Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [48]
Jackson felt a cold stab of fear. Gas! He hated the very thought. Momentarily he wondered if they could conceal all the Earthlings in the ventilation duct. But that seemed like an option with little chance of helping them in the long run.
“But you think there’s something we can do about that, don’t you?” It was Chief Harris, looking carefully at the woman.
She flushed, an unusual display of emotion for the aloof Shamani. “Yes.” She extended her hand, and Jackson saw that she was clutching a number of tiny gauze pads. “These are emergency air filters. Put one in each of your nostrils and be careful to breathe only through your noses. There is a good chance that they will filter out enough of the gas to leave you conscious.”
“A good chance?” Ruiz demanded. “And if they don’t work?”
Char-Kane drew herself up, her demeanor again haughty. “This is all I can do for you. I have already risked much on your behalf.”
“Yes, and thank you,” Jackson said gratefully, flashing Ruiz a warning look.
“I must go,” she said. “The danger will begin when the ship enters orbit around Batuun. You will know when that is because when deceleration is completed, our condition will once again be weightless. I wish you luck.” She turned toward the door.
“Wait. Thanks,” Jackson said, studying her. She merely nodded and departed quickly.
Jackson wasted no time handing out the filters. His mind was churning, coming up with and discarding plans by the dozen. What could they hope to do? He wasn’t sure, but finally he had some hope. If their captors came to collect them, assuming that all the SEALS were disabled or unconscious, they could at least give the Eluoi a very nasty surprise.
He whispered terse instructions to each of the SEALS, who nodded in grim understanding. Each would do his part, Jackson knew. He suggested to Parker and Dr. Sulati that they try to stay out of the way, assigning them the two bunks farthest from the door.
The Earthlings made their preparations and lay in their bunks. Within another thirty minutes they felt the powerful engines shut down, and immediately a condition of weightlessness pervaded the ship. Each of the humans collapsed on his or her mattress, held down by the weight of a top sheet, feigning unconsciousness. Breathing slowly through his nostrils, his mouth tightly closed, Jackson couldn’t tell if there was any gas in the room. But he wasn’t about to take any chances.
The minutes ticked by interminably, but none of the Earthlings moved. Jackson had to suppress a start of surprise when the door to the room whisked open. Through narrowed eyelids, he saw four burly Eluoi enter the room, pulling themselves along the wall handles in their weightless state. Two others remained outside the door. All six of the visitors were wearing breathing filters over their mouths and noses. Only the two outside the door were armed with the machine pistol and backpack combinations they had observed earlier. The weapons were slung casually as the guards stood back from the door. Clearly, they were not expecting any resistance.
Jackson and LaRue were in the bunks closest to the door, with the two chiefs just beyond. The four orderlies approached, hoisting each of the first four SEALS by an arm. Jackson allowed himself to drift along, still apparently unconscious. Floating weightlessly, he felt himself being tugged through the door. Timing the moment precisely, he opened his eyes just as he was pulled past one of the armed escorts.
He kicked his feet hard into the solar plexus of the orderly who was moving him, driving the air from the fellow’s lungs with the powerful blow and using the momentum of the kick to drive him directly into the face of the startled guard. Before the Eluoi could raise his gun, the apparently helpless patient ripped the mask from the guard’s face and then grappled with the man, preventing him from raising his weapon until the gas had done its work.
Immensely grateful for all those hours of hand-to-hand weightless combat training in the ISS and SATSTAR1, Jackson saw immediately