Blood Prize (11 page)

N
oah formed part of the scrimmage, jostling for position around Petra, as she began to remove the rear casing from the watch. He could see the pressure of their expectation building in her strained expression and hunched shoulders.

“Bloody hell.”

Noah heard the casing clang as it bounced on to the floor. He also saw splashing droplets of blood, forming patterns on the surface of the table.

“Petra. What have you done?”

“I’m sorry, Noah.”

“Everybody move back.”

“I couldn’t help it. I pushed a bit hard and the screwdriver went into the mechanism … then it slipped off the metal and into my hand.”

“You’ll live. Show me the casing, lass.”

Her dripping fingers retrieved the jettisoned casing and placed it in Noah’s hand without covering it with any of her blood.

“There are markings here. Petra, hand me the magnifying glass.”

Noah hardly noticed the red stickiness coating the handle as he focused on the inner side of the casing.

“It’s a row of numbers: 143, 12, ( ), 49.”

Heads turned towards their neighbour, searching for the obvious answer, but no-one spoke. Noah stared at the numbers on his pad and tried to determine an explanation.

“It could be a phone number, or a safe’s combination, or longitude and latitude coordinates, but without the missing numbers to decipher the code, it’s just data with no meaning.”

He closed his eyes, sighed and turned back towards Petra.

“Is there anything else, lass?”

“There might be more inside the mechanism.”

“Alright, keep looking, but clean up first before you drown the damn watch.”

It took fifteen minutes for the pained expression on Petra’s face to change into a tight smile.

“Noah … Noah. I’ve found a chip inside the watch’s mechanism. A data storage chip.”

“Alright, go off somewhere quiet. Let’s see if we can extract some useful information without any more accidents.”

Noah could feel the growing tension as he sat down next to Tom and squeezed the young man’s shoulder.

“The waiting’s always the hardest.”

He felt a shiver of nervous anticipation. Even at Petra’s pace, it might only be a short while before they found the location of the Prize.

_____________

Isobel caught sight of Noah, raising his hand, in an attempt to speak, but the clamour in the room seemed to frustrate his efforts.

“Alright everybody, a bit of quiet please.”

She smiled. The noise level continued to thwart him.

“Everybody … Shut the hell up.”

All noise ceased.

“Now, Petra, my clever lassie. What’ve we got?”

“I’m so sorry, Noah. There’s a problem with the storage device.”

“A problem …?”

“There’s some corruption and loss of data.”

“Because of the screwdriver?”

“Yes … I’m sorry.”

The room hushed into another awkward silence. Isobel thought the atmosphere felt ominous. Only Noah appeared to remain calm.

“Just tell us what you do have.”

Petra lifted the tiny chip and everyone bent forward.

“I managed to rescue the file heading. Just two words. It’s a title, or a place perhaps.”

“Yes, go on.”

“That’s all, just a name; Raptor Park.”

Despite the rising sounds of disappointment around the room, Isobel noticed the excitement in Noah’s expression. She didn’t share his optimism. The name made her feel queasy.

“Has anybody heard of this place before?”

No-one responded.

“Petra, get on to the internet and find anything you can about Raptor Park. Don’t forget that the enemy watch for particular words or phrases of interest, so use blocking software.

Noah turned towards Isobel; his expression severe.

“We need you to think hard, young lady. A bit of local knowledge might provide the answer.”

She tried to respond, but Uta cut her off.

“I’m sick of this little bitch. She’s a recipe for death. I vote we get rid of her. We can force the information out of the priest ourselves. Trust me; I’ll make him squeal.”

Isobel felt her heartbeat increase. She looked around the room for allies and held her breath. She only exhaled when Noah spun around to face the woman.

“Uta. Shut it. Now. Not another word.”

Isobel squeezed her hands together to stop them from shaking. They felt clammy; this woman could scare the Devil. She made a quick decision to change the course of the conversation. Her soft voice immediately defusing the confrontation.

“Excuse me, Noah. Uta. What’s this about a priest?”

Surat answered for both of them.

“He knew your father. They worked together. He’s the one that led us to you.”

Isobel’s mouth turned down into an expression of loathing. Not even Uta’s death threat caused such a look of revulsion, but only Noah seemed to recognise her distress.

“Are you alright, lass? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Isobel didn’t hear him. Her head throbbed with unwanted memories.

“What’s his name … This priest?”

Noah rushed over, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“It’s Dom. Father Dominico
Rossi to be exact. Have you heard of him?”

Isobel didn’t answer. She broke loose and staggered towards the window; her face stretching into a grotesque expression of loathing. She turned away from them before she spoke.

“Years ago, before my father died, he employed a technician called Mali. He always seemed nice, even though he felt ill most of the time. Before he died, he started to tell me about his friendship with my father. He told me about this Father Dom; the betrayer.”

Isobel noticed Tom flinch and straighten in his chair. His eyes blinked in quick succession as he began to stand.

“So you’re saying that the priest is involved in your father’s death?”

“Yes.”

Noah followed her to the window and again she felt his hands grab her shoulders.

“Don’t … That hurts.”

He didn’t stop. Instead, he began to shake her with aggression.

“Stop it. Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.”

Noah let go of her and she backed away from him.

“Isobel, It’s very important that we get this right. It’s vital. The priest, Father Dominico Rossi. Are you sure it’s him?”

Isobel felt aggrieved.

How dare he touch her.

“Isobel. Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

Her eyes sought Tom’s; they shared the same sadness.

“Yes. Yes. He’s the deceiver. He’s responsible for the murder of our families.”

_____________

Frederick Vogel gave the cardinal his most condescending smile, yet it didn’t appear to have any effect on the man’s arrogance.

“I thought I made it perfectly clear, Mr Vogel. I chose to meet with the whole Assembly Council and not just with you. Perhaps you’re not taking me seriously.”

“Please, Your Grace, have a seat and some refreshment.”

He offered the cardinal the very same chair in the eighth-floor parlour room of the Intercontinental De La Ville - Roma that previously harboured so much of his own suspense and worry.

“The chairman has agreed to meet you. He’ll speak for the entire council.”

The cardinal gave a grunt of disapproval. He fell into the proffered seat and turned his face away from Vogel.

“Regrettably, the chairman has been delayed. He offers his apologies. Please ring the bell if you require anything that will make your stay more comfortable.”

Frederick hid his grin as he left the room. How pleasurable to be the one in the penthouse, while others perspired.

Vogel kept the cardinal waiting as long as possible, so he could utilise the time to study him, yet the man’s body language and facial features did not change. He remained arrogant and superior, frustrating his planned analysis.

“Look at his airs and graces. He’s not acting, he’s confident.”

The chairman nodded.

“He’s sure we’ll accept.”

Frederick felt a moment of fear. The chairman’s face remained expressionless, but his eyes bulged with anger.

“Before we bring in our pompous friend, tell me about these accusations concerning the priest.”

Vogel handed the chairman his report.

“My spy inside the PMSG has confirmed this information directly to me. As you’ll see in the report, the Kite girl has recognised the priest. She has already informed the PMSG members of his involvement with the Assembly and her father’s subsequent murder.”

The security chief smiled to himself. Destroying an enemy always felt good.

“This makes him an untrustworthy source. If he attempts in any way to continue, it will put my contact and all of our endeavours at risk.”

The chairman gave a grunt of acquiescence.

“Given these circumstances, I authorise you to cease the priest’s involvement with our enterprise. Remove him immediately, but do not terminate him. For the moment his knowledge may be useful.”

T
om sat at the kitchen bench and tried to remain calm, while most of the others paced and fidgeted. Isobel’s identification of the priest seemed to smother their hope, adding suspicion to any information gathered from that source.

If the priest knew their movements, the SRP could take them at any time. So why hadn’t they?

“Noah, can I have a word … In private? Just you, me, and Isobel.”

Noah led them up the stairs to the far bedroom. As they entered, he checked that no-one else came behind, before closing the door.

“You know something?”

“Yes. I think I know what’s happening here.”

“Go on, lad.”

“I think it’s all been a setup. Our meeting. Isobel’s rescue. Our trip here; it’s contrived; controlled by the Assembly …”

Tom searched Noah’s eyes for signs of accordance, but the man turned his face away before speaking.

“Yes … Go on.”

“If it all originates from them, then they’re creating the timing. So why didn’t they take us out?”

“I think you already know the answer, Tom.

Isobel joined the dialogue; her voice shrill with emotion.

“Those bastards could have killed me?”

Tom squeezed his lips together and shook his head.

“No. No way. They wanted us to be together. They wanted us in the PMSG and to have no way back.”

“Yes … And?”

“They’re using us as pathfinders.”

Tom felt Isobel’s hand make contact with his wrist. He flinched, surprised by the soft touch. She jerked it away and he noticed her face begin to redden. To divert the awkward silence he sought her opinion.

“What do you think, Isobel?”

She took a moment to compose herself before answering.

“Yes, I agree, but I have a question for both of you.”

“Go ahead, lass.”

“If we lead them to the Prize, what happens to us?”

Noah’s voice sounded harsh as he replied.

“They’ll kill every one of us.”

Tom banged his fist on the surface of the small coffee table between them. It made a cracking sound, but didn’t break.

“Bastards.”

“Tom, keep your voice down.”

Noah stood, marched to the door and checked the hall, before returning to his seat.

“Brilliant deductions. Well done, Tom. But, have you worked out how they’re doing it?”

“Yes.”

Isobel looked baffled.

“What does he mean? Who’s doing it, Tom?”

“We have a traitor amongst us. That’s how they control our movements. That’s how they monitor us.”

“In our team? You’re joking.”

Noah laughed and Tom thought it sounded cruel. Their leader began to pace the room before he spoke.

“Brilliance. Utter brilliance. How did you work it out, lad?”

“Whoever placed that newspaper in the medical box is the spy. We would never have approached the priest otherwise. You know who I’m talking about?”

“Touché, Tom. Uta is the spy.”

_____________

Tom allowed himself a moment to ponder the man in front of him; the one person he felt he could trust. Once a family man with a beloved wife, now a hunted outlaw near the top of the most wanted list.

He focused on Noah’s face, following the scar that ran a course down the inside of his right ear, over his jaw bone and all the way across the underside of his chin.

Tom knew how he received the wound. In June of 2029, Noah and his wife, Heather, took a flight to New York City, to participate in a rally for human rights. It got ugly, but that didn’t stop them continuing on to Washington for another demonstration outside of the White House.

Noah returned to their motel that night, after a failed mission to locate a bottle of celebratory champagne, only to find his room full of security police; some bloodied and partially dressed.

His mind took some time to comprehend the rope that bound Heather’s neck to the bed head. More cord secured her ankles to the smaller posts at the other end. Used prophylactics and the knife they utilised to torture her, rested on her stomach; a macabre setting created for him; a warning, a technique to control his actions.

Noah exploded with rage.

His allies found him fifteen minutes later, in a truck stop behind the motel; his throat cut and a bullet in his back. His beloved Heather, lay lifeless beside him. Tom wondered how any man could survive, or recover from such an emotional wound, yet the man in front of him seemed incapable of hatred.

_____________

The chairman disliked open displays of emotion. He hissed with distaste as his guest approached like a crown prince on the way to his coronation.

Haughty, self-important dandy.

He forced any signs of disgust from his expression as the cardinal entered the penthouse suite. With a grunt, he raised his bulk into a semi-erect stoop and embraced the cardinal in greeting, offering him a seat beside Vogel at the council table.

“Your Grace. The Dal Santo family is glorified by their son. It is a pleasure to have you as our most honoured guest.”

“As I am sure the Costa family is honoured by your greatness, Antonio. It is indeed my pleasure to be here, not only to confirm such greatness, but to give it the power that God intended.”

The chairman nodded, accepting the praise. The cardinal seemed in a hurry to deliver his terms.

“Mr Vogel presented your offer to our committee and I must say we found it most interesting, but difficult to achieve.”

The chairman’s expression remained stoic, giving the cardinal no hint of his intentions, but he almost baulked at the clergyman’s display of arrogance.

“You surprise me, Antonio. I didn’t think anything could faze you.”

Vogel sat forward, raising his hand in an attempt to join the conversation.

“How do you propose to substantiate such an offer, Your Grace? Your very high standing aside, I just can’t see how you could guarantee such an arrangement.”

“Well you wouldn’t, Mr Vogel. You’re only privy to this information as Antonio’s faithful servant. Please, do not interrupt me again.”

“My apologies, Your Grace. It’s my responsibility to ask such questions.”

The chairman interjected with a grunt.

“I would be most interested to hear the terms of your offer. If this proposal is to be accepted, then we would need strong assurances of success.”

The cardinal spent the next twenty minutes outlining his proposition. He remained confident throughout; his facial features giving no hint of negativity.

You soulless predator.

The chairman gave a convincing portrayal of indifference, yet he knew the cardinal could see through his mask. His proposal gifted the Assembly with its ultimate goal; vast dominion; power without constraint; the old world becoming the new, yet the man offering this miracle formed its greatest obstacle.

Don’t test his powers of perception. Concentrate. The man is sharp.

The chairman changed direction, utilising all of his theatrical abilities. He needed to be convincing. Before him sat Caligula, the mad Roman Emperor reborn.

“Mr Chairman, like you, I am a firm believer in the old order of things. God awaits his sons, as they bring to fruition his will. Our old order is as He intended. As you know, the Kingdoms of Europe have turned to dust. Their fall from grace, is all part of the Creator’s design.”

He stood for emphasis, displaying his flamboyant presence.

“I own a hidden third of the will of Rome. Those cardinals will side with us, once given proof of ascent. You hold enough of the remaining vote to ensure our victory.”

The chairman gave a slight nod.

“How long will it take for the pope’s seat to become vacant?”

“Less than a year, I can assure you.”

The cardinal compressed his lips. His long held hatred for the present pontiff, unmistakable. He guffawed and spittle wet his chin.

“He is cursed by God and his future is inoperable.”

The chairman waited on the cardinal’s vanity. He pretended not to notice as God’s bishop turned away, using the sleeve of his robe to mop his indiscretion. Antonio put his repugnance aside and continued.

“Because of the timing issue, I will discuss your offer with the council, at their earliest convenience.”

The chairman used his powerful forearms to rise, causing the heavy table to dip. With a convincing display of warmth, he placed his arm around the clergyman’s shoulder and escorted him back to the parlour room.

“The Assembly Council will be in contact with you, as soon as possible. If all are in agreement, we will begin the plan immediately.”

“Yes, Antonio. Together we will rid the world of this hideous new order. May God’s rightful pontiff and his seven kings of the true bloodline reign together forever.”

_____________

Tom’s gaze shifted from Isobel and his expression hardened, as it centred on Noah.

“So, what do we do now? Pretend like nothing’s happened.”

“Yes. The advantage has come back to us. We can play them, but we must do nothing to alert our enemy. When the time comes, we can feed them misinformation and with luck, elude any traps.”

Tom sat in silence for a moment, trying to digest the full meaning of this incredible revelation. They could control this situation if they could control her.

“We have to create a good story to keep Uta convinced. She can’t learn the truth or it’s over.”

“Correct, Tom. Her treachery may be our saviour. Providing most of the truth is the best way of keeping her satisfied.”

They heard movement. Noah lifted a finger to his lips for silence as Luther’s heavy footfalls thudded towards them.

“Noah, you in there? Petra’s found something.”

“Good, bring her here. Don’t let anyone follow you, then leave us alone.”

Petra arrived in a matter of minutes. Her smile fixed on Noah the moment she entered the room.

“I’ve got something.”

“Good girl. Out with it now.”

“Tom’s father owned an exploration company in the name of Raptor Park Enterprises. The article stated that the company existed as a sideline to his normal business. Apparently, it served as an excuse for his interest in palaeontology. They had some pretty good finds out there.”

Noah’s face creased into a frown.

“Where are we talking about, Petra? Where is out there?”

“Mostly locations spread over Northern Australia and Western Queensland.”

“That’s it …? That’s all you found?”

Isobel jumped to her feet with excitement.

“No. It’s more than that. The name. It kept bothering me. Mali, the old man who worked for my father told me about it. Tom, it’s where you lived as a boy. Raptor Park is the name of your home.”