Blood Prize (19 page)

V
ogel watched his captain jog down the Bungalow Spur track, berating his men at every opportunity.

Good. Enough hatred and he’ll kill without hesitation.

Frederick stiffened at the sound of gunfire. It came from the track below them; two loud reports and several rounds of return fire.

The main group of SRP stopped and took cover, while the captain and another soldier moved forward. Frederick saw them encounter their returning scout.

He interrupted their discourse, beckoning the officer with a wave of his arm.

“What’s happening, captain?”

“We’ve got one down wounded, sir. They’ve employed a moving rear guard action to slow us down.”

“So, what are we going to do about it? We’re not going to be held up by a few stray shots are we, captain?”

“If we keep losing our soldiers, we’ll become vulnerable … Sir.”

“As long as we drive the enemy hard into our men at the bottom, it doesn’t matter how many of ours we lose. It’ll save you the trouble later.”

“There’s another way to counter their rear guard without further damage to our force of men.”

“Yes?”

“We redistribute our force, utilising a forward position to move ahead of the group, firing timed sprays of bullets.”

“And, if they lay in wait?”

“They can’t afford to be trapped on the mountain. Our forward team will run and hold until the second group catches up. Then the second group will continue the attack. We’ll force them out of cover into the men below.”

“Good.”

The captain’s proving his worth. If he continues to perform at this level, I might have to consider letting him live.

“Bring me Tom Fox alive and your worth will rise ten-fold.”

Frederick felt relieved. Intermittent showers replaced sleet and snow, and as the temperature rose, the visibility improved.

He removed his communicator and punched the keypad with his forefinger.

What the hell is going on? Where are they?

He couldn’t contact the soldiers guarding the bottom of the spur. He reasoned that it could just be a technical problem, yet his assumption required failure from both of their communicators. That scenario didn’t seem likely.

“Captain. Stop. Rein in your men.”

Perspiration soaked his undergarments and the cold began to creep in and chill his body.

“Captain …”

We have to change tactics. Don’t push the enemy. We have to catch them now, or all could be lost.

_____________

Tom chanced a look in Noah’s direction and noticed his surreptitious nod.

I have to act or we’re going to die.

He felt a sudden rise in body temperature and his ears began to throb. His breathing becoming rapid and shallow and his vision blurred.

Alright, this is it.

He increased the pressure of his grip on Isobel’s arm and in one slinging motion, threw her crashing face-first into the bracken.

“Now.”

Tom charged.

As he leapt forward a spray of droplets erupted from the ferns where Isobel entered.

Dive. Dive at her legs.

He saw the barrel of The Raptor’s gun swing towards him. He also caught sight of a dark blur moving to his left.

Noah.

They charged at her together and in that instant, Tom realised the unescapable truth.

We’re not going to make it.

_____________

Uta backed away from the onrushing threat.

Kill Noah. Smash Fox.

Even under the pressure of this attack, she found time enough to raise the gun to her line of sight before firing.

The Spitter, her beloved Croatian automatic pistol, spat at its victims like a cobra. She felt almost no vibration, as it delivered its toxic spray of bullets at the blur of flesh racing towards her.

_____________

The captain worked his way into the fern covered depression and began reporting as he crouched down beside Vogel.

“They’re keeping to the shadows, sir. We can’t pinpoint the exact location of their shooters.”

“I don’t give a damn. Stop what you’re doing, captain. There’s been a change of plan. I want them caught here and not any further down the track. Is that understood?”

“We’re not driving them into a trap …?”

“No. Things change. Give me a new plan of attack. I want this to end here and now.”

“Sir. What about Fox?”

“What about him?”

“He might be killed.”

“You’re not listening. I want this done without endangering Fox.”

“Sir … To stop them retreating we’ll have to go in heavy. That means there’ll be a lot of lead in the air.”

“No. Tom Fox can’t be harmed under any circumstances.”

Vogel thought the captain looked like a man on his way to the gallows.

“Pull yourself together, man. Our entire mission depends on Fox.”

“Then we’ll have to use the gas.”

“No again, captain. I saw the remaining canisters. That gas is as deadly as any bullet.”

Frederick’s throat felt so dry he could hardly speak. He took a deep breath to calm his growing anxiety and used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his face.

“What the hell are you thinking, captain?”

“Sir, let me explain. We can utilise non-lethal gas.”

“And the danger to Fox is minimal?”

“Yes, the target will be unconscious for a short time only, but it’s still a combat zone. There’s always some risk involved.”

Vogel felt like punching the man.

Solutions. That’s what I want, not complications.

“Sir. The wind’s stopped. This’s good for us. This type of gas is less efficient in a windy environment.”

Frederick started to calm down. The plan appeared to be workable.

“Alright, let’s get it done.”

If all went well, it could all be over in a matter of minutes.

The weather’s good, but I’ll hold off on the Porepunkah team.

The backup helicopter crew awaited his orders, thirty kilometres to the west, near the town of Bright. Calling them now created more bodies. His captain needed no more to deal with in the clean-up. He could make contact with the helicopter crew after their success.

There can’t be any witnesses.

When the captain dispatched and buried the SRP commando team he needed to finish the job.

I’ll bury you in the same hole as the men you murdered … No-one will find the graves, but it hardly mattered if they did. Soon, I’ll be unassailable; I’ll own every soul on this planet.

_____________

As the object smashed into Tom’s face, flashes of light burst into his mind and explosions of pain reverberated around his skull; the force of the object, driving him headfirst into the waiting mud.

All went black.

T
om heard the question and understood its urgency, but the words seemed to be for someone else.

“Tom. Are you alright?”

He felt a hand grasp his shoulder and shake him; the action rousing him from his stupor.

“Noah?”

A face started to take shape, like a reflection in the dying ripples of a pond.

“What the hell happened?”

“You got yourself knocked out, Tom. You had a run-in with my elbow.”

“Tom … Tom …?”

Isobel ran and fell to her knees beside him and Noah moved away.

“You’re alive.”

Tom felt her take his hand and squeeze it. She leant forward and kissed him. Her lips wet with rain, saliva and tears.

“You scared me. I thought you were gone. I don’t want you to be gone.”

Tom sat up and she helped him rest his back against the trunk of a tree. He felt dazed, fearful and elated all at the same time.

She knelt beside him, her hand still in his; her intense gaze still beyond his understanding.

“What are you doing, Izzi? I thought …”

“Don’t.”

She put her forefinger to his lips.

“Please. Don’t say anything.”

She began to stroke his face with the tips of her fingers.

“Just so you know, Tom; if you die, I’ll be really pissed off.”

Tom stretched out his arm and pulled her closer to him. He felt her tiny body stiffen and then relax. He tried to return the softness of her kiss, but their lips came together with passion.

What now …?

Isobel broke away and glared at him without any semblance of a smile.

“I mean it, Tom.”

“Yeah … Alright. I won’t die; for a while at any rate. I promise.”

In the faint light he saw the truth in her expression; she believed in the inevitability of their death.

“Tom. You’re wanted.”

He spotted a dark shape waving at him from amongst the shadows.

He patted Isobel on the shoulder and moved towards Noah on his hands and knees. Dizziness forced him to stop, but after a few seconds of stillness, he set off again.

As he approached the spot where Noah stooped, he began to recognise the limp and bloodied figure lying beside him.

Uta …? The gun … I remember.

“We should be dead.”

Noah screwed up his face and brought a finger to his lips.

“Not so loud, Tom. We’ve been under attack. While you were out of it, the SRP hit our position from higher up the trail.”

Tom flinched. He couldn’t believe it. The corpse began to shudder and cough.

“Don’t gawk at me, Fox. It should be you lying here.”

Tom started to rise.

“No, Tom.”

Noah pulled him back to the ground.

“That’s how she copped it. She backed into the moonlight and the SRP shot her. So keep your head down and stay in the shadows.”

The contrast between the moonlit, open ground and the deep shadows made it difficult for the enemy to see them. As Noah crawled away towards Isobel, Tom looked back at Uta; he could feel her staring at him.

You’re a pitiless murderer.

He could see dark blotches on her clothing and more bloodied gashes on her face. It looked fatal.

“Your wound, it hurts?”

“Of course it hurts.”

Tom wondered about the hurt that Julius, Petra and Luther must have endured.

“Good.”

He could gather no sympathy in his heart for this woman; his feelings of pity gone.

“It’s the devil for me, Fox.”

“You’re a murderer. That’s where you belong. You deserve hell.”

“And you don’t? What do you think you’re going to do with me? Carry me down the mountain and nurse me back to health.”

“We’ll have to leave you here. There’s no other choice.”

“In about two minutes your precious Noah, is going to come back and blow my brains all over the place and you’ll get to watch.”

Tom didn’t know what to say. The thought of such a thing made him feel ill, even if the hideous cow deserved it.

He heard a scraping sound behind him. Right on cue, Noah began crawling back towards them.

“Tom, get ready. We’re moving out fast. We’ll have to leave her, I’m afraid.”

Tom let out a long, slow sigh.

“It doesn’t matter. Vogel will do what you haven’t got the stomach for.”

“Save your crap for him then.”

Tom felt Noah pull on his arm.

“Leave her now, Tom. We have to go.”

Noah led the few remaining members of the G11 troop from the clearing. They bent low, staying in the shadows.

“No.”

Tom stopped and Isobel jerked at the end of his arm; his thought so consuming that he forgot to let go of her.

“Noah, stop. I’ve got to go back.”

He held out his hand.

“Give me Uta’s weapon. It needs to be fired one last time.”

“No, Tom. Ending it quickly is a noble gesture, but she doesn’t deserve it. If you go back, it might cost you your life.”

Tom nodded towards the weapon with determination.

“I have to go back. That’s all there is about it.”

Isobel grabbed at his coat and pulled him towards her.

“Tom. No. It’s murder.”

Tom kept his eye contact with Noah. The big man shook his head and sighed, but he handed over the weapon. Without another word, Tom turned and hurried back to Uta’s side.

“Hey, what’s this? You suddenly grown balls, Fox?”

“Shut it, Uta.”

“Come on brave boy, get on with it.”

“Just shut up and listen. If we leave now, Vogel will kill you, but if I left you this gun …?”

“You want me to watch your back. Ha. That’s funny. What do I get for saving your scrawny backside?”

“Revenge. I know you hate Vogel.”

“What makes you think I won’t kill you, when you hand me that spitter?”

“Maybe it’s because you like me.”

Tom smiled and nodded at a spot on the ground, not far from her.

“Or, because I’m going to put it just out of your reach and Noah will blow your head off, if you try to retrieve it too quickly.”