fact, they’re 121 and 122:10-.50s. Got’em as a package deal.”

  “Are you accurate with them?” Khai asked.

  “No need to accurate when you’re firing ten rounds a second, baby!” Naad laughed, his brown eyes sparkling and crow’s feet forming in the dark skin at the corners of his eyes.

  “Those are nice popguns!” Koon said. “You want a good weapon that takes skill and accuracy? Check this out!” He tossed his weapon to Khai.

  Khai caught it but knew exactly what it was before it was even thrown. He was an expert on this weapon as well. “It’s a Seryys Combat Semi-Auto 31-54:35-1 Pro with a ten-ex zoom, electronic scope. I got one just like it in my storage unit; only its number is 31-1.”

  “The prototype?”

  “You got it,” Khai grinned. “How about you Puar? I know you all want to show off your toys, and you started this whole conversation, so let’s see it.”

  Puar’s eyes widened and he grinned. “This is my baby, a Seryys Combat 35-130:12-2.5, Grenade Launcher. I make things go boom.”

  “How about you, Brix?” Khai asked.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see once we’re out there.”

  “Ooh,” Khai said, rubbing his hands together. “The suspense is killing me.”

  They all laughed as they marched up the stairwell to the roof access point where their chopper was waiting. It was dual-propeller chopper, one on either side like wings, with an afterburner good for speedy evacs and surprise attacks.

  They filed in and buckled up. Just as Khai fastened his restraints, the pilot howled a war cry and kicked in the afterburners once the chopper was less than a foot off the landing pad. The pilot swooped low between skyscrapers and under pedestrian bridges. At one point, he went almost belly up and skimmed the side of a building so close Khai could have reach down and touched the glass of the windows.

  “Okay!” the pilot shouted. “Hang onto your hats!”

  The pilot yanked back on the yoke and sent the chopper into an almost vertical climb and then dove down. Khai, sitting forward, could see the ground looming up and a crowd of angry rioters and gangbangers firing at an overwhelmed group of officers. Suddenly, the co-pilot opened fire with a high-caliber chain gun on the rioters, mowing them down.

  The pilot pulled up at the last minute, so late into the dive that the wind force from the chopper blades knocked many of the gangbangers down.

  The ones that didn’t get mowed down by the first, and apparently only diving attack, were left for Khai and his fellow soldiers to clean up. This mob of people was only a fraction of what was going on all over Lower Seryys; this particular riot was threatening to move south into the Corporate Sector, which could have catastrophic consequences.

  The chopper swooped about and hovered 20 feet off the road between two vandalized apartment complexes. Khai and Captain Dah simply leapt from the chopper, while the others repelled by rope to the road. Finally, Brix unzipped the bag in which his gun was stored. He flipped the strap over his head and popped the two clips in.

  “Now that’s a gun!” Puar said.

  “It’s a-” Brix was about to say.

  “Seryys Combat F
ull-Auto 23-2:30-.75 Special with Dual Magazines and a bandoleer attachment,” Khai interrupted. “I’ve trained on that weapon, too.”

  The gun had two magazines secured to the lower forearm, protruding downward at a forty-five degree angle. From the front, it looked like an upside-down “V”. The gun was actually illegal, but the police force pulled some strings to allow him to have it.

  “All right, ladies,” the captain said. “We’ve got forty blocks to huff and then a tough fight. Let’s get this over with and get our paychecks.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Khai asked.

  “Minister Trall suggested a surprise attack from behind. Catch them off guard.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. Why?” the captain asked with an angry tone.

  “That’s not going to work in the slightest. We won’t take them by surprise, you know that.”

  “But that’s what Trall-”

  “To hell with what Trall said! I don’t know him, but he’s clearly an idiot,” Khai spat out.

  “Okay,” Dah said, “What’s your idea?”

  “We take the alleys, get ahead of them. Then we take up firing positions in the abandoned buildings on both sides and rain bullets as they pass.”

  “That’s text book,” Captain Dah said.

  “The only way to be,” Khai replied.

  They ran twenty blocks and then split up, ducking into the darkness of the alleys and covered the rest of the distance. From ten blocks out, they could hear the gunfire and shouting. Koon and Puar went with Khai on the north side of the street, while Captain Dah, Naad and Brix took the south side. They worked their way five blocks past the crowd and, by radio, signaled for a stop. They entered the buildings and made their way to their positions.

  Khai ordered Puar to the roof and Koon, with his sniper rifle, to the top floor of the six-story building. Being an expert sniper, he knew that the key was to shoot and relocate and the top floor was perfect because most of the walls had been knocked out. Khai took up a shooting position from a fourth floor window that gave him plenty of vision of the whole street.

  “Khai to Dah,” Khai whispered into his throat mike.

  “Dah here. Go ahead, Khai.”

  “You guys ready?”

  “Affirmative,” the captain said. “We’ve taken up firing positions on the fifth floor.”

  “Good.”

  “Make the call, Colonel.”

  “Wait for my signal then open fire.”

  “What’s the signal?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it. Khai out.” Khai switched channels. “Puar, you read me?”

  “I’m here. Go ahead.”

  “How far can you launch a grenade?”

  “’bout a hundred and fifty yards. Why?”

  “As soon as they’re in range, I want you to fire a grenade directly behind the crowd. Take out as many as you can. But I don’t want the riot police to be harmed. And Koon, wait for my signal to start firing. Okay?”

  “Got it, sir,” Koon’s voice came over the com.

  In short order, the riot police came backpedaling into view. The sheer volume of rioters packed into the streets almost took Khai’s breath away. Even from this distance, he could pick out the ringleaders- they were the ones carrying the military-grade guns.

  “Koon,” Khai whispered into his mike again. “Take out the guys in front, the ones with the big guns on my mark.”

  “I’m all over it!”

  The riot police weren’t even firing back by the time they reached the buildings in which Khai and the others were waiting. They were dragging injured away from the fight and radioing for help or evac.

  The first line of rioters came into view when the first explosion echoed off the building walls sending the back ranks of rioters sprawling in all directions, and the front ranks surging forward directly into the line of fire. Almost immediately, Dah’s team opened fire from the building across the street. The tough guys spun to that building and opened fire as Dah’s team ducked for cover.

  “Koon, now!”

  Khai took aim, closing one eye and lining up a shot down the barrel of his pistol, when he saw the top half of a rioter’s head disintegrate in a red dust cloud. Khai took the next one down, putting a bullet hole two inches in diameter in his forehead.

  Thump… Kaboom! Puar fired again at the rear of the crowd and took down another few ranks. By that point, Dah’s team returned fire. Brix boldly stood in his window and emptied both clips into the crowd taking down several dozen rioters. It was a massacre, Khai felt sick to his stomach, and in the middle of the fight, chewed down two pills to keep himself focused.

  Khai took down three more rioters with head shots and ducked for cover as bullets chewed the wood around the broken window from where Khai was firing. After that volley, Khai popped out and took down six more—four with headshots and two with chest shots. He ducked down to reload. His reload was interrupted by ten rioters who had found a way to dodge the rain of bullets and get into the building. The sole of a boot was striking at his face.

  Khai reacted with the reflexes of an expertly-trained killer. The boot, which was destined for Khai’s head, glanced of his shoulder as he stood up. The attacker’s foot was still on Khai’s shoulder when he brought his elbow down on top of the attacker’s knee, bending it the wrong way with a sickening dull crunch and prompting a tortured cry from the assailant. He dropped to the floor, crying and clutching his dislocated knee.

  “Who’s next?” Khai asked tauntingly.

  Two guys attacked at once. The first attacker threw a right hook. Khai ducked under the wild swing, grabbed the knife from his boot and came up behind the first attacker, stabbing the knife upward into the soft tissue behind the chin of the second attacker. Blood bubbled and gushed from the wound as the attacker gurgled and choked.

  Khai then kicked the first attacker as he removed his knife from the other’s throat. The blunt force of his kick caused the guy to stumble and fall out the window to his death.

  Seven rioters were left. They hesitated. Khai took their apprehensiveness to his advantage. He flipped the knife over in his hand and threw it. The knife buried itself all the way to the hilt in the next person’s chest—all eight inches of it. He fell back, dead.

  There was clearly a leader in the room with him. A dark-skinned fellow hung back, watching Khai’s work. He shoved a fellow rioter directly at Khai, who screamed and flailed his arms in fear, knowing the end was coming. In a feeble attempt to defend himself, the screamer raked at Khai’s face. Khai easily ducked under the attack, weaving his right hand under the attacking arm of the screamer and behind his head, putting him in a half nelson. With a powerful push forward on the screamer’s neck, his shoulder popped and his hand fell uselessly to his side. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain and screaming even more.

  With five left, and the odds were definitely in Khai’s favor, three of the five ran, taking their chances with the hellfire outside. That left two; one rioter and the ringleader.

  They attacked at once; the leader with a high roundhouse kick to the face and the other with a lunge to the midsection. Khai snapped his knee up in time to catch the would-be tackler in the chin, sending him crumbling to the floor and spitting teeth. However, the kick met its mark with a flash of light and the power behind the kick sent Khai reeling.

  The leader followed up with a stabbing kick to the back of the knee, sending Khai to the floor for the first time in a long time.

  The now-cocky leader paused to gloat. Khai got to his feet, grimacing, which produced crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes.

  “Getting slow, old man,” the dark-skinned leader taunted.

  “You’re telling me,” Khai said, standing up and wiping the blood from the gash on his cheek.

  Khai stumbled into a support beam and the leader took the initiative. He moved in for the kill with a powerful front kick, it was too late for him to realize Khai’s stumbling was bait. Khai sidestepped the
kick and buried his heel into the thigh of the supporting leg. With a crack, his femur snapped and he went down.

  “Never wound what you can’t kill,” Khai growled.

  The leader still had some fight left in him. He struggled up to his good leg and swung uselessly at Khai. Khai wasn’t playing around, he grabbed the wrist of the striking hand and jerked him down to his knee and then to his belly. Khai put his knee on the back of the leader’s arm, just above the elbow and jerked back. The elbow gave instantly under Khai’s overwhelming strength and he didn’t stop until the leader’s hand touched his shoulder. He cried out in pain to stop.

  Khai wasn’t done. He grabbed the leader by the back of his shirt and picked him up, broken arm and leg flopping painfully about. Khai tossed the guy out the side window of the building and found that all was silent. Whatever rioters weren’t dead were fleeing, some leaving a blood trail as they stumbled away. Dah’s team was out in the street and he could hear Puar and Koon stomping down the metallic stairs on the emergency staircase outside the building.

  Khai leapt from one of the front windows facing the street and caught a rail halfway down. He then dropped to the street and reunited with his team. The riot police were regrouping as well.

  “What the hell are you guys doing?” one of them demanded.

  “Saving your asses!” Koon replied.

  “You killed almost all of them!” another pointed out.

  “We were ordered to use deadly force,” Khai defended his team.

  “By who?”

  “Our captain got the order directly from Minister Trall.”

  “We got our orders from him, too. And he told us not to use lethal force.”

  “Must’ve been a miscommunication,” Puar offered.

  “I guess,” the first one said. “It just makes all of us look bad, like we don’t know what we’re doing.”