Orion Colony Complete Series Boxed Set by J.N. Chaney (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📕

us the bad news in her usual crisp tone. “I’m checking alternate cameras now to see if I can pick up his trace. He was last spotted down the right corridor, leading to a room on your right where the oxygen purifiers are held. I’ve also routed all available Civil Authority Officers to the level and informed Elon and Arun.”

“Thank you,” said Stacy, and the elevator doors opened in front of us.

She burst into the hall, running down through an open room and to the right.

I followed behind. My heart was pumping and not just because my legs were racing but because the adrenaline was kicking in. What kind of moron with no skin in the game sticks his neck out to go on a hunt for an invisible terrorist?

Maybe you’re invested in the success of this mission more than you think, a voice said in my head.

There was no time to sit and think if I was getting soft now. We followed Iris’ direction, making a right and then following that with another right into an open room. The Oxygen Recycling level wasn’t like the garden level or the tech department at all. This area had walls off-shooting to rooms and corridors. It was like a maze on the level, and I was starting to feel like a rat.

The room in front of us looked a lot like the hologram Iris showed us. It was alive with puffs of steam and smoke coming from square machines taller than I was. There were hundreds, hell maybe even thousands of pipes running from the machine up to the ceiling and to another room or possibly another level. I couldn’t be sure.

The hissing coming from the machines and the dull humming they made ensured we would neither be able to see nor hear the enemy coming.

“Well, this is something out of a nightmare,” Stacy breathed just above a whisper and motioned to her left.

“We should split up,” I whispered back. “If we go left and he gets out of here on the right, we’re done for. I’ll take the right. You go left.”

The look in Stacy’s eye told me she wanted to disagree but saw the value in the plan. Instead of words, she just nodded. “Be careful.”

“Of course. It’s me you’re talking about.”

“I know. That’s why I’m saying it,” Stacy said, moving down around the left side of the machine.

She was quickly consumed by the smoke and steam shooting from the machines in front of us.

I lifted my fists to a position just below my jaw. I knew right now it wouldn’t do much, but it felt comfortable, and I could be ready to block a blow to my head in a split second.

I crouched low to the ground, trying to use the steam and smoke spitting out of the machines to my own advantage. If I couldn’t see him, then maybe the steam would help in masking me as well.

I was practically shaking as I moved deeper into the room. I wasn’t scared. I was a coiled spring ready to pounce in the blink of an eye. I refused to let this guy get the drop on me for the second time that day. The dull ache in my ribs was a reminder of what had happened only hours before.

I maneuvered around the machines, willing myself to see something, anything in the mist and smoke that billowed forth. I didn’t realize I wasn’t blinking until my eyes started to water and burn.

I stayed low, pressing myself to the machines that I came across one by one. The room was so large, and there were so many of them, I was beginning to think the terrorist might have slid past me. But then I saw him.

A machine to my left coughed a cloud of steam at him, revealing his silhouette for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he had his back toward me and I had the jump on him, or if he was staring at me. What I could tell by his silhouette was that it was either a man or a large woman.

They bolted forward, making the smoke swirl as they crossed the space between us. I lost the silhouette of my enemy in front of me in the second it took for him or her to pounce. I calculated the time it would have taken for the saboteur to cross the distance. As far as I knew, he or she didn’t know I could see them in the smoke.

I sprang upward, trying to guess when the Disciple was going to collide with me. We hit each another with enough force to rattle my teeth. We fell backward on the ground, rolling together. I wasn’t about to let the Disciple out of my grasp this time. If I held on to them, they couldn’t use their cloak device to its fullest potential.

I received an elbow to my face as I surrendered the top position to my enemy. My hands were busy around my assailant’s arms and torso, searching for the device that provided the cloaking shield around them. It didn’t seem as if they were wearing any type of blanket or coat.

I was ninety percent sure I was grappling with a man at this point.  A blow landed across my jaw and another on my temple. I was rewarded from the licks I was taking, as my right hand caught his left wrist. What felt like a thick watch touched my fingertips.

I ripped it off with both hands, receiving another elbow to my face for my trouble. I ignored the pain, concentrating all my effort into tearing off the device. Finally, the strap broke in my hands.

The Disciple I had seen that morning came into view. The same black-clad figure, fully equipped with a hood and crimson mask. The mask reached from the bridge of his nose down to his neck.

His eyes were the only thing I could fully see. Somehow, I felt like I knew him—like I had