Blood Prize (13 page)

T
he G11 team landed ten minutes behind schedule at Mount Hotham Airport, due to low cloud and poor visibility. Tom fled the twin otter before the propellers ceased to spin.

He wandered into the car park sucking in the damp coldness of the mountain air. He felt annoyed that she followed him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? You look green.”

“I’m fine … Just bugger off will you.”

Oh God.

Could he never come up with the right words? Foolishness seemed to fall out of his mouth whenever he tried to speak to her.

“Please yourself then.”

“Alright, I will.”

“Good.”

Great. Now I feel sick and stupid.

He began to focus on his new environment, not wanting to think about her or his stomach. For the first time, he managed a fleeting glimpse of the mountain. Clumps of vegetation appeared through the shifting fog, but little else.

He heard the clamour of raised voices. He turned back towards the arrivals area where an angry Luther shook a fist at one of the airport staff.

“Bloody incompetent imbeciles.”

Luther rarely spoke and never loudly.

“These people …”

Tom tugged on Noah’s jacket as he attempted to ease past him in the narrow baggage claim area.

“What’s going on Noah?”

“It’s bad. The charter company lost two of our packs.”

Noah’s full lips stretched into a snarl, causing Tom’s smile to slip from his face. Without consciously thinking about it, he altered the tone of his voice to fit in with Noah’s mood.

“How bad?”

“We’ve lost a good deal of our light weaponry and ammunition, most of our rope, all of our crampons except one pair and all of the ice axes.”

A prearranged taxi-bus arrived and Noah walked off to meet it before Tom could answer. Within minutes, all of the group and the remaining luggage, sped north-west towards Diamantina Hut; the starting point of the Razorback Track to Mount Feathertop.

Along the way, Tom marvelled at the natural ice sculptures clinging to the branches of the trees and the smooth wet bark that resembled human skin.

“This place’s amazing, isn’t it?”

No-one answered. No-one seemed interested.

He continued his study of the scenery, taking pleasure from the experience of seeing something unique. Outside of the heated van, the ice-trees seemed to be an impenetrable barrier to anyone seeking a way through. Squat trunks rose into a tangle of twisted branches with a thin canopy of leaves, allowing the ice to cling and hang in shards.

Noah bumped Tom with his shoulder and gave him a smile.

“We live on a strange planet, lad. This time last year, extreme heat and bushfires ravaged these mountains. This summer, we’ll be lucky if it gets above freezing.”

They reached the main resort village of Mount Hotham in just under thirty minutes and continued for several more kilometres down from the summit before pulling into a cutting, off the side of the road. Tom could just see the A-framed outline of the mountain hut through the fog; its snow covered roof extending all the way to the ground on each side.

As the taxi driver eased on the brakes and splashed to a stop in the mud, he turned to Noah and pointed in the opposite direction towards the west.

“The Razorback starts across the road.”

The entire group turned in unison and searched the whiteness for any sign of a track. Tom could only see what appeared to be a very steep drop off.

Each member of the group alighted from the taxi and collected their gear. No-one spoke. Tom hurried across the road and down onto the track, where the rest of the group huddled together, waiting for Noah’s final instructions.

“Isobel. Look.”

Isobel turned in time to witness the thick cloud shift from the Razorback’s narrow ridge; its long serrated rim jutting out above a lower layer of cloud. In the distance, it joined the sunlit peak of Mount Feathertop, before new weather submerged it from sight.

Tom felt a jolt of fear. Near the summit lay their goal and his destiny.

“Alright, pay attention.”

Noah stood in the middle of a tight circle; using his index finger to emphasise his commands to each individual in the team.

“Uta and Julius will make up our vanguard, with Uta on point duty until they reach the Twin Knobs. The location is obvious.”

Uta snorted, rolled her eyes and elbowed Julius.

“Two knobs are always better than one, hey?”

Tom studied Noah’s face. All knew his aversion to crassness, yet his expression never wavered.

“Once we receive the all clear signal from the point, the rest of us will catch up. Luther and Surat will handle our rear guard. Is everyone clear on this?”

Noah gave each of his team a searching look.

“Good. Let’s get on with it then.”

Isobel strode up to Tom and for a moment, he didn’t recognise her in the hooded wet-weather jacket and pants.

“How do I look?”

“Like a garden gnome.”

“Nice. Thanks a lot.”

“You asked.”

“Look, I wanted to ask you if Noah’s said anything further about the timing of this trek.’

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, the guidebook says it’s a six-hour hike, but the taxi driver said something like four.”

“Alright. I’ll compromise and say five.”

“Brilliant … I’d say we have about five hours of daylight left, so if we don’t get moving, we’ll be walking in the dark.”

Once they began, it only took eight hundred metres, before they reached a junction in the track. The left fork rose up along a snow pole line to the Bon Accord Spur track and down twelve hundred and fifty metres to the township of Harrietville. Noah led them to the right towards the main track, which sidled the eastern slope of the Razorback Spur, towards a deep saddle.

Here he stopped and pulled them into another tight group.

“We’re heading down into the Big Dipper. It’s icy and slippery, so be extra careful.”

Noah fumbled with the scarf covering his nose and mouth. Tom thought he looked stern, even angry as he attempted to pull it free with heavy gloves.

“Listen carefully. Only Luther has crampons for his boots. This means, we’ll have to rope ourselves together. With the weight of these packs, it’ll be hard to stay on our feet. If someone falls, brace yourself. Jam your walking poles into the snow and hang on, to prevent yourself from going over the edge.”

_____________

Frederick Vogel clung to the strap of his seat belt as his Assembly Learjet bucked and jerked in the dense cloud, on its final approach to Mount Hotham Airport.

He didn’t notice his assistant arrive until he began to speak.

“Sir, as per your instructions, I’ve confirmed the status of the weather. Original forecasts proved to be inconclusive. The thick cloud around us is only a section of an approaching group of storms that’ll start affecting us within fifteen minutes.”

“And …?”

“Sir?”

“That’s not what I asked you to find out. We have two contracted helicopters at our disposal. One here at Hotham and one down in the valley, at Porepunkah Airport near Bright. I asked you to find out whether we’re going to get them off the ground for this operation.”

Vogel suffered the bumpy landing and watched his assistant return as the aircraft taxied towards the arrivals terminal. The man’s face revealed his answer before he spoke.

Not good news. The fool looks nervous.

His operation required the speed and accuracy of air support. Walking in behind the PMSG meant plugging escape routes.

“Sir.”

“Yes. What?”

“The contractors have informed us that they won’t be going up until conditions are suitable. The storms will ground the helicopters until further notice.”

With a flick of his hand Vogel dismissed his assistant.

To trap them, I need to keep thinking like them; I need to keep understanding their plans.

For this reason, he employed his backup tactics before boarding the aircraft in Sydney; requiring strategic placement of a small force of men at every major road and trail end.

I have to keep them in the net at all costs.

His backup team sealed off the northern end of the Razorback Spur walking track at the point where it became a four-wheel drive road down to the Ovens Valley. They also covered both the Bungalow Spur and the Northwest Spur walking tracks, leading down to the town of Harrietville.

Once the enemy moved through to the west of the Twin Knobs, he could secure the area and eliminate the Bon Accord and Diamantina Spurs to the east of that position.

If they managed to break free and elude their main advance, he could force them down one of the only escape routes and into a trap.

Not bad, but I need those helicopters and their infrared.

He nodded with certainty.

The backup strategy didn’t change the rules of the game.

When Uta confirms the location of the Prize, they all die and I take my place at the head of the table.

_____________

Uta performed her tasks several hundred metres ahead of Julius. She left him to secure the Twin Knobs, while she began a reconnaissance further up the track past High Knob. Her route covered the start of the Diamantina track, which led east and descended to the base of Mount Jaithmathang.

She searched for specific points in the narrow terrain that could offer an advantage in defence, or be a likely area for possible ambush. On either side of the ridge, the land fell away steeply; five hundred metres on the eastern side and even further on the western slope.

Uta looked at her watch, hid herself from any possible surveillance and began the transmission.

“How did he kill them?”

Sometimes the routine identifying the caller and the correct frequency annoyed her, but it provided extra security around their communications.

“He ensnared them with a lance through the leg, my darling, leaving them defenceless against the knife; his true passion and the tool of their deliverance.”

“I need to speak to him, Réz. It’s important.”

“The cardinal’s not here my sweet. What’s the matter?”

“That idiot, Vogel. Could he be more obvious? Like that old newspaper to bring Fox to the priest. So stupid.”

“But, you’re still operational … Aren’t you?”

“Noah’s on to us, Réz. I’ve seen it in the way he looks at me. He’s just biding his time.”

“It’s just a feeling though and nothing specific, maybe you’re just imagining …”

“No … My instincts don’t lie, Réz. If we lose the element of surprise, he could bring us down.”

“Uta, listen my darling. If this man suspected you of treachery, he would never have allowed you to go on this mission. It’d be a fatal mistake. So stop worrying. Remember, we’ve almost won.”

_____________

Frederick Vogel paced around in circles kicking at the snow. Being patient never appealed to him.

Where is the woman? I could kill her.

“Raptor. Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Vogel, we’re clear. Go ahead.”

“Where the hell have you been? What’s your status?”

“I’m on the ground at Hotham airport, with four to six hours to our destination. Where are you?”

“I’m still at our temporary headquarters in Sydney, waiting for your message. What’s taking so long?”

He knew that Uta would be alert to every nuance in his tone; looking for any sign that he’d discovered her lie.

“You know I can’t make contact, Vogel. Not unless I’m alone.”

“Uta, it’s imperative that you communicate information pertaining to the Prize and your movements. Make yourself alone. Is that clear?”

Vogel stretched his lips into a smirk. Out-deceiving the charlatan felt good. He couldn’t wait to rid himself of these vermin.

“Listen up, Vogel. Noah has changed our plans. We won’t be leaving Mount Hotham until the morning because of storms. This means I should have your confirmation by eighteen hundred hours tomorrow.”

“Good. Out for now.”

Frederick re-joined his SRP squad.

Lying bitch.

When the red headed devil-woman showed up at Villa Dal Santo, his instincts screamed betrayal. Now he knew for sure.

Uta has a twin.

T
om followed Isobel into a small depression, sheltered by an amphitheatre of rocky outcrops. He removed their packs and threw them onto the snow.

“Welcome to the Twin Knobs, Izzi.”

“Izzi? Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know … It suits you.”

To discover her reaction, he searched under her rain jacket’s hood for a face. Between darkened snow goggles and multiple layers of facial scarfs and beanies, he only found a tiny area of reddened skin on the top of her cheeks.

“Is this you trying to be nice, Tom?”

He noticed his reflection in her ski goggles and tried to picture her intense stare behind.

“Can you ever come up with a sentence that isn’t a question?”

“No … It appears I can’t.”

He recognised the hurt feelings in her tone.

“Sorry, Iz. I didn’t mean it to sound so bad.”

“Yeah, well you can keep your Iz.”

“Seriously, it comes out wrong every time. I meant it to be fun.”

She stared at him for a long time, nodded, then walked to the far side of the depression.

Hell. Why am I so verbally incontinent?

Maybe he could keep his mouth closed and just nod, instead of embarrassing himself every time he spoke to her.

He saw movement, which distracted him from the melancholy of his thoughts. The remainder of the group began to appear out of the fog, forming a ring around their leader. Noah glanced over at Tom and smiled. In that instant, Tom perceived something furtive and mischievous in his expression.

“Everybody, move in tight.”

Light snow began to fall on the huddle and their combined breath rose above like smoke from a chimney.

“Uta. You and Julius will stay here and set up a defensive position.”

“No … I’m the point. I go where the action is.”

Tom could see Noah’s hand resting on the handle of his automatic pistol.

“Yes. Exactly, Uta. Any action against us will come from behind. You’re needed to secure this position. Both of you will take turns sweeping the area. I want a five hundred metre reconnaissance with regular communication and if the enemy engage, I want you to hold and retreat as slowly as possible until you receive other orders.”

“Noah, I own the vanguard. I’m the best …”

“I’m not asking, Uta. You will do what you’re ordered to do.”

Uta seethed. In the midst of the huddle, her anger felt palpable.

Tom forced his expression to remain neutral, when he really felt like flinging himself onto the snow and laughing with relief.

You’re absolutely brilliant, Noah.

They knew her deception. She functioned as a scout to confirm the location of their goal and as a trigger to kill from within. This information allowed Tom to understand Noah’s tactic. He made her impotent, by leaving her in the rear and eliminating her from the game.

Noah’s actions compelled Vogel to assume that he still maintained control, yet rendered him powerless to act.

Brilliant. Hopefully he’s given us the time we need.

Tom felt the wind intensify as they began to set out. He watched as Luther and Surat marched off to begin their forward reconnaissance; quickly disappearing into the denseness of the wind driven snow.

He knew that the ferocity of the weather aided them by shielding their activities. He also realised its fickle nature. The enemy remained blind to their endeavours, yet could utilise the same conditions to screen an approach.

The main group left five minutes after the vanguard. They roped up and began walking into a swirling world of white. Tom couldn’t discern any difference between the path and the sky.

Concentrate … Focus on your feet.

He couldn’t see Noah at the head of their column, yet he understood the drop awaiting them on either side of the track. The group followed a narrow crest that wound around the western side of High Knob for seven hundred metres. After a short stop, they sidled left again and travelled a similar distance, before reaching a saddle that Noah called: ‘The Cross’. He explained that a memorial cairn lay nearby, attesting to lives lost on this mountain.

Tom didn’t need a warning. He walked with the very real possibility of falling, dying of exposure, or being murdered by Vogel.

He felt the rope go slack. Then he heard laughter and noticed a renewed enthusiasm in the voices ahead of him. He peered through the gloom and spotted Noah leaning against a thick, ice-covered tree with a sign reading: ‘The Junction’.

The summit of Mount Feathertop lay two kilometres to the right and north of the junction. They set off immediately, turning left and travelling slightly down and south-west for another five hundred metres. They walked within metres of the high mountain hut before they saw it through the storm.

_____________

Uta gestured for Julius to come to her position with sharp tugs of her arm.

“Come on, I need you to help me with this shelter.”

Together, they stretched lightweight tarps over a rough frame of eucalypt branches, hidden amongst the surrounding rocks. The blue material stood out initially, but within minutes, the falling snow hid the structure from any approaching force.

“Alright, give it a try, Jules. See if we’ll both fit.”

She noted his expression of suspicion.

“Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

“So you get first reconnaissance …?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Julius looked around. He still seemed wary.

Come on fool make a move.

He bent forward to enter the hide.

Yes.

Uta found time to pick a spot on the back of his head. She withdrew her side arm and in one easy movement, slammed the handle down onto the imagined target point on his skull.

Julius hung in the air, lunged forward, then slumped down into unconsciousness. She inflicted two more blows to make sure he stayed there.

“How’s that feel, pretty boy?”

Uta removed one of the cords from the shelter, cut it into two pieces and tied his feet and hands. She knelt and tugged at his bloodied hair, until his face came level with hers.

“I’m going to make your last moments memorable, but for now …”

Time pressure intervened, deferring her gratification. She dragged his heavy unconscious frame into the shelter and sighed. Nothing beat a warm bleeder, with time to consider his death.

_____________

Tom lit a fire in the potbelly stove at the far end of the hut and waited to reload it with larger pieces of wood. He heard her behind him, rubbing her hands together to keep warm.

“It’ll warm up in here soon, Iz.”

“I hope so. I’m freezing.”

Grinning, he turned and gathered her in his arms.

“No … Stop it, Tom. Leave me alone.”

The swiftness of his actions seemed to frighten her and she resisted; her body stiffening and tugging against his grip, but he didn’t let go.

“This is how the Eskimos keep warm, Izzi.”

She began to relax and soften in his embrace.

“Bullshit, Tom. You just made that up.”

He began to rub her back and shoulders, and she responded by wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling the side of her face against his chest.

The door burst open and they pulled away from each other as Noah approached.

“We’ve got no time for … mucking around. Prepare some food and a brew, while Surat and I start looking.”

“I was just getting Isobel’s circulation going.”

“Get on with it, Tom.”

The outer door creaked open and banged closed. Both Tom and Noah turned and faced the hut’s inner door, just as Surat rushed through. He almost ran towards them; his eyes bulging as he gripped and shook Noah’s shoulders.

“Noah. Uta’s outside.”

“No, she can’t be.”

“She’s come back and without Julius. She says he slipped and fell and is probably dead.”

Noah’s placid expression expanded into a grotesque scowl of ferocity.

“Tell Uta to wait for me outside, then go and collect Luther. Get going and keep your wits about you.”

Tom could see a nerve pulsing in Noah’s neck. It took some time before he spoke.

“I fear our plans have turned against us. What the hell have I done, lad?”

“I think you did the right thing, Noah.”

Tom hesitated before answering. He felt surprised. Noah never sought anyone’s advice.

“I think that someone’s desperate to be back in the game, but you can’t let that happen.”

Noah’s mouth twisted into a bitter looking smile.

“Be prepared for anything, Tom. Keep Isobel close and be ready to leave if necessary.”

He turned and marched out of the building.

The hut fell silent, as the remaining three occupants exchanged questioning glances. Petra tried to speak, but couldn’t. She looked dumbfounded; her head tilted forward and her mouth fell open.

Tom’s heart began to pound as he hurried out of the building with the two women following close behind. He spotted four people draped with snow; their faces aglow in the torch light.

As he approached he watched Noah’s features transform themselves from fierceness into cool composure.

“Uta. What happened?”

“I did what you ordered; I completed a quick reconnaissance east towards Mount Hotham. When I came back, I thought I heard a call for help, so I went to investigate. I moved to a point only ten metres or so forward of our hide, but he’d already gone over the edge.”

Tom couldn’t believe Uta’s sincerity. He considered her acting to be magnificent, but chilling, yet he didn’t think any one of them believed her.

“He walked too close to the side and the tracks ended in a struggle to hold on. I found some yellow patches in the snow. He must have gone for a piss and without crampons … Well, you can guess the rest.”

“Did you call out to him?”

“Yes, but he didn’t answer. The terrain’s steep; more of a fall, than a slide. I couldn’t get down there … No way.”

“Why didn’t you call in?”

“My transmitter’s dead. Check it yourself. The other one went over the side with Julius.”

Tom could almost see Noah’s mind working, as they stood there in the snow. They needed Uta to remain functional, but as far from the hut as possible. The original decision remained the correct one, even though it cost a life. Tom understood Noah’s guilt, but they couldn’t deviate from their plan, despite his feelings.

“Luther. Take Uta and gather the remainder of our rope. Petra, I know it’s not your job, but I want you to go as well. You’ll handle communications and help Luther with whatever he needs.”

Petra’s eyes widened. Tom understood her solemn expression as she nodded. She knew the danger and accepted it.

“I need you to find him. If he’s dead, leave the body and get back here. All except you Uta. I want our best person out there covering our retreat. You’re to stay there, until we move out. Alright … Get going.”

None of the remaining party thought to move, until Uta’s torchlight disappeared into the night.