Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno 4)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The following afternoon

Boston Fencing Club

Brighton, Massachusetts

Gabriel was frustrated. He’d received another text from Jack Mitchell.

Looked into the roommate and the senator’s son.

Nothing.

As always, Jack was the soul of brevity. Gabriel would have to call him in order to find out the full import of his text.

At the thought, Gabriel thrust his saber, warming up before facing his opponent.

He hadn’t told Julianne about the black Nissan or her uncle Jack’s latest mission. Since there was nothing to report, at least to date, his decision was vindicated. But there were other, deeper concerns that weighed on him.

Julianne had been adamant he not intervene with Cecilia. Although he could have ignored Julianne’s wishes, he wouldn’t do so. Which meant he was feeling impotent in addition to being angry. Impote

nce was not a state he was familiar with, which was why he was at his fencing club, working out his multiple frustrations.

His coach and fencing partner was Michel, a quiet, older gentleman who hailed from Montreal. Michel was a former Olympian and a formidable opponent. Gabriel admired him.

Gabriel preferred the saber to the foil or épée, because it was the fastest of the three fencing events. It rewarded aggression through the right of way and used a heavier weapon. The slashing capability of the saber was enormously satisfying.

Gabriel longed to challenge Julianne’s enemies to a duel, one by one. But he would have to be content to fence with his coach. The men put on their helmets and saluted one another.

One of the other members of the club, who was acting as referee, shouted, “En garde. Prêts? Allez!”

And the bout began.

Michel attacked immediately and Gabriel parried, continuing into a riposte. Michel quickly parried and made contact with Gabriel’s right shoulder, scoring a point.

As the fencers retreated to the en garde lines, Gabriel adjusted his helmet.

The referee shouted and the bout resumed.

Both Gabriel and Michel wore conductive uniforms that were connected via long cables to an electronic box. The cables themselves were retractable, so as not to constrict movement. When a valid part of the body was hit, the box would record a point. However, it was the referee’s job to determine the right of way; only fencers with right of way could score a point.

Gabriel knew he could have worked out his aggression by pounding the heavy bag at the gym. But fencing channeled his anger and dampened it. In order to fence, he had to force himself to remain calm and to concentrate.

Michel capitalized on any and all weaknesses and was especially gifted at circular parries and ripostes. Gabriel was younger and faster. He deflected an aggression and launched a counterattack, hitting Michel’s helmet, which was a valid target.

The fencers battled, back and forth and back and forth, in short, controlled attacks. Michel’s score began to climb and Gabriel struggled to catch up.

He was sweating beneath the uniform. Both fencers began removing their helmets to mop their faces in between points.

Finally, Michel reached fifteen points and the bout was over. Gabriel removed his helmet and shook hands with his coach, then shook hands with the acting referee.

“Your mind is elsewhere,” Michel scolded Gabriel in French.

Gabriel pressed his lips together. There was no point in denying it.

“A short break, then again.” Michel pointed to a nearby row of chairs and walked off to speak to another fencer.

Obediently, Gabriel sat and drank from his water bottle.