Blood Prize (23 page)

T
om snuck a look over his shoulder at their makeshift pilot. Despite the smooth ride, Noah concentrated on the Baza’s controls as if he expected an imminent disaster.

“Where are we heading, Noah?”

“For the moment, north-west away from the mountains.”

There didn’t seem to be any purpose in his choice of location, other than a panicked escape from Vogel, but despite his worry over their lack of direction, Tom’s thoughts kept returning to the watch.

Before I say anything about this, I have to be sure.

He felt famished as he looked down at his old timepiece. He considered the missing hand the answer to their mystery, but couldn’t concentrate.

“Does anyone have anything to eat, I’m starving?”

He watched the priest’s hand disappear into an inner coat pocket and when it reappeared, he held up a chocolate bar, which he handed to Tom.

“Hey, thanks.”

As he stretched forward to accept it, Isobel slapped his hand away from the priest’s. With an anguished moan, she sat back in her seat; her face white and drawn and her darting eyes wide-open with anger.

“Don’t thank him, Tom. I don’t know how you could accept anything from that man. You’re unbelievable.”

Even in the cabin’s low light, he could see her despondency. He could feel her need to strike out at someone for the loss of her family and he didn’t mind that she chose him.

“I don’t know what to think, Iz. He might be the enemy, but I don’t want to make a decision on this. Not until I’m sure one way or the other.”

“Tom. He killed our parents. How could you side with him?”

“Iz …”

“No. Just leave me alone. You’re as bad as he is.”

Tom felt flabbergasted. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t have come up with anything coherent to say.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Their conversation trailed off to silence. No-one spoke and no-one connected. Tom felt the sensation of time slowing down, creating a vacuum that accentuated all feeling, particularly the negative kind.

I hate this … When she’s like this she makes me feel …

He struggled to find the word, then it came.

Exasperated … She’s excruciating.

Despite the strained tension in the cockpit and his annoyance, a thought occurred to him.

How does anyone’s perception alter the experience of time?

His thought brought on another; an epiphany.

Altered time … Time standing still … The watch … The hand … The direction.

“That’s it. I’ve got it. I’m sure.”

He felt annoyed when Isobel ignored him, but Noah stirred from his thoughts.

“You’ve got what, Tom?”

“I understand. It’s the watch. Quick, I need pen and paper. This is it. I’m sure of it.”

Sometimes trying to remember even the obvious, created difficulties for him, but today, the numbers they found from the inside of the watch, re-entered his consciousness on demand. He wrote them down on his piece of paper and sat back, admiring his creation.

My father left this information for me. Thank God I didn’t let him down.

He smiled and looked into each face before he spoke.

“I’ve discovered the missing set of numbers from the watch.”

Noah’s eyes widened in an expression of disbelief.

“How, Tom? What did we miss?”

“I found the answer on the outside of the watch.”

He held out his arm so they could all see the old timepiece.

“Look at where the one remaining hand points. It’s fixed on the number twenty-two.”

Again he felt annoyance. No-one moved, or uttered a sound.

“Look, I’ll prove it to you. Noah, I need a map of Australia with longitude and latitude coordinates.”

“Try the pilot’s case, Tom. It’s the black leather bag between our seats.”

Tom began to fumble with the bag’s catch, but he couldn’t open it.

The priest reached forward to assist.

“Allow me. I know how to read these things.”

The clergyman sorted through a variety of maps. He raised one from the bag and spread it out over his knees.

“Tom. The full set of numbers please.”

“They’re 143, 12, the 22 we just found and 49.”

To Tom’s great dismay, he noticed the priest’s enthusiastic expression fall away; his head slowly shaking from side to side.

“Latitude 22. 49 and Longitude 143. 12. No … These coordinates don’t work, Tom. They pinpoint a spot in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, somewhere north of Micronesia. I’ve tried them several times now. I’m sorry.”

Tom felt numb; devastated. After having his final hopes destroyed, his emotions felt like flotsam and jetsam washed out to sea.

“Damn it to hell and back.”

Once again, Tom endured the silence. He felt it fill the empty spaces produced by the absence of his hope.

He closed his eyes and considered another bleak thought.

No … Silence is a sound. It’s the noise nothing makes; the nothingness of a ridiculous journey going nowhere.

Noah turned in his seat and the helicopter bucked its displeasure.

“Tom. I think it’s time we made a decision about our destination. Perhaps the priest’s jet …?

Tom nodded his agreement.

“Where’s it parked, priest?”

The clergyman grinned, displaying ultra-white teeth between bushy layers of black beard. He didn’t seem affected by Tom’s disrespect.

“You’re already heading directly for it. It’s parked in front of the Air-Facilities terminal at Albury Airport.”

“So what do you propose?”

Before she could interrupt, he turned to Isobel and curled his lips into an awkward looking smile.

“Let him speak now, Iz. This is important.”

She made another unpleasant face and looked away.

“Don’t call the tower, that’s for sure. They’ll be listening; they’ll trace it. There’s some parkland by the river with no housing nearby. We can land there and walk to the aircraft. It’s not that far.”

Tom interjected.

“How do we get aboard? By force?”

“No. No. I’ll talk us in.”

Isobel reached over and grabbed him. He could feel her arm shaking.

“Hey … I’ve got something to say about this.”

“Now isn’t the time for an argument, Iz.”

The priest tried to pat her on the shoulder, but she stiffened and pulled away. He removed his hand and spoke gently.

“You have something to tell us, young lady?”

Isobel sat forward and focused her attention on the other occupants of the cabin, ignoring the priest.

“Tom’s right. The missing number is twenty two. It didn’t work because it’s the nothing that’s missing.”

They all looked equally puzzled.

“Tom. I know.”

T
he chairman scrutinised the man on the screen with a great deal of trepidation. Wolf radiated confidence and something far darker, yet he felt he didn’t have a choice when it came to hiring him.

He clamped his jaw as he considered the ramifications of his decision and the man himself. Somehow God made a terrible mistake when he fashioned him. The beautiful olive skin of Italian youth created a facade that covered a heart and frame, more robotic-metal, than flesh, cartilage and bone.

His thoughts drifted away from Wolf and back to the members of the Assembly board.

By the time they find out I’ll have won and all will be forgiven.

He justified his deception by believing that their success vindicated his actions and also because of a need for expediency.

They’ll eventually find out the truth and they’ll applaud the outcome.

As the televised interview of Wolf continued, Antonio counted on the man’s powerful presence to prevent any questioning until the right moment.

He smiled as each member of the board appeared to succumb to The Darkman’s charm. They concentrated on the strong angular jaw and the black wavy hair, but his most prominent feature created the greatest effect on his comrades. Wolf stared back at the board members with the black and expressionless eyes of a shark. Antonio wondered just how many men have searched those dark mirthless orbs and in their reflection, witnessed their own demise.

The chairman felt relieved as he counted his comrade’s subtle hand gestures; each signifying their acquiescence.

Good … It’s done.

No-one doubted Wolf’s heritage. His dark looks may have come from a Napolitano-Calabrese beauty, but the powerful frame and legendry fierceness came from his father; a pink faced English assassin with a penchant for excessive violence.

“Gentlemen, I give you our new head of security, Mr Bruno Wolf.”

The members of the board applauded their newest appointment, displaying no emotion and four precise claps.

I got what I wanted, yet …

He looked at the other members of the Assembly board and couldn’t help noticing just how easily this man dominated them from across the world.

It’s too late to question my decision. I just have to live with the consequences.

_____________

It remained a shadowy twilight in the glade. The dawn needed several more hours before it could clear the steep slopes of heavily forested mountainside. Frederick took refuge in the gloom, wishing that he could disappear entirely.

No. I have to clear my mind of fear … I have to think.

He needed not only to survive, but to change this situation to his advantage.

He strode into the middle of the clearing.

“Captain. We have an appointment.”

The captain removed his sidearm. He meant to carry out his threat.

“Alright, Vogel, get on with it.”

“Captain, you stand there threatening my life, but without me, everyone in this clearing is going to die. Do you understand? Without me we can’t win this game.”

“Win what game? Don’t play with me, Vogel.”

Frederick nodded towards the waiting SRP soldiers.

“I’ll tell only you, captain. This story’s not for your men. That’s my deal.”

“You’re in no position to make deals, but I’ll agree for the time being. Now, start talking and don’t get boring, or you won’t get the chance to finish.”

“Alright, but let me call in the other helicopter from Mount Hotham. You can talk to the pilot yourself, so there’ll be no danger to you, or your men. Whatever happens, we can’t let Fox get too far away. Our lives depend on it.”

After arranging the helicopter, the captain listened as Vogel explained the meaning of the Prize; his story of Angels and wars, and ultimate power never becoming boring.

I’m back in control; back in the game. With the helicopter I can still win.

He insisted that his position remained paramount, but agreed that the captain could take control of all operational military concerns. By the time the helicopter arrived, he owned a small, private and very motivated force of men.

_____________

The Darkman smiled into his mobile monitor. The most powerful men in the world applauded him, confirming his rise to the heights of the organisation, but his face remained passive, his smile demure.

Show no emotion. I’ll celebrate in private.

He saw the chairman nod, followed by the rest of the board; his cue to address the committee. He intended to display his serious intent to the men of the Assembly.

“After lengthy studies of Vogel’s file and psychology, I am forced to respectfully disagree with the board’s assessment.”

He stopped and smiled, but it contained nothing but venom; daring anyone to disagree. His lips curled back into a savage looking smile, when the lion of the group took up the challenge.

The chairman smiled back with equal malice.

“How so, Mr Wolf? And before you answer, please bear in mind that we are only interested in facts, not personal assumptions.”

“Vogel’s psychological report indicates that there are no circumstances which could drive him to change to a weaker side. If he aspires, he will do so for his own power, either going it alone or with an organisation he judges to be greater than the Assembly. I have checked every possible source and every conceivable organisation powerful enough to take on the Assembly, yet in the end, only one name stood out; the Black Cardinal.”

He stopped speaking so that the name could gain emphasis.

“Gentlemen. I have people in place who will be able to substantiate our suspicions, but even if there is another entity involved, we haven’t got time to waste. We can’t allow Vogel or any other to win the day. He must be put down at once, like the dog he is.”