Read Online Gathering of the Titans: The Tol Chronicles Book 2 by Robert G. Ferrell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert G. Ferrell
Ads: Link
the outside in an emergency with their access cards, but protocol was that they announced themselves this way first if circumstances allowed.
After ten seconds when the automatic confirmation screen had not activated, she walked over the panel beneath it and turned on the camera outside manually. It was blank: either the camera itself was dead, or someone had intentionally blocked it. She wiggled it back and forth; the blurred image did not respond relative to the movement, meaning that it was a static piece of fabric or parchment taped over the lens.
She hurried back over to her desk and hit the panic button hidden underneath. That would put the Palace on lockdown and mobilize a whole lot of RPC. She waited for the alarm status on the screen to turn red. Nothing happened; somehow it had been sabotaged. Boogla was on the verge of panic herself, which in her case was good: that’s where she thought the most clearly. With every nerve fiber active and her adrenalin at peak levels, the world seemed to slow down for her, such that she saw and could react to every action appropriately.
She knew something was going down outside: something dangerous. The RPC had everything in the Palace wired with sensors and under surveillance at all times. If this threat was real and not just some colossal systems failure, she might not have anyone to rely on but herself. She stood against one wall and waited.
Suddenly there was a buzzing noise at the door and sparks began to fly from the space inside the door frame. That convinced her once and for all that this was an active threat. She walked over to a painting on the wall and pulled it down and over with a strong jerk. A nearby bookcase slid to the right and she slipped into the narrow hallway it revealed, securing the escape entrance behind her. She quickly followed the tunnel to a ladder that led down. At the bottom there was another tunnel with several branches. She was heading for RPC Central Security Station, where there were at least a dozen agents on duty at any given time.
All RPC agents were heavily armed, as well as experts in one or more martial arts disciplines. She had surprised them once at an inspection by revealing her own third degree black belt in correcting the technique of a particular takedown being taught. Much to Aspet’s initial concern, sliding smoothly into amusement, she then went on to spar and easily hold her own with both of the instructors. The Royal Consort was not without her own defensive resources.
She was running almost full out now, every sense straining for information. She heard a faint sliding noise that brought her up short. She stopped just before a tee intersection and waited in a crouch. After two seconds a hobgoblin clad all in black shot around the corner and leapt at her with some sort of weapon. She met him with a strong, braced kick to the sternum that knocked the wind out of him audibly. He staggered back and she followed through with a hand thrust to the neck that fractured his trachea. As he gurgled with hand over throat she elbowed his face and when he fell she slammed her foot on his neck, fracturing it fatally.
She left the hob dying in the hallway and kept running. There was now no doubt that the RPC security apparatus had been compromised deeply. She couldn’t rely on anyone for assistance: she would have to take care of this problem herself. A few meters further on another black-clad goon intercepted her. She side-stepped his attack and put her knee in his solar plexus exceptionally hard. He doubled over and she grabbed him in a headlock and then, bracing herself off one wall, leapt up into the air and used her own body’s mass in addition to a well-timed twist to break his neck. No time for being subtle or elegant here.
She dispatched a total of four of them along the way: three with cervical fractures and one with massive cerebral hemorrhage when she took away a metal pry bar he was carrying and used it on him. Finally she
After ten seconds when the automatic confirmation screen had not activated, she walked over the panel beneath it and turned on the camera outside manually. It was blank: either the camera itself was dead, or someone had intentionally blocked it. She wiggled it back and forth; the blurred image did not respond relative to the movement, meaning that it was a static piece of fabric or parchment taped over the lens.
She hurried back over to her desk and hit the panic button hidden underneath. That would put the Palace on lockdown and mobilize a whole lot of RPC. She waited for the alarm status on the screen to turn red. Nothing happened; somehow it had been sabotaged. Boogla was on the verge of panic herself, which in her case was good: that’s where she thought the most clearly. With every nerve fiber active and her adrenalin at peak levels, the world seemed to slow down for her, such that she saw and could react to every action appropriately.
She knew something was going down outside: something dangerous. The RPC had everything in the Palace wired with sensors and under surveillance at all times. If this threat was real and not just some colossal systems failure, she might not have anyone to rely on but herself. She stood against one wall and waited.
Suddenly there was a buzzing noise at the door and sparks began to fly from the space inside the door frame. That convinced her once and for all that this was an active threat. She walked over to a painting on the wall and pulled it down and over with a strong jerk. A nearby bookcase slid to the right and she slipped into the narrow hallway it revealed, securing the escape entrance behind her. She quickly followed the tunnel to a ladder that led down. At the bottom there was another tunnel with several branches. She was heading for RPC Central Security Station, where there were at least a dozen agents on duty at any given time.
All RPC agents were heavily armed, as well as experts in one or more martial arts disciplines. She had surprised them once at an inspection by revealing her own third degree black belt in correcting the technique of a particular takedown being taught. Much to Aspet’s initial concern, sliding smoothly into amusement, she then went on to spar and easily hold her own with both of the instructors. The Royal Consort was not without her own defensive resources.
She was running almost full out now, every sense straining for information. She heard a faint sliding noise that brought her up short. She stopped just before a tee intersection and waited in a crouch. After two seconds a hobgoblin clad all in black shot around the corner and leapt at her with some sort of weapon. She met him with a strong, braced kick to the sternum that knocked the wind out of him audibly. He staggered back and she followed through with a hand thrust to the neck that fractured his trachea. As he gurgled with hand over throat she elbowed his face and when he fell she slammed her foot on his neck, fracturing it fatally.
She left the hob dying in the hallway and kept running. There was now no doubt that the RPC security apparatus had been compromised deeply. She couldn’t rely on anyone for assistance: she would have to take care of this problem herself. A few meters further on another black-clad goon intercepted her. She side-stepped his attack and put her knee in his solar plexus exceptionally hard. He doubled over and she grabbed him in a headlock and then, bracing herself off one wall, leapt up into the air and used her own body’s mass in addition to a well-timed twist to break his neck. No time for being subtle or elegant here.
She dispatched a total of four of them along the way: three with cervical fractures and one with massive cerebral hemorrhage when she took away a metal pry bar he was carrying and used it on him. Finally she
Similar Books
