Gate Gears Novels & Stories

The guard spoke, attempting to keep his eyes off my exposed chest. I acknowledged him with a swift nod as my Ferrari roared past the gate. I made my way to the second Gate and typed in the ridiculously long code father insists on having. He changes it every week. I presssed my photographic memory as the second gates swing open. I pull in to the front of our mansion, which has more security than the damn White House, and parked in front of the garage. I walk out, and throw my leather jacket over my shoulders. I make my way to the 15 feet double doors and swing both of them open roughly.

Just a stillness that made my fingers curl tightly into my palms. Then the car slowed. Not abruptly—but enough to make something twist uneasily in my chest. The driver eased the car forward into the open space in front of a gate before bringing it to a stop. I leaned closer, my gaze narrowing slightly. A gate. Not just any gate—tall, black, solid, set slightly back from the road like it had nothing to prove. The kind that didn’t need to be flashy to feel expensive. "This is the address ma'am," the driver said.

The others all pursuing different leads and assisting in ways that lended more to their individual strengths, it only seemed right that Cazer should be left to confront the most infamously devious Guardian of the Alliance’s Gateways. Approaching the imposing form of the dark marble sarcophagus. Its sigils and etchings meant to ward off any unwanted visitors to the tomb, Cazer ran his fingers along the carvings just below the lid of the coffin. Counting them out slowly as he tried to recollect the knowledge that had been imparted onto him by his predecessor, his hand eventually stopped over the face of a shrieking gorgon. The mechanism, stiff from disuse, Cazer struggled at first to turn it o

The fence covered a thousand acres of land which was mostly empty, the drive-in was just a tarred road with tall beautiful trees at the sides. Some domestic animals like monkeys could be seen roaming freely in that phase of the property. The gates at each point in the driveway were about two hundred meters away from each other and Orla became curious when they crossed the second gate but had still not gotten to the building. What puzzled her the most was that the gates opened on their own. What she didn’t know was that they were modernized emotion detector gates. They had X-ray cameras attached to detect the person in the car and only opened to recognized faces. Also, if the driver was feeli

The Physical Intervention:Phase 4: 02:40 AM. With the perimeter locks frozen shut and the communications jammed by a localized microwave pulse, you will enter through the primary service garage. You will not face an army of guards; they will be trapped in their own automated security hubs, locked behind three-inch reinforced steel blast doors that require a manual override code only you possess.

“What is it?” I didn’t answer immediately. My eyes stayed on the gate. Slowing moving from the guard on the left to the one on the right. “Reverse,” I said calmly, my eyes still staring cautiously. “What?” Jose turned, looking confused. “Don’t argue. Just reverse. Now!” I barked. The driver slammed the gear into reverse and — BOOM! A deafening blast tore through the air as the front gate erupted in fire. The shockwave hit the car like a hammer, cracking the bulletproof glass instantly. The car shoved backwards violently, the tires screeching as the driver lost control for a second.

By the time I pulled up to the heavy iron gates of the building, my palms were slick against the steering wheel, and my heart hammered against my ribs. The security guards at the perimeter fence recognized my car instantly. The main guard, a massive guy with a scarred knuckle who usually looked like he ate gravel for breakfast, gave me a quick, respectful nod. He granted me immediate entry into the private underground garage without a single question. The heavy iron gates rolled back with a low, mechanical groan that echoed off the damp concrete walls.

The gates were stone. Not decorative stone; load-bearing, defensive, the kind cut from a mountain rather than shaped for aesthetics. They opened inward without visible mechanism as the car approached, which meant someone had been watching the road long before the headlights reached them. Kaela noted that. Filed it.

“Thank you.” I climbed into the SUV quickly and buckled my seatbelt. Aaron stared straight ahead, not sparing me a glance. The car rolled forward, the tires letting out a soft squeal as he stepped on the gas. The gate opened automatically as the sensor detected his vehicle. Two security guards stood at the post, snapping to attention and nodding respectfully as Aaron’s black SUV passed. The moment we cleared the gate, he accelerated hard. The engine purred—smooth, powerful. My body pressed back into the seat, my hand instinctively gripping the seatbelt tighter.