Coming this November, Liberator: The People’s Guard volume 2: Genetic Arms Race! And now I’d like to present you all with a special sneak peek! A small excerpt from the book, enjoy!
Location: The Heptagon, Federal District, Republic of Usonia
It had been several months since Mongo’s rampage in Movogorsky. The attempt to obtain the formula from Grigori Chekhov had been deemed a failure. Yet despite this setback, General Flagg was more optimistic than ever about his attempt to create his own version of the Liberator. After his phone call with Mr. Torahara, Flagg had been delivered a suitcase containing “top secret” information. Inside was exactly what he had been looking for all this time—the formula necessary to create his own genetically enhanced metamorphic-human, one loyal to Usonia and with the same strength and invulnerability as the Liberator. The difference with this version was that Flagg didn’t trust anyone with the formula. So, rather than choose a candidate and genetically modify that person, Flagg simply provided a sample of his own DNA to create his own version from scratch, a clone of himself that would be programmed to be unquestioningly loyal to both Flagg and Usonia. Thanks again to both the information and equipment provided by Torahara Industries, Flagg managed to create his clone. The clone was grown in a lab like a culture of bacteria and programmed like a computer. This Usonian “Liberator” was everything Flagg had hoped for—a state-sponsored hero who shared all his beliefs because Flagg had personally overseen them to be programmed into its DNA. Now, he was ready to show off his creation to a top secret meeting of military and government officials.
Having temporarily closed off an outdoor space on the north side of the building, General Flagg was addressing an assembled crowd of top military brass and government officials, “My fellow Usonians,” he began proudly. “Our nation has faced many threats over the years, but none so great as the one that exists right now over in Ruthenia—a threat known simply as the Liberator—a genetically enhanced super soldier, created by those godless commie pinkos for the sole purpose of destroying our nation and our way of life. While some out there are content to let Ruthenia win this genetic arms race, I can assure you I am not one of them. Just as we’ve spent the past several decades trying to win the nuclear arms race, so too shall we win this genetic arms race. For today, I am proud to present to you our nation’s newest weapon in the war against tyranny. Our own state-sponsored hero. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Patriot!”
The general motioned toward a large black metallic box several feet away, large enough to hold a person. Some attendees expressed shock and disgust that the general would keep a person contained in a box; it seemed inhuman. This was another example of General Flagg’s irrational view on national security; his country’s newest hero, a tool to be kept sealed away in storage until called for, then placed back into storage until needed again. However, this shock and disgust was nothing compared to the reaction of the gathered dignitaries when two soldiers, under Flagg’s orders, opened the box to reveal the Patriot.
The Patriot looked less like an idealized version of the ultimate soldier and more like a creature from some post-apocalyptic zombie horror movie. He looked like General Flagg if the general had been killed and brought back to life by a mad scientist as some experiment gone wrong. His skin was pale and pockmarked, his eyes appeared sunken into his skull, and his massive muscular frame looked like he had overdosed on a lifetime supply of steroids. His uniform was not unlike the Liberator’s in terms of design—a blue one-piece suit with red and white vertical stripes over his abdomen under a large white star in the middle of the chest, much like the large yellow star on the Liberator’s costume. Just as the Liberator had a yellow cape, the Patriot had a red and white striped one, making him look like he was wearing the Usonian flag on his back. While the Liberator’s face was partially concealed by a red bandana/mask, the Patriot’s face was completely exposed. Given that he had a bald misshapen head and a pair of grey eyes that seemed fixed in an intense frozen gaze of pure rage, many guests silently wished the Patriot had been given something to cover his face. Some of the dignitaries had to turn and look away. The fierce gaze of their so-called “hero” gave the impression that he would attack and kill them simply for looking at him. One of those dignitaries was another high-ranking general in the Usonian armed forces, General Roberto Sanchez.
General Sanchez was only a few years younger than Flagg. He was slightly shorter and pudgier than Flagg, with a round face, brown eyes, and thick black hair with only slight signs of grey. While he may have lacked Flagg’s physical finesse, his intellect made up for it. Unlike Flagg, Sanchez wasn’t a hard-line conservative; he was actually more liberal. While he was still a patriot and ardent supporter of the military, Sanchez didn’t see conspiracies all around him, nor did he believe that the military should actively go out looking for wars to fight. He was sane and rational enough to know when to pick up a weapon and when to put one down. He was the type of man who preferred to use words and diplomacy to solve problems while, at the same time, not afraid to use force when necessary. Unlike Flagg, General Sanchez didn’t look at the Patriot and see a soldier; all he saw was Frankenstein’s monster dressed like a character out of the comic books he used to read as a child. He turned to General Flagg, “This… thing is your idea of our state-sponsored hero?”
“Don’t let his appearance fool you, general,” Flagg responded indignantly, “I assure you he’s as deadly as the Liberator.”
“Yes, I’m sure he is,” General Sanchez replied. “I was more concerned about his ability to follow orders.”
“I’ve created the Patriot to be the perfect soldier,” Flagg explained. “One who is unquestioningly loyal to our country and won’t hesitate to follow orders.”
Sanchez looked the Patriot over closely, “He looks kinda like you, general.”
“Of course, he looks like me,” Flagg said, slightly insulted. “I provided the DNA sample necessary to clone him.”
“Clone him?” Sanchez replied with genuine surprise, “You’re telling me you’ve been secretly cloning yourself? Why wasn’t I notified?”
“National security,” Flagg replied. Even among his fellow officers, Flagg hesitated to reveal too much information to them. As far as he was concerned, no one, not even the president of Usonia, especially those who weren’t hard-line conservatives, could be trusted. “Observe,” Flagg addressed the rest of the crowd. He signalled a small group of soldiers, who drew their guns and began firing on the Patriot. Just as Flagg had hoped, the bullets simply bounced off the Patriot. The Patriot turned and looked at the soldiers shooting at him but took no action.
“Fellow soldiers. Patriotic citizens,” the Patriot spoke in a firm voice that gave no hint of emotion, “Accidental friendly fire, do not engage,” the Patriot stated in an almost robotic tone.
Flagg nodded to the soldiers, who holstered their side arms. Turning to another group of soldiers sitting at a nearby table, Flagg waved his hand, signalling them to begin the next phase of the demonstration. Using small remote control devices, the soldiers sent a small group of robotic drones up in the air, hovering around the Patriot. The drones fired several grenades and small rockets at the Patriot. The weapons exploded upon contact with the Patriot, but he remained unharmed and unfazed. He stood there completely motionless, like a statue.
“Patriot,” Flagg called out, “destroy those drones.”
“Understood,” the Patriot replied before turning to attack. Leaping up several feet in the air, higher than any average person could, the Patriot grabbed each of the drones mid-air and crushed them in his hands. Even the spinning blades of the drones’ helicopters shattered upon impact with his skin. The Patriot turned these high-powered yet compact military weapons into debris as easily as if they were paper origami. The various dignitaries, even General Sanchez, had to admit they were impressed by what they just witnessed.
Just then, a young officer ran up to one of the captains. He delivered an emergency message to him. After reading it, the captain rushed over to General Sanchez, “Excuse me, sir. This message just came in,” he handed the note to the general.
General Sanchez took the note and read it, “A civilian aircraft flying nearby has suffered some sort of malfunction,” he warned the others. “It has lost control and looks like it’s going to crash right here.” The rest of the brass looked up and noticed a commercial jet in the distance with thick black smoke appeared to be coming from it. It was obvious that it was about to crash right into their headquarters. Their new super soldier, their counterpart to the Liberator, noticed it too. Without waiting for orders, he flew up toward the plane, flew directly underneath it, held it up, and safely guided it to a landing near their location.
General Flagg turned to address the others, “See? I told you our hero would do a better job than the Liberator. You think that commie pinko would have saved innocent lives? The state probably would have just ordered him to destroy the plane because it posed a threat to national security.” However, the others weren’t listening to the general. Instead, they raced over to the plane to assist in evacuating the passengers. General Sanchez ordered his lieutenant to bring medics just in case. With the plane’s evacuation slides deployed at all the exits, the passengers began disembarking. They were all civilians, some travelling on business, others on vacation. They were of various ages, genders, and ethnicities. Some were citizens of Usonia; some were from other nations visiting the country as tourists. Unfortunately, Flagg’s new super soldier didn’t seem to care. He stood there, taking note of the various passengers as they disembarked. They looked uneasy being surrounded by soldiers, especially by the grotesque appearance of Flagg’s super soldier. The other soldiers were busy aiding the evacuees and reassuring them that they weren’t under arrest for breaching national security. Little did the other soldiers know that Flagg’s abomination had other plans. Noticing the skin colour and some of the passengers’ fashion choices, the Patriot zeroed in on some passengers who didn’t, at least on the surface, look to be natives of Usonia.
“Potential terrorist threat,” the Patriot said in a cold, almost robotic tone. “Eliminate threat. Defend the homeland.” Before anyone realized what was happening, the Patriot raced toward these passengers, grabbed two of them by their throats, and squeezed until their necks snapped. The other passengers panicked and proceeded to flee in terror. Even the soldiers attempting to assist in the evacuation were in shock.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, SOLDIER?” Sanchez barked, “LET THEM GO NOW!”
The Patriot ignored his orders and continued targeting passengers who didn’t look like light-skinned Usonian civilians. Seeing one Caucasian man wearing a hat with the Usonian flag on it, the Patriot simply said, “Patriotic citizen, do not engage.” The Patriot turned his attention to two other passengers, who, by their appearance, seemed to be from Aryavarta. Whether they were citizens of this country simply visiting Usonia or they had immigrated to Usonia and were now living here made no difference to the Patriot. They didn’t look like General Flagg, so in the Patriot’s mind, that made them potential terrorist threats. “Eliminate threat. Defend the homeland.” The Patriot grabbed them both and proceeded to snap their necks like twigs.
“LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Sanchez barked. “STAND DOWN, SOLDIER! THAT’S AN ORDER! STAND DOWN!” Unfortunately, the Patriot continued ignoring his direct orders and continued attacking non-existing threats to national security. Several of the soldiers rushed the Patriot. Tackling him, they tried to force him to release his victims. Unfortunately, the Patriot possessed the same strength as the Liberator. Thus, it was like trying to pry open a vice with one’s bare hands. A few soldiers even tried to pound the Patriot in the back of his head with their fists. It was like trying to bash an anvil with one’s fists.
General Sanchez turned to Flagg, “Order that thing to stand down at once!”
“The soldier is only doing what he was programmed to do,” Flagg argued. “Defend the homeland from potential threats!”
“The only threat here is your soldier!” Sanchez shouted.
“We don’t know who these people are,” Flagg shouted, pointing to the various passengers his super soldier was attacking. “For all we know, they could be enemy spies or terrorists! Hell, they may have caused the plane to malfunction! Their goal may have been to crash it into our offices! Eliminate our country’s top military brass, leaving us defenceless and open for attack!” In Flagg’s twisted view of the world, this made perfect sense. And he made sure to imprint these irrational beliefs onto his new super soldier.
General Sanchez gave Flagg a cold hard glare, “We don’t go attacking innocent civilians because they might possibly be potential threats to the state!”
“You FOOL!” Flagg shouted. “If they’re innocent, my soldier wouldn’t be attacking them!” This was how Flagg’s insane logic worked. Anyone who didn’t look or think like him must be a threat to his country; thus, a pre-emptive strike was completely justifiable. The ends justified the means.
Seeing as this was going nowhere, General Sanchez was left with no option. He drew his gun and aimed it directly at the Patriot. While he was hesitant to start firing it in front of the panicking civilians, not to mention that it wouldn’t harm the Patriot in any way, he was desperate to do anything to try and stop it. “Out of the way!” he ordered the other officers, and they dove for cover as Sanchez began firing on the Patriot. At least he didn’t have to worry about hitting the Patriot’s victims because, tragically, they were already dead. The Patriot dropped the corpses at his feet. Taking a cue from the general, the other soldiers drew their guns and began firing on the Patriot as well. Like before, the bullets simply bounced off the Patriot. Some soldiers stood there frozen in fear, wondering if the Patriot would turn his ire on them next.
“Accidental friendly fire,” the Patriot simply said. “Do not engage.” He turned and continued going after other civilians he deemed potential threats, the civilians the other soldiers were desperately trying to get to safety. While the Patriot had been attacking innocent people and some of the soldiers were trying to stop it, most of the other civilians were whisked away to safety under the protection of other soldiers. Not all of them made it.
….To find out what happens keep your eyes out for Liberator: The People’s Guard Vol. 2 Genetic Arms Race. Coming soon to a bookstore and online retailer near you!
