Chapter 4 - Under the Iron Sky
The laser dot hovered steadily over Gabriel’s heart. He didn't flinch. Instead, he fired two suppressed shots around the mahogany doorframe with mechanical precision. A muffled grunt sounded from the hallway, followed by the heavy clatter of tactical gear hitting the tile.
""Suppressing fire!"" a harsh voice shouted in the gloom. Gunfire erupted instantly, tearing through the plaster and shredding the modern artwork hanging along the hallway. Splinters of drywall and wood rained down on Elena as she crouched low behind a marble pillar, covering her ears against the deafening crack of close-quarters combat.
Gabriel returned fire, his movements controlled, his upper body compensating with formidable strength for his immobile lower half. But there were too many. Another figure advanced through the dust, firing a burst that shattered the glass cabinets above Gabriel's head. Shards rained down, slicing a red furrow across Gabriel’s cheek.
""Elena! The panel beside the vase!"" Gabriel shouted over the din, ducking as a volley of rounds chewed through the armrest of his wheelchair. ""Smash it!""
Elena looked through the haze of gun smoke. Ten feet away, next to a decorative porcelain urn, a small glass casing glowed with faint emergency power. Crawling on her hands and knees across a floor littered with broken glass, she lunged toward the wall. Bullets chipped the floor inches from her boots. Ignoring the sting of ceramic shards slicing into her palms, she slammed her closed fist against the protective case.
The glass gave way. Elena grabbed the red toggle switch and pulled it downward with all her weight.
A deafening groan of hydraulic steel shuddered through the floorboards. Heavy reinforced blast shutters plummeted from the ceiling down the hallway, slicing the corridor in half and severing the attackers' line of fire with a colossal crash that shook the floor.
The gunfire ceased abruptly, replaced by the ringing silence in Elena’s ears.
She slumped against the wall, chest heaving, blood dripping from her knuckles. Across the wrecked room, Gabriel sat surrounded by spent casings and shattered glass, the weapon still resting in his lap, smoke curling from its barrel.
He stared at her through the dust, an unreadable shadow passing over his eyes. ""You didn't run,"" he noted quietly.
""I didn't have anywhere to go,"" she breathed, struggling to steady her shaking hands.
Gabriel wheeled closer, his tires crunching over the debris. He stopped just inches away and looked down at her bleeding hand. He reached into his coat, not for a weapon, but for a silk handkerchief, extending it to her.
""They aren't private mercenaries,"" Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. ""That was a government strike team. Which means the contract wasn't taken out by my competitors.""
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Elena met his gaze, her blood running colder than it had under the gunfire. ""Then who wants you dead?""
""My father,"" Gabriel answered.
