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Authors: Ken Grace

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BOOK: Blood Prize
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Chapter Fifty One

I
sobel couldn’t remember having to deal with so many conflicting emotions all at once. She felt frustrated that these men didn’t always take her seriously. She felt hot anger towards the priest and Tom’s passive acceptance of him. She also felt powerless when it came to the events controlling her life and in the midst of all of these feelings and emotions she felt aroused.

Damn it. I hate you Tom Fox.

At times he made her so furious … but she couldn’t deny the truth to herself forever. Even when the projectiles zizzed around her, she could only think of Tom.

Why am I so attracted to him? Maybe it’s those damn amazing eyes …

He seemed to sense her feelings and she stiffened in surprise when he turned and looked back at her.

Oh God.

He stared at her in that special particular way of his, with his slightly crooked smile and raised eyebrow, and she shivered with intense sensation; surprised by the warmth and wetness between her legs.

I haven’t felt like this since …

She felt amazed that she couldn’t recall the last time she thought about the rape.

Maybe I’ve got you to thank for that Tom, or maybe like you, I’ve grown.

War hardened men accepted Tom as their leader, despite his lack of experience. She realised that he accepted his potential and his confidence reflected his growth into manhood.

It’s not just the sexiness … I trust him … With everything.

She felt tears come to her eyes.

Even if he reciprocated, could she do this? Could she let him …?

When she sat close and concentrated on the sensual movement of his lips, she thought she could abandon all of her fears, but … time to think brought them back in abundance.

Isobel felt his eyes on her once again and looked up from her thoughts.

Sweet Lord. How long have you been staring at me?

She felt embarrassed. Could he see her mind … Read her thoughts? Then she realised with some dismay that all three men stared at her with equally expectant expressions. She also noticed that Noah took in a long slow breath before addressing her.

“Isobel, you have everyone’s attention.”

“Oh, yeah. Well … as I said, it didn’t work because it’s the nothing that’s missing.”

Tom turned to her and she laughed as his smile grew.

“Izzi, you’re a bloody genius.”

Noah’s voice sounded gruff when he questioned her. He seemed annoyed that he didn’t understand.

“Isobel. What nothing is missing?’

“Tom. Tell him what’s missing from the watch?”

“It’s the hand, Noah. It’s minus the hand.”

Isobel flinched as the priest moved forward in his seat. He began searching through the pilot’s case; rustling through a stack of maps, until he withdrew one and held it out for Tom.

“Tom’s right. You’re a genius, young lady. That’s why Professor Fox removed the other hand. The number 22 has to be a minus. Minus the hand.”

She searched Tom’s eyes for his approval and got it. He looked like he might explode with excitement.

“It’s been staring at us the entire time.”

Tom handed the map back to the priest who spread it across his lap; his expression of concentration to the point of ferociousness.

“Tom. I recognise the location. It’s a place called Raptor Park.”

“Raptor Park. No … We checked the old house already.”

“No. No. Not the house.”

Isobel could almost feel Tom’s frustration. His confusion bordered on anger.

The priest also seemed aware of Tom’s annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I’ll explain. These new coordinates represent a place on the map that has significant meaning. It’s a place that doesn’t officially exist. You’ll find no reference to the name on any map. Tom. It’s just your father’s name for a particular dig site.”

“So this is the location of the Prize?”

“Yes. The coordinates pinpoint it exactly. Only a few people know of its existence other than us.”

Isobel felt her face flush with redness.

“Us? There’s no
us
. You’re not one of us.”

The depth of her anger made her shake and the priest’s attempted smile broke her resolve. She lost control.

“No, Iz … No. That’s not the way.”

Several of her blows struck the clergyman and he didn’t resist or even attempt to protect himself. She felt Tom’s hand grasp her right wrist and hold it tight and slowly her senses returned.

“Alright. Alright. I’m sorry.”

She pressed her lips together and tried to look at the priest though tear-blurred eyes. He didn’t respond or even see her. She noticed that his head bent forward almost to his lap, with a hand covering and pressing hard against his gouged eye.

Noah turned in his seat. This time the helicopter didn’t buck as he focused on Isobel.

“Alright everybody. Settle down. We’re getting close to Albury and I need a place to land.”

Without looking up, the priest directed Noah to fly east of the city and come in south of the airport.

“Follow the Murray River. Over there.”

He pointed at a sparkling serpentine shape towards the north-west.

“There’s just enough light to see our way. Our destination is a park called Mungabareena, on the other side of that hill. Follow the river. It’s one of the local swimming holes and not a bad spot to put the Baza down.”

 

 

_____________

 

 

They landed the helicopter without incident and proceeded towards the airport, walking as quickly as possible. Tom utilised the rest of the journey, asking questions and going over their plan to take control of the jet.

Despite a determination to be civil, he felt annoyed with the priest. The clergyman’s ideas seemed calculated and dangerous. He didn’t trust him.

“Tom. You and Noah are wanted men and highly recognisable targets amongst Assembly personnel. I’ll have to go alone. I’ll signal when I’ve taken care of the crew.”

Tom returned the priest’s smile. It felt as bitter as his looked.

“No way. That’s not going to happen. I don’t trust you enough to be totally in your hands. How do you know that the crew will even be there at this hour of the morning?”

“Because they’re employed by the Assembly as my crew and I’ve put them on standby.”

“Alright, but I’m not letting you go over there alone.”

The priest looked back over his shoulder towards Isobel.

“That just leaves one person and it might get a little rough.”

Tom winced hearing Isobel’s angry response.

“If there’s anyone you should be afraid of, it’s me, priest. I’d gladly kill you.”

Tom felt he needed more time to consider the priest’s proposal, particularly considering Isobel’s hatred of him, but their predicament required immediate action.

“Alright. She goes.”

Noah’s expression seemed grim as he strode over towards Isobel. In the dim light, Tom watched him search her eyes for signs of weakness, but she didn’t falter. He removed a silencer from inside the folds of his jacket, attached it to the barrel of a Browning thirty-two calibre automatic pistol and handed it to her.

“Have you ever fired a weapon, lass?”

“No, but I won’t hesitate if I need to. If we’re all going to die, then at least I’ll avenge my father.”

 

 

_____________

 

 

Wolf felt duped. The ultra-sensitive information transmitted to him by the chairman made him cringe.

This’s a bloody death sentence.

After skimming through the documentation he realised that only total success could save him and even then …?

Now that I’ve read this I can’t turn back … I’ll be executed for sure.

He began to delve through a history that few people knew existed.

Whoever has this thing … My God, what power?

He quickly realised the significance of owning it. Even the Assembly’s ascendency could wane; history overflowed with fallen empires, but possessing the Prize infinitely altered that eventuality.

Financial dominance and military might could ultimately be defeated, but not the Prize. It afforded a much greater power; an irrefutable ideology, which meant they could control the world’s population, bending the will of any government or financial power to their own.

And, what a weapon.

They could wield it against anyone who opposed them, domestic or otherwise. He remembered that the Church once utilised a different weapon. The fear of hell maintained their supreme power for centuries, but without the Prize, fear eventually failed.

Now they can bring back the fear of hell and no-one can refute them.

No longer will they require faith and a gullible flock. No-one could disclaim the Angels. If the Assembly controlled the Prize, then they wielded the power of God. Literally.

 

 

_____________

 

 

Vogel sat in the front next to the pilot. The captain and the remainder of the SRP commando team sat in the troop compartment behind him in the rear.

Frederick liked this Shikra helicopter. He knew a good deal about its specifications. It came from the same Indian factory as the Black Baza that the G11’s stole, but where theirs excelled in manoeuvrability, the Shikra won out in its weight bearing ability and sheer speed.

You’re an ugly bird, but just what I need.

This craft could carry his entire team and gear and gain time on the enemy.

And, I know where you’re going, Fox.

The G11 team headed towards Albury; the closest major centre to their current position. The city maintained a range of domestic transport alternatives, but he doubted that anything could have been prearranged.

No. I pushed them down that mountain trail. Nothing’s organised.

He felt flustered. The G11’s escape bothered him. Luck could not have intervened in these circumstances.

“How could they take the Baza so easily? Maybe, just maybe, someone assisted them … Another member of their team, or outside help. It’s the only way they could have achieved it.”

Even though the captain warned against it, Vogel made contact with the tower at Albury Airport. From the flight controller he determined that the Black Baza didn’t land there and that their logbook contained only one new unscheduled arrival in the last forty eight hours; a private jet owned by the Assembly, parked at the terminal overnight.

Is this our unknown player?

He wondered whether the board authorised this as a means of checking up on him, but scrapped the thought immediately.

“No. There’s something else happening here.”

Who could play at that level and utilise company assets. Jets didn’t get assigned lightly, especially for trips to Australia. Outside of the board, only one person came to mind.

“The priest.”

 

 

_____________

 

 

Clear and precise actions defined Bruno Wolf. Meticulous preparation rather than rashness created his legend. He always got the job done, utilising effectiveness and efficiency in every task. It didn’t produce the sure thing, but as close as it got.

I know the colour of your shit, Vogel.

His predecessor hunted Fox, following him and the G11 squad to Mount Hotham. They knew that much. They also knew he pursued them across the Razorback towards Mount Feathertop and began an attack.

But then, who knows …?

With the death of their inside man, they received no further confirmed information. For Vogel to have taken control at that particular point, meant that he held all mountain exits and believed that the G11’s controlled the Prize. He could then trap his foe somewhere that provided him with an easy exit.

You won’t use a fixed wing aeroplane, Vogel. That’s for sure.

Getting to any potential airport created all sorts of logistical problems, mostly around distance, speed and vulnerability. The same rationale applied to road vehicles of any kind. The possibilities began to narrow.

You’ve got yourself a helicopter.

His first destination remained the easy part. He could effortlessly track any aircraft coming out of this region, but needed to cover any other possibilities, no matter how remote.

He looked up as his secretary rushed in.

“Sir, the target has contacted the Albury tower.”

“What? No.”

You’re no fool, Vogel. Why do that?

To give up his intended destination that easily, seemed beyond foolish.

It seems too easy. It must be a ruse.

With Vogel’s position and aircraft confirmed he could be tracked to hell and back.

BOOK: Blood Prize
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