Blood Prize (33 page)

N
oah and the priest lay stretched out, face-first on the ground, covered by handfuls of tossed red dirt for camouflage.

Noah felt taut with stress. His finger quivered; trembling, as it rested with only the slightest feathery pressure on the trigger. He didn’t know how long he could hold on without firing, when only five hundred metres away, out on the bare plain, two groups of enemies threatened the lives of their comrades.

“We’ve got to do something, Nico. If we allow this to go any further …”

“No, wait … Don’t shoot. They’re too tightly grouped. We don’t want to hit Tom, or Isobel.”

“Shh … Enemy … Lay still.”

Only metres away he could hear the crunch of boots on gravel.

Damn it to hell.

Noah felt his stomach heave with fear as the men approached them. With each step their precarious advantage slipped away.

Gently, he nudged the priest with his elbow and whispered.

“Do you hear that, Nico? Helicopters … They’re approaching us from different directions.”

“Yes. I can see one over in the Spring Creek direction, near where we entered the area, but he’s holding back; staying at the edge of the plain.”

“I count five and not all of them are staying put. Look. One’s heading for the cavern.”

As gunfire erupted out on the field, Noah twisted and stretched his neck to take in the view. He saw bodies falling near the entrance to the cavern, then a new series of gunfire began along the creek beds to the north of their position.

“Nico. Keep down. They’re coming.”

As the enemy behind them ran forward to join the battle, the two dirt-covered men regained their freedom to act.

Noah raised his weapon to fire, but stopped when a hand grasped his wrist.

“Look, old friend … Look at the entrance.”

Noah tried to focus his vision through his high-definition telescopic viewfinder. Through clouds of billowing dust he caught a glimpse of Isobel clinging to a wounded man.

“Tom.”

His protégé knelt in a puddle of dark blood, his head and shoulders stooped, as he clutched at a green stain around his mutilated stomach. He looked about to fall; only Isobel’s frantic efforts held him upright.

_____________

The swirling of the helicopter’s rotors seemed to suck the oxygen right out of Tom’s mouth.

They’re firing at us. I’ve got to get Isobel down that hole.

He grabbed for her, but in doing so, Uta’s weapon caught in the crook of his elbow and the hot barrel seared his skin.

“Get out of my way, Fox.”

She swore and reefed it out, spinning Tom around, and they collided as she tried to push past him. A cold object bounced off his shoulder and without thinking, he caught it and grasped it against his stomach.

Oh, God.

Before he could move, a new pain assaulted his mind. He cried out, as burning hot metal ripped into his stomach and exploded his insides to mush.

Tom grabbed at his belly and fell to his knees, as the madness around him continued to intensify. He could see Uta running with the red-headed killer he recognised from the cul-de-sac in England, and he spotted Vogel lying flat on the ground, yelling something to his men.

He also saw Vogel’s captain suffering in his attempts to return fire. Bullets bombarded the ground all around him. The man raised himself up on one knee and began to flap his arms about. Tom saw blood pouring from his mouth, as he bucked in jerky spasms. Then the dust swallowed him and everybody else.

It’s over … I’ve lost.

_____________

Uta dived to the ground, rolling and firing before the others. Like any exceptional soldier, she knew that thinking became the ultimate distraction in any critical moment. She defeated her enemies because they wasted time to reason. Action meant life, reaction … death.

Her first volley killed one of Vogel’s men, but she avoided firing wide groupings of bullets at the man himself because of his proximity to Réz.

I have to give up that canister to the Assembly. I can’t get back to get it.

She tried to discern her enemy’s movements, but the dust obscured everything.

What’s this fool of a pilot doing?

It did have some benefits. The storm of dirt covered her retreat, gifting her the opportunity to escape. In a blur of movement, she jumped to her feet, grabbed Réz and ran low across the open plain towards Spring Creek and their waiting motorcycles.

Once clear of the dust, she could see that Vogel and his remaining forces lay pinned down out in the open and that only fifty metres south of the bikes, Vogel’s one remaining scout, fired west up the ridge at Wolf’s men.

We’ve got away with it … We’re out.

They lifted their pace, running hard towards a clump of eucalypt trees that lined the dry river bed.

No … They’ve seen us.

With their sanctuary in sight, a group of soldiers from the Sancho Creek area began shooting in their direction and a projectile zinged close to Uta’s face.

“Get down, Réz.”

She looked for any possible cover, as a deadly stream of bullets began filling the air.

Damn it.

Together they dived to the ground and slid into a shallow depression, as lead and copper slugs smacked into the earth all around them.

For several precious moments, the last of Vogel’s scouts opened fire on the group that kept them pinned down. Then the barrage aimed at them, ceased. Uta didn’t wait. She grabbed Réz and tried to crawl forward, but the weight of her sister pulled her back.

“Réz, get up.”

Réz’s hands remained tied behind her back and with each thrust of her legs, Uta dragged her sister’s face into the earth.

She smiled to herself as she grunted with the effort it took to haul her forward.

I should keep this up. A few more minutes and we’ll share the same scars.

“Réz. Stop struggling and open your mouth.”

Uta rolled her over onto her back and spat liquid down her throat.

“Enjoy.”

Despite being under fire, Uta thought to retain the tiniest amount of green liquid, which she held in the pockets of her cheeks. Even this miniscule amount caused Réz to gag, as the freezing cold liquid hit her throat.

She stared up at Uta in disbelief.

“You did it?”

“Just for you my love.”

Uta sprang back into action. She cut the bonds around Réz’s wrists and they both rushed towards the relative safety of the creek bed. Just before they jumped over the side, Uta took one last look at the carnage behind them.

That pilot’s a first-class tool.

She watched the helicopter move off towards the south-east, creating columns of dust as it went. Between the swirling clouds, she managed to get a glimpse of the field. She saw bodies scattered everywhere, but she couldn’t determine whether Vogel lay with his men.

Uta roared with delight, as she plunged over the bank to join her half-sister. Even knowing the risk of swallowing the Prize, she felt elated.

For good or bad, it’s inside of us now. Either it kills us, or we’re invincible
.

P
ain exploded through Tom’s body and he heard himself cry out. At that moment, despite his blurred vision, he caught sight of Isobel and realised what he must do.

“Izzi … No. Stop.”

He saw her attempt to rise up into the field of slaughter.

I can’t let her die. I have to get her out of here.

His mind felt groggy and he couldn’t think.

Where … Where should I take her?

Then he remembered that Noah and the priest hid up on the ridge. He felt a surge of joy, but when he focused on the distance they needed to cover, his elation vanished.

I’ve got no strength left. I’ll never make it.

He couldn’t even be sure if he could get to his feet.

“Izzi … Help.”

He looked over at her. She seemed lethargic with shock; her eyes unfocused and vacant.

“I need you. Quick. Help me up.”

She responded to the tone of urgency in his voice, helping him struggle to his feet, as random groupings of projectiles pierced the dust cloud and thumped into the ground around them. He looked up through the swirling brown and red vortex and realised the helicopter hovered directly overhead.

He yelled so Isobel could hear him.

“Iz. Where are you?”

“On my knees behind you. Stopping you from falling.”

“Please. Help me up. We have to get out of here and the dust from this helicopter is our best chance.”

She tried to lift him, but a clump of flying debris struck her in the face. She squealed, let him loose and covered her eyes with her hands.

The sound of her distress brought him further out of his stupor; she needed him. He didn’t know how he achieved it, but he stood and lifted her into an unsteady embrace.

Then he noticed a dark shape amongst the churning dust. He brought his hand up as a shield and tried to look between his fingers.

The man’s face twisted into a hateful expression.

“Vogel …”

The wind from the helicopter’s rotating blades pushed the flying dirt aside, just enough to see him raising his weapon and aiming.

“Vogel … No.”

The helicopter spun around in an arc and the dust returned. Just as the dense cloud enveloped him, he saw a flash from close by and felt a violent jolt, as something smacked hard into his body. As the sound of the report registered in his mind, the pain arrived as an explosion, then in waves that made him cry out.

A sudden understanding consumed him.

The bastard’s shot me.

Vogel’s bullet ripped through the joint of his left shoulder shattering bone and cartilage as it went. Once this understanding hit home, Tom couldn’t believe that he remained on his feet.

I bounced off someone … Isobel?

He turned to look for her and pain assaulted his senses. He found her staggering and out of balance; trying to stop herself from falling. She grabbed at him and dragged him towards her.

“Iz. Hold on.”

He reached out, but she vanished from his grasp, as if the vast dirt plains of Queensland opened up and swallowed her. Then he felt her grasp his hips as she fell into the hole.

Tom attempted to correct the weight imbalance by throwing his right leg back, which only dislodged her grip.

“Tom. I can’t hang on.”

She slid all the way down his leg and in one last desperate effort, closed her fingers around his ankle.

He staggered with the weight of her momentum shift and his feet slid forward and gave way. He tried to grab at the entrance as he fell, but as his elbow made contact with the rim of the metal entrance, pain ripped down his arm and he slid off; disappearing into the darkness of the void.

_____________

Wolf ground his teeth in anger. The battle for Raptor Park may have been over, with Vogel’s captain and most of his small force of men dead, but he didn’t have any knowledge regarding the whereabouts of any of the other participants.

He struggled to control his temper.

How dare they interfere with my operation.

He gave strict orders to his flight crew, but an unauthorised Assembly helicopter did not obey. They entered the plain and shot anything that moved and their dust obscured the outcome of the battle, allowing the Prize and its bearer to disappear.

I know their mind. These jackals plan to collect the Prize before it gets to me.

His shoulders and neck stiffened as a thought occurred to him.

It may have been their intention all along, to include me in their clean-up operation. Dead, I’m no threat to them.

As he watched, a slight breeze drifted in and the spiralled column of dust began to move away to the east. Wolf couldn’t see any movement out on the plain. Bodies lay where they fell.

The dead are all in uniform; no Vogel, no crazy women and no Fox. Where the hell are they?

It didn’t seem safe to move his men onto the plain, but he needed to act.

He strode with confidence into the glare, despite the unwanted presence of this new Assembly intrusion; his soldiers forming a queue behind him to be utilised later as an inner perimeter around the site.

My men will be loyal, even if the Assembly hierarchy mean to betray me.

He claimed this victory and with it the spoils. The Prize belonged to him; its possession his only insurance against termination.

What new devilry is this?

Bruno Wolf could focus in any situation and in any given environment. Distraction meant a short career and usually death, but the sudden piercing screech from behind, brought him to a confused halt. At the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw the flickering light and his skin began to prickle.

No … I’m so close.

He stood only metres from the greatest prize he could possibly imagine, yet in the midst of his glory, the last of the dreaded Angels appeared and he could feel his private victory slipping away.

_____________

Tom sat up, but it cost him; even the slightest movement brought excruciating pain. As his mind started to clear, he thought of Isobel. He looked into the darkness, but he couldn’t see her.

“Iz … Isobel. Where are you?”

A beautiful face appeared before him. She moved so close to him that her nose brushed his cheek.

“Iz?”

The apparition began to change. With each movement of the torch, her face became angry and distorted; each expression appearing to him as a nightmarish projection.

“Tom … Tom. Wake up.”

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

“Iz, stop. You’re hurting me.”

She let go and pulled away.

“No, don’t let go.”

Tom could feel himself starting to slump, but she raced back and caught him, before he fell.

“Oh, Tom.”

“It’s alright, Iz.”

Tom’s brain throbbed in his skull, yet despite the pain, his mind began functioning more effectively than ever. Something tangible formed from the inflow of confused information and he felt a foul presence above, in the outside world.

I’ve got to move. He’s here.

He tried to twist around in Isobel’s arms, but fell back and almost fainted with pain. He felt a shower of dirt spill in on them from the entrance above and with a sudden boost of adrenalin, his system responded.

“Iz, quick. I need your help. He’s coming in. I need you to drag me away from these stairs.”