Blood Prize (28 page)

T
om’s fingers grasped the seat in front of him, as the nose of the aircraft dropped towards the front wheel. He heard a strange noise, which he recognised as the front tyre ripping from the wheel frame.

“I don’t think it’s over, Iz.”

He heard a loud, cracking bang and the aircraft shuddered.

Damn … The wheel mechanism’s collapsed.

The nose squealed as it struck the airstrip and Tom flew forward, propelled against the extent of his seatbelt.

“Iz … We’ll make it. Hang on.

The aircraft’s nose ground into the tarmac and the jet bucked and swayed; the rear wheels beginning to bounce.

Well bloody done. You’re a miracle maker.

Tom marvelled at the pilot’s skill. Through the jolting confusion and blinding shower of sparks, he somehow maintained his composure and kept them in a straight line.

At last the aircraft screeched to a stop. Its nose cone a smoking, twisted wreck.

Alright, we made it … It’s time to act.

Outside of his cabin window, Tom noticed movement. Three police vehicles raced towards the wreckage; parking directly adjacent to the aircraft’s main exit.

Tom wondered at their lack of caution.

“They seem rather nonchalant, don’t you think?”

The priest’s voice sounded hoarse as he responded to Tom’s question.

“Yes. Yes. Odd behaviour given the circumstances. This can’t be the Assembly. They wouldn’t risk apprehending Tom at this stage. Not without the exact location of the Prize.”

Tom frowned.

“You’re suggesting another party’s involved other than the Assembly?”

“Yes. The Assembly won’t allow the Australians to be involved.”

“So who?”

“Someone powerful, with their own motives. Someone who could organise a local police force from the air.”

“Vogel?”

Noah broke into the conversation. Tom thought he detected excitement in his tone, despite the presence of the police.

“Now we can understand the hands off on Vogel’s helicopter and the RAAF aircraft. It’s him and he’s acting without the Assembly’s authority.”

Tom suspected as much.

“This doesn’t change our tactics. We stick to the plan.”

_____________

Father Dom forced his shoulder against the door and it gave way and opened. He stood still for a moment and allowed his eyes to adjust to the light.

He spotted the highest ranking policeman and waved for him to come forward.

“Almost everybody on board is injured. We could do with some help here.”

Good. The plan’s working. They’re already off balance.

He noticed the police looking from one to the other in confusion. Medical assistance didn’t seem to fit in with their expectations. There didn’t appear to be any ambulance or emergency crews on site.

He could see no stairs from which to descend onto the tarmac, but he soon realised that it didn’t matter. Because of the aircraft’s twisted frame, the concrete runway lay less than a metre from where he stood.

I must look the feeble and pathetic priest. They seem to think I’m harmless.

His smile broke into a chuckle.

“Excuse me, Sergeant. If you could surrender your weapons peacefully, the men behind me with the automatic weapons, won’t kill you. On the other hand, if you refuse, you’ll be shot.”

The five police officers looked from the priest to the wreckage, where two men held automatic weapons pointed in their direction. He saw each of the five uniformed bodies stiffen, as they considered their options.

“If you don’t comply, sergeant, these men will not hesitate. Please, lay down your arms.”

To the priest’s surprise, the sergeant burst into a routinely used spiel that seemed comic, given the circumstances.

“It would appear that you are in no position of arrest good fellow. Now shut up and lower your damn weapons.”

Four of the officers threw down their service handguns. In unison they raised their arms and looked over at their sergeant. Instead of releasing his service weapon, he raised and pointed it at the priest, continuing to demand their surrender.

_____________

Tom missed his cue; his thoughts about Isobel and his mother consuming him.

Great. It’s my plan and I’m not even in place to execute it.

A huge frame filled the doorway as he hurried towards the exit.

“Noah, I’m coming through.”

With a grunt, he forced his head through a gap under Noah’s arm and the strong light assaulted his vision. He tried to push past him, but his foot slipped out of the door and he almost fell.

“Damn it.”

Noise and chaos erupted around him. In his battle to stay on his feet, he squeezed the trigger and a terrifying burst of gunfire exploded out onto the tarmac.

Oh, God. What have I done?

When Tom regained his composure, he spotted the sergeant dropping his handgun and backing away towards the remainder of his men; his hands held aloft.

Then he spotted the priest giving him a thumbs up, as if the discharging of his firearm happened intentionally.

“Tom, it might be best if we rope these men together and confine them to the hangar. We can take one of their vehicles and disable the others.”

Tom slowly nodded his consent.

With the pilot and their hostages, and two of the police cars still hidden in the aircraft maintenance hangar, it seemed safe to leave.

Tom activated the satellite navigation system in their vehicle to determine directions, while Noah and the priest acquired police jackets and caps from their captives, so as not to raise suspicion on their drive.

They negotiated their way through Longreach, utilising a patchwork of seldom-used dirt roads, creating a plume of red dust behind them.

Tom sat in the back with Isobel and tried to take in the unusually sparse, out-sprawl of the town.

“It’s so flat here, Iz. Except for the dust, you could see forever.”

“Flat and stinking hot … And the flies …”

Noah turned his head searching for Tom. His smile gone.

“They’ll know soon enough that we don’t have the Prize, so the Assembly will back off and watch for the moment. They won’t attack us until we’ve led them to the site at least. The other interested parties, may not allow us that much latitude, so we’ll have to be extremely cautious. We may be attacked at any time.”

T
he cardinal noticed a flurry of movement, as Assembly staff hurried to leave the area. Several seconds later a bell rang and the chairman entered the parlour room.

The cardinal smiled.

The man might be a fat pig, but at least he has a sense of occasion.

“Cardinal Dal Santo. Thank you for coming so soon.”

“Bless you, Antonio. I’m at your disposal.”

He knew the chairman loathed him, as did the other members of the board, but that mattered little. Once committed to his plan, they couldn’t turn back, which made him irreplaceable.

They’re afraid. They need me, but I’ll soon be the most powerful ruler the world has ever known and that scares them.

He moved into an intimate closeness, before addressing the chairman.

“I’ve come at your insistence, Antonio. Is there a problem?”

“Yes. The timing’s changed. Our affairs have begun to accelerate.”

The cardinal felt like laughing as he searched the chairman’s face. The man before him hid his emotions; he hid everything unless he wished to use it as a tool, yet today, his expression betrayed a subtle hint of stress. He understood men of this nature. Rather than succeed as a team, they preferred to work against their neighbour to gain personal advantage. Men like Antonio, lived their lives in a perpetual struggle for power. The idea of a peaceful endeavour never entered their minds

“I’ve done precisely what you have asked of me, Mr Chairman. I have sown the holy seed amongst those who will support me, but I can’t openly promote our objective. You know this. Not until you bring the others over to our holy cause.”

“There are a lot of cardinals as you know …”

“Antonio. If the seedlings aren’t watered they will die, no matter how fertile the soil is.”

_____________

The chairman struggled from his seat; panting as he dragged his heavy frame to the closest window. Before him stretched a magnificent vista of terracotta roof tops and church domes, all contrasted in the brilliant blue of a typical Roman day.

He required just a moment to refocus his thinking. He needed to win this battle of wills, here and now. This disgusting little Satan presumed too much. Openly displaying his amusement of Assembly protocol amounted to imprudent rudeness.

It’s about time I created a little tension, for the benefit of future, cordial relations.

“Your Grace has done well so far and we will dutifully hold to our end of the bargain, but the timing is important. We are sure of our numbers, but these are egos that require constant petting.”

“I am well aware of this already, but …”

“I will get to the point then. Some of our brethren wondered about your ability to perform such tasks. The decision to have you as our spiritual leader, wasn’t shall we say … unanimous.”

Already he could see a dark recognition in the other man’s eyes. He held the silence for a brief moment, so his strength could fill the space between them.

“I will break a rule and be frank with you. After all, this is a dangerous business for both of us. If either of us fail in this endeavour … As chairman or pope, then I’m afraid the others will rid themselves of the problem. You see, they don’t seem to share our high opinion of each other.”

“Are you threatening me, Antonio?”

“No. I am giving you an opportunity, Your Grace. We cannot change what we have started. There can be no back-peddling. The doors behind us have long closed. Whether you like it or not, we have become bonded together by necessity.”

“If one goes, we both go.”

“Indeed.”

The chairman felt satisfied. In a matter of minutes, he managed to transform this enemy into a trustworthy accomplice.

The cardinal understood the penalty for failure; a quick departure from this world and, given their antics, heaven could not be guaranteed.

“I understand the need for our privacy, Antonio.”

The Black Cardinal used a sweeping motion with his arm to indicate the lack of humanity in the room.

“But this isn’t the only reason for you bringing me here is it? My invitation came from the whole board, so this matter of urgency is something else.”

“Yes. You are very perceptive. God often changes the plans of mere men, even those who work for Him. With or without the Prize, we must now act.”

“Something has happened?”

“Without any assistance from us, our holy father has become gravely ill. My informants suggest that he won’t see out the month.”

T
he G11’s sped along the Landsborough Matilda Highway, travelling north-west away from Longreach, towards the township of Winton.

I wish he wouldn’t do that.

Tom felt his own stress levels increasing as he suffered the priest’s anger. In the last ten minutes he watched the man’s irritation grow from impatient finger tapping on the dashboard, into fist thumping agitation. Despite their predicament his actions seemed out of character.

“This is far too dangerous, Noah. This highway leaves us dangerously exposed.”

“I agree, Nico, but what choice do we have? The side road off Maneroo Station that you keep suggesting, is no more than a goat track. We don’t have forever to achieve this.”

“Alright, I’ll grant you that. It could well be slower, but surely it would provide us some cover. We could use Tom and Isobel as spotters and get down into the creek bed, if trouble presents itself.”

“The planet’s most talented killers are following us and you’re worried about surveillance aircraft. They could obliterate us whenever they like.”

Isobel threw her head back against the seat and let out a groan.

“Look, you’re both right, but surely this’s Tom’s decision.”

Tom’s face remained impassive as he listened to their squabble. The priest’s arguments didn’t make sense and he felt a moment of concern.

“The way I see it, we have to get there first.”

Over time and without conscious acknowledgment, the two old warriors in the front seat accepted Tom’s formal leadership of the G11 group. They both remained respectfully silent as he decided their path.

“The enemy must have a rough idea where we’re heading. I think we should stay on the highway.”

Noah grunted and the priest sighed, shaking his head.

“There’s one other thing that’s been bothering me about this situation. How do we use the Prize to hold off these jackals, when no-one seems to have any idea what it is, or how to use it?”

Noah and the priest exchanged furtive glances and a heavy silence pressed down around them.

Oh God. This’s madness.

Their continued reticence confirmed his thoughts. Their entire enterprise rested on a crazy hope.

“Damn you both to hell.”

The priest turned away from him before he spoke.

“We didn’t have a choice, Tom.”

“So we’ve come here to be butchered?”

“They pulled the trap closed the moment we began. We could never go back. With every step we took forward, they erased our past. We’ve been forced here.”

The anger in Isobel’s voice silenced the others.

“Why are we being so predictable then? We need to change the rules. We don’t have to be puppets.”

Noah twisted around in his seat and sought Isobel’s eyes.

“We’ve been fighting them for a long time, Isobel. They have all of the resources. It’s their game and we don’t …”

“They don’t have this.”

Isobel held up the forgotten diary.

“Tom’s father went to a lot of trouble to hide it from the Assembly and we have no real understanding of its contents.”

Tom could see Noah’s scar. It appeared to throb with redness as he spoke.

“I propose that we do as Tom suggests. We follow the highway until we turn west on the Evesham Station Road and then off into the bush between Maneroo and Bull Creek. Isobel and Tom can decipher the diary as we go.”

Three nods confirmed their agreement.

They needed to travel another thirty minutes on the highway before they could leave the tar for the dirt road. Raptor Park lay just another fifty kilometres through the scrub.

We have to get there first or we won’t have a chance.

Tom studied a map that he spread across his knees. Further north he could see an easier route, but it created a longer journey both in length and in time. If they went that way, they might not get to the area before the enemy arrived.

The day lived up to its predicted forecast of temperatures above forty degrees Celsius. Tom could feel sweat trickling down his spine, causing his shirt to stick to his back. He found it difficult inhaling the hot dry air as he refolded the map and turned his attention to the diary.

“Have you found anything, Iz?”

“That depends. Most of the entries are scientific notations to do with testing the suits.”

She attempted to relate sections of the formal text to the men, but only got more frustrated with her inability to provide something useful that they could understand.

Noah cut off her complaints with an idea.

“Isobel, I’ve been thinking about that diary. We may have missed something. Given that we destroyed the instructions for its usage when we damaged the chip, there may be hidden elements that we’re unaware of.”

Isobel began to check the diary’s casing for any possible clue. There didn’t seem to be anything obviously different. Then Tom noticed Isobel’s smile. He knew it betrayed what her fingers felt beneath the leather and his heart began to thump in his chest.

“Iz …?”

“I need a knife, then I can show you.”

Noah reached into his jacket, removed his Swiss Army Knife and passed it over to her. She plied the blade open with a fingernail, then delicately sliced through the top section of the leather, before peering into the hidden pouch.

“You’re a smart man, Noah. There’s definitely something in here.”

She couldn’t remove it on the first attempt, so she utilised the knife to cut away more of the leather before the object came free.

Tom held his breath.

Come on … Please. We need a miracle.

Their lack of time felt like sand seeping through their fingers. They needed to come up with something before it ran out completely.

“It’s a document … A letter … Addressed to you. It’s from your father.”

Tom didn’t understand. Rather than feel excitement, his brain wanted to shut down. He couldn’t think and for a moment, struggled for breath.

Isobel held the letter with reverence.

“Should I read it for you, Tom? Out loud I mean.”

Tom began to shake and his mouth filled with a bitter tasting bile. Weren’t the people in this vehicle part of what killed his father; part of his misery? He turned and glared at each of them and felt surprised at the genuine warmth he discovered in each expression. His anger began to fade.

Tom nodded his consent and Isobel began to read.

“Dear Tom,

How inadequate this letter must seem to you. The very fact that you are reading it means that I have long departed this world and you have endured a hard lie for a life. I know that saying sorry is nowhere near enough. I can only hope that you will one day understand that this isn’t what your mother and I wanted for you.

By now, you must know either Dominico the priest, Tom Kite or Noah, for they are the only way you could have made it to this letter. You can trust these men with your life. They are true friends and are committed to our cause and your wellbeing.

You will also have understood the fraud that has been perpetrated on the Catholic Church and the world by the Assembly. No matter what happens, do not trust them, or be a part of any compromise. They have only one agenda and they will kill you unless the Prize can be used against them.

On page 38 of this diary, you will discover a list of numbers pertaining to a group of test findings. At first glance they appear to be results regarding the suit’s ability to withstand heat. On the twelfth line from the top, there are several numbers that can be used to locate the Prize. The first number is the distance travelled due east from the old memorial cairn, to the hidden entrance of the cavern. The other two numbers are distances from specific reference points. The first reference is a rocky outcrop to the west, which you will discover, has a small dinosaur carved into its face. The second is the concrete remains of an old shed, which is north-west from the desired spot. The distances and references described will lead you directly to the entrance, but you will have to dig down through a metre of loose dirt to expose it. This is where we originally drilled through the rock. There is now a round steel hatch and a ladder leading down into the cavern.

The Prize is your legacy, Tom. So, you must go in by yourself. Once you have entered the cavern, you will find that it is about the size of a country hall. It is roughly rectangular and very dark, so you will need a good torch. The cavern narrows to a tunnel at the back of the hall and the ceiling drops down to less than two metres. Here you will encounter a small, secondary cavern, which contains two sealed metal containers. One of them holds the Prize, which I returned to the site after the Assembly conducted several thorough searches of the area. I then covered the entrance and destroyed all notes pertaining to it, except this letter.

For a time I argued with the others over your destiny, Tom, for they don’t know the full truth. They were right about one thing, your life could only be saved by a sick bargain and a lie. I know this has cost you dearly my son, but no other options could be pursued. The first priority required saving your life and the second our cause. The others clearly know that you are that cause.

You are a long time into a future that I cannot know, but I have to assume that the Assembly have followed you along this pathway. For this reason, I have written another letter, which is hidden behind where this one is placed.

THIS LETTER IS FOR YOUR EYES ONLY, TOM. Under no circumstances are you to show it to anybody else and that includes my good friends.

Tom, even as I write this letter, I know with both sadness and triumph that you will succeed, for you are my son. Whether you like it or not, this heritage has become yours. I know you have been dragged into this mess, but you have no alternative now other than to rise up and be its outcome. You will understand this when the time comes.

I love you,

Dad.”

No-one spoke for a long time, which suited Tom. He need time to absorb his father’s message and his own emotions.

His mind seemed to split into two parts while he listened to Isobel read; one excited and emotional, the other cold and detached. An analytical question arose in the parietal lobe in the left hemisphere of Tom’s brain. Disconnected from his emotive self he discovered an underlying meaning in the letter, which he found perplexing and worrisome: ‘Rise up and be its outcome’ and ‘trust these men with your life’, but don’t trust them with the hidden letter. These conundrums, his father instructed, could only be understood when the time came, but what time did he have?

Why don’t I understand? Why don’t I see …? Perhaps the second letter will fill in the gaps for me.

The whole affair felt strange and disturbing. His father purposely crafted a journey for his son that existed on the sharp edge between life and death, but his father didn’t explain how he could survive the coming hours? How could he win when there seemed no hope?

Tom turned to Isobel and nodded towards the diary and she handed him the second letter.