Blood Prize (22 page)

T
he Assembly board studied Bruno Wolf on seven separate monitors and the chairman nodded. His candidate oozed confidence, which appeared to have an immediate effect on most of the board.

The Darkman sat back in his chair and smiled with an ease both reassuring and at the same time disturbing. Wolf exhibited a ruthless intelligence and his record backed this assessment. The man got the job done.

He’s my choice, so why do I feel so anxious?

He removed a secret dossier compiled on Wolf, from a locked draw. It matched the file that the rest of the board scrutinised, apart from several omitted references; an overwhelming body count, a long list of sexual misadventures and an obsession for power.

This man has the potential to be a tyrant.

The chairman never decided anything without caution, but timing required him to be expedient. Despite his spectacular credentials, the man’s ambition remained a worry.

If he starts to become a threat, I can have him eliminated in due course.

He began to tap his fingers on a second file which also concerned him; a portfolio containing other reasons why he needed to handle this situation with care.

The first item on the list provided a growing amount of evidence that Vogel acted against them, for his own benefit.

I can’t just have him killed.

He needed to know if Vogel worked alone or in league with another. He needed to determine the identity of his competitors, before he could strike.

You won’t be a thorn in my side for long, Vogel. That I promise.

Antonio sat back in his chair and took a moment to survey the men around him. They exuded power. Each member of the group headed their own family’s vast interests. Between them, the seven board members of the Assembly owned and controlled the entire world of banking, with every country on earth sick with the debt they owed them.

He knew that if this group judged his leadership less than satisfactory, they could be unforgiving. He chose the man in the monitor for this very reason; to take back the advantage, but he needed the entire board to ratify his decision.

“Any questions, gentlemen?”

One of the Assembly brothers stood and addressed the board.

Antonio could see the advanced cancer in the grey pallor of his complexion and his deep sunken cheeks. He wondered how anyone could exist in such a paltry frame.

This living corpse will try to bring me down.

He viewed the man’s ancient sagging skin, with distaste. It hung lank and lifeless, over protruding, meatless bones.

He wears his mortality like a badge of honour and flings it in our faces.

Antonio considered his appearance incongruous to their proceedings. Even though he dressed according to protocol, his suit fell away from his wide fleshless shoulders, further accentuating his skeletal appearance.

“Mr Chairman, it seems that this Fox situation may be almost out of our control. Perhaps we need to clarify what has gone wrong, before we rush into employing this new man.”

The chairman nodded, pretending to agree. With the question of his competence before them, he took a moment to answer.

“You have all been fully advised on our current predicament. I have kept nothing from you. There seems to be little doubt that Vogel has crossed over. Why this is so, and for whom, is still unclear.”

The thin man continued to stand. He seemed unwilling to accept anything less than an admission of poor judgement from their leader.

“Your man has placed us in a very vulnerable position, Mr Chairman.”

“Gentlemen. Let us at least conclude this business before we start assessing performances. We have always taken the hard road in defence of our Mother Church, have we not? We can’t allow ourselves to …”

“Mr Chairman …”

“Gentlemen. You must understand that our business is often difficult and we must always show courage. This is a great quest …”

“Mr Chairman …”

Antonio raised his voice in rebuke, as if he addressed an insolent child. He wanted no further interruptions.

“Enough. Let me finish. We all know that we have suffered a setback, but let me emphasise a point. It is not a defeat. Battles sometimes sway to and fro, but we will win and win convincingly.”

Another aging man stood before the gathering. He needed the weight of the marble table to support his frame. As he leant forward, his large balding dome shone with perspiration.

“How can you be so sure of this? We would all like to share in your confidence, Mr Chairman.”

“Because we have the power, my friends. We can throw unlimited assets against our enemy. Like the house against a lone gambler, we keep raising the stakes until the enemy has nothing left. He becomes defenceless … Defeated.”

The chairman stopped and lifted his hand for silence. Breathless and red-faced, he needed several gulps of air before he could continue.

“Acts of terrorism are the only actions that the weak can employ against the strong. They are nothing but a thorn in a giant’s foot. Behold gentleman. On the other side of that monitor sits a Godly man, who is uniquely qualified to remove that thorn for good.”

Antonio Costa felt his body sag with relief. Winning this small battle gave him the time to put vast amounts of resources into place to find the Prize, but the unknown factors bothered him.

Vogel … Would he risk such an enterprise on his own?

If he won the Prize alone, he could name his price; he could take the chairman’s position; his position. That made him a personal enemy.

The other possibility created an equally dangerous scenario. Vogel could only be seduced by an adversary as great or greater than the Assembly.

You’ve stolen my eyes, Vogel. I’m a blind man in the middle of a battlefield.

At that moment, even surrounded by all of his power, the chairman felt vulnerable. All of his hopes now lay with The Darkman.

T
om grasped the bottom of his seat with both hands as the helicopter bucked and jerked its way towards the tree tops. He managed a sideways glance towards Noah. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he attempted to manoeuvre their craft.

Tom could see the raised and corded muscles in his friend’s forearms as he gripped the cyclic stick between his legs with strong hands. At the same time he managed to control the collective lever to his left, while maintaining the throttle and working the pedals with his feet.

“Noah … Everybody. We’re under attack.”

They heard the sound of gunfire and the metallic thuds as projectiles struck the frame of the helicopter.

Tom attempted to twist around in his seat so that he could see Isobel.

“We’re nearly up, Iz. Hang on.”

The Baza tilted and Isobel screamed. Tom’s window became the floor and he stared straight at the ground as it rose towards him.

“Oh, hell. Tom …”

He tried to call back to her, but Noah’s shout exceeded his in volume, as they rolled, straightened and rose.

“We did it. We’re away.”

It took Tom a moment to recover and make sense of Noah’s words.

The sound of enemy gunfire seemed further off and then ceased altogether. A period of heavy breathing followed, with all of the occupants staring straight ahead, oblivious to all else except the circumstances of their escape. Even the engine and propeller noise appeared to recede within the cabin.

Between exhausted breaths, Noah quashed the suppressed atmosphere with staggered bouts of laughter.

“A close one … but … we did it.”

Isobel reached forward and touched Noah on the shoulder; shattering his moment of relief with a rush of questions.

“What do we do now? Where are you taking us?”

Noah remained focused on the horizon; his bland expression and awkward, silent avoidance, answering the question for all of them; danger existed in every direction with only a slim chance of survival.

Tom’s jaw tightened in anger.

Petra, Julius, Luther, Surat, even Uta; all dead.

Why?

To win a Prize that supposedly saved men from slavery. Once won, what do brainwashed people do with their freedom? How many wars are won so that men are free to stupidly enslave themselves to the same people, over and over again?

At that moment, Tom felt like a beast on his way to the slaughter-house.

What’s the point?

He withdrew his weapon, swung around between the front two seats and aimed it at the man behind him.

“I’ve had enough, priest. Start talking.”

“Perhaps now isn’t the time for exhausting explanations, Tom.”

“Tell that to our parents … Start talking.”

“Yes, alright. It’s important that both of you know everything, but there are other questions that should take precedence.”

Isobel’s face flushed with redness the moment the clergyman spoke.

“Like how you arranged the murder of our families?”

Tom glared at the man, but even with the gun pointed at his face he remained calm.

“The most important question is where we’re going from here.”

Isobel snarled; her teeth showing through tightly drawn lips.

“We? There’s no
we
. How does a murderer think he fits into our plans?”

“Yes. This’s an unpleasant business, but if we don’t focus right now on our current predicament, we’ll all be dead.”

_____________

Tom sat back in his seat and ignored the chatter in the cockpit. He needed to consider his next move carefully, but he couldn’t make a decision based on little to no knowledge.

Forget the priest for now … I need help … I need good advice.

When it came to running from the International Special Religious Police, the Assembly of the True Faith and the Australian authorities, Tom understood his lack of experience. When it came to developing a plan to win against such impossible odds, he felt like an amateur.

“Noah. Does this flight have an actual destination?”

“No. Sorry, Tom. It doesn’t. We trekked to the hut as a risk-it-all operation with no actual backup strategy for this side of the mountain. We just didn’t have enough manpower or time to arrange anything else.”

Noah turned in his seat and nodded towards the priest.

“I think you should ask him, Tom. He wouldn’t endanger himself without some sort of backup plan.”

“Is that right, priest? You have a plan in place?”

“Yes. I have some resources at my disposal.”

Isobel raised her voice above the others.

“No, Tom. He’s a killer.”

“We have to make it out of here, Iz.”

“No. No way. He’s the enemy. How could you trust him? You know what he did to our families.”

The helicopter shuddered and jerked as Noah struggled to manoeuvre his seating position in order to face Isobel.

“Lassie, we have to survive. That’s our first priority and this man may be the key. We’ve no choice but to trust him. He’s already saved us once.”

“He’s a snake.”

The priest turned away from Isobel; his expression showing anger for the first time.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Just tell us your strategy, then we’ll decide.”

The priest stared at Tom, searching his expression for several seconds.

“I have a business jet and a flight crew waiting for me. Will that do?”

“To go where?”

“To find the Prize. You have no other choice. The moment your father started this business …”

Tom felt his face flush with anger. He tried to stand, but his seat belt pulled him back into his seat.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“The enemy will hunt you forever, Tom. No-one will survive this. Not unless we get to the Prize.”

“So why help us? Why change sides now? Surely, they’ll kill you too.”

“But I haven’t changed sides.”

Isobel punched the back of the seat several times before she spoke.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s a liar.”

Tom nodded his agreement before turning his attention away from Isobel and back to the priest.

“You haven’t changed sides … I don’t believe you.”

The priest’s smile turned into a sigh. He waited some time before continuing.

“Alright, Tom. By now you’ll have the watch, the box and the diary, or we wouldn’t be here. It should have gone a bit smoother, but we didn’t expect Vogel to break from the Assembly and go it alone.”

“How do you know this … Through the Assembly?”

“No. Not at all. The Assembly didn’t know the road to the Prize. No-one knew this information except your father, Professor Kite and myself. However, they did receive some information from Professor Kite, when …”

Isobel’s face glowered with hatred.

“Before you murdered him.”

The priest couldn’t hold Isobel’s sullen stare. He turned away and focused on the back of Tom’s seat.

“Yes, a terrible waste, but for the Assembly a godsend. Because of his information, they knew they controlled the key; meaning you, Tom. Because of this, our plans changed. You know this because you have the diary. You know what he found and what he developed.”

He knows my father’s secrets. Maybe he is telling the truth.

“So, you say my father planned this from the beginning?”

“Yes. The three of us initially. I knew everything, except the true and final location of the Prize, but you must know that by now, Tom. You have the watch.”

I knew it. The broken hand.

_____________

Eerie figures began to gather in the clearing; men with sullen and bitter expressions surrounding him.

Don’t show fear … Ignore them.

Frederick closed his eyes, sucked in some oxygen and tried to focus on his ruinous venture. He realised with absolute clarity that his career, his dreams and even his mortality became subject to the outcome of his next decision.

I have only one undeniable truth to consider: If I can’t follow Fox, I’m finished.

He opened his eyes and noticed the captain striding towards him. In the moonlight, his expression looked menacing and his weapon hung from a tightly squeezed fist.

“Vogel. Get here.”

“What’s this, captain? You’re planning a mutiny?”

“Get over here, or I’ll have great pleasure making you.”

Vogel grit his teeth. Even in this situation, he hated being ordered to do anything. Begrudgingly, he followed the captain to the far side of the clearing.

I can’t let him take control, or I’m dead.

“Because of your stupid decisions, Vogel, we’re all going to die.”

“So what do you propose, captain? You didn’t drag me over here to kill me. You could’ve done that in front of your men.”

“What do I propose? That’s beautiful, considering you’ve stuffed up this entire operation. There’s also the small fact that my men and I are marked for death on your orders.”

“You’re going to make me cry. Just get on with it. What do you want?”

“I’m going to walk back over to my men and wait. You’ve got five minutes to come up with a plan that guarantees every man’s safety, or you won’t leave this clearing.”

“What about our deal, captain?”

“You’ve got five minutes, Vogel, and it’d better be good.”

The captain made a point of checking his watch, before he marched back to his waiting men.

Vogel looked back across the clearing at the ghoulish figures standing in the moonlight. If he failed to convince them, he died. He needed to think, but his mind didn’t want to respond. He looked at his own watch.

Time’s up.

The captain approached.