Read Gabriel: Zero Point Page 7


  Chapter 6

  Gabriel padded softly over to the only door to the lab, scanning left and right for anything resembling a weapon. Nothing. The lab was bare. He flattened himself against the wall next to the door and reached out with a passive scan.

  Two bodies were in the corridor outside the lab, and both were armed. Judging by the power signature and the heavy EM leakage, the weapons were cheaply made Chinese knockoffs of M-74 pulse rifles. Neither was stealth shielded, and neither broadcasted any type of signal via neuretics or other means. They were quiet, but not invisible. And with the types of rifles they carried, Gabriel ruled out the possibility of friendlies.

  His neuretics linked into Cielo’s security system. It was secure, but his new Level Seven had no issues burning through the NAF firewall. The security system showed no breach or alert; the station was operating as normal. Then who the hell were these guys?

  His Mindseye showed the ghostly passive scan image of a body stepping close to the door and reaching out, while the other stayed a step behind, rifle at the ready. Gabriel didn’t dare go active to pin down their armament or equipment; if they had the most rudimentary of neuretics, he’d announce his presence like a lighthouse beacon on a dark night.

  The door slid open, and Gabriel watched as the blocky barrel of an M-74 copy poked into the room followed by a man in black combat gear and half helmet. The rifle barrel pointed to the man’s left, away from Gabriel. Perfect.

  The gunman stepped into the room just feet away from Gabriel, and allowed the second man to enter. The second rifle only made it inches into the room when Gabriel reached out and grabbed it from under the barrel.

  The pulse rifle was followed by the startled face of a man looking down at the weapon being pulled away from him. Before the man had a chance to react, Gabriel slammed the barrel upwards into the man’s face, then yanked down on it again, hard.

  Blood spurted from the man’s shattered nose and upper lip as he stumbled into the room. Gabriel threw the rifle to one side, and smashed the heel of his other hand into the man’s chin. The intruder’s eyes rolled up in his head and he dropped to the floor.

  In the split second the engagement had taken, the first man in the room still hadn’t fully turned to face the fight. Gabriel took full advantage of the man’s hesitancy and lunged forward. He detected a neuretics transmission coming from the gunman, and his own neuretic combat algorithms reached out to jam it. A distant part of his mind again was impressed with his new software upgrade.

  The rifle swung in his direction, and he blocked it with his right forearm. When the barrel cracked and bent around his arm, the gunman’s eyes went wide. Gabriel’s left hand chopped at the man’s throat just above the collar of his combat armor. The shattered rifle clattered to the floor as the man grabbed his neck and fell to his knees.

  Gabriel kicked the wrecked gun away and it skittered across the hard floor. He bent over and stared into the man’s wide eyes. His neuretics were still blocking the weak transmission the man continued to try to send.

  “Who are you?” Gabriel asked in a low tone. “Where’s the doctor?”

  The man gasped for air, alternately sucking in air and trying to wheeze out words.

  “Don’t…know…who…you’re…talking…about…”

  Gabriel grabbed the man’s collar and pressed his knuckles into his throat. The man’s eyes bulged.

  “Who sent you? What is your target?” Gabriel growled.

  The man grabbed at Gabriel’s wrist, trying to pull his hand away from his throat.

  “Gabriel…target…” he gasped.

  “Who…” Gabriel’s neuretics picked up an inbound transmission, sent to the gunman. He saw a bloom of red static appear in his Mindseye, and the man’s eyes rolled back in his head. His head lolled to one side and Gabriel released his collar. He was still detecting life signs; the man was unconscious. He ran a check on the transmission.

  Data wipe.

  The gunman’s neuretics had been remotely erased. How deeply, Gabriel had no idea, but he’d seen the same during the Canary Islands battle. Several of the prisoners of war they had taken unexpectedly passed out, then woke with no memory at all of the operation.

  The wipe was troublesome, as now he’d have to figure out on his own who was behind the attack, but the wipe also gave him a key piece of information. His neuretics traced the transmission to a location within Cielo itself. He now had a target.

  He turned away from the gunman’s limp body and stepped over to the second attacker, who was face down on the floor. Blood pooled around his head from a smashed nose and lip, but like the first one, he was out cold — only this one was by Gabriel’s hand. He sent a tracer worm transmission into the man’s neuretics and found the same thing: he’d been wiped remotely.

  He rubbed his right arm where the other rifle had smashed into it. His skin had been cut by the plastic and metal barrel and dripped blood, but he felt little pain. The enhanced muscles underneath his skin absorbed the blow and prevented bone damage, and apparently whatever Knowles had injected into him prevented the bulk of the pain from reaching his nervous system. Interesting. He crouched and wiped his hand off on the fallen gunman’s sleeve. The pulse rifle Gabriel used against him lay against the bulkhead wall near the doorway. He reached over and picked it up, palming the trigger pad to arm it. Shit. Neuretics code locked. He was an unarmed target on an unfamiliar space station, still recovering from a full day under sedation.

  A neuretics threat alert buzzed in his head. Another warm body was on its way down the corridor. He stood and squeezed the disabled pulse rifle in frustration, and an icon popped up in Mindseye.

  OVERRIDE COMPLETE

  The pulse rifle clicked and he felt a tingle in his hand, signaling the weapon was armed and ready to fire. A feral grin creased his face. Thanks doc, wherever you are.

  He glanced down at his sock feet, then looked across the room toward his boots. No time, he thought. And maybe quieter without them. He pressed the stock of the rifle into his shoulder, raised the barrel, and stepped to the doorway.