Blood Prize (25 page)

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At 0750 Eastern Standard Time, an ultra-wide-bodied Qantas 949 – 500 landed at Melbourne’s Tullamarine International Airport, en route from Rome. At almost the same time, a vehicle carrying two men and a doctor, made its way towards the bottom of the Bungalow Spur, near the township of Harrietville in northern Victoria.

The driver; an old SRP soldier with real fighting experience, gasped and pulled back in his seat, when the gore-covered creature limped out onto the track in front of them.

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At 0810 the beautiful, auburn-haired woman left her commercial Qantas flight and entered the customs area of the airport.

She strutted and smiled; all style and elegance, accepting her preferential treatment as a matter of course. Within minutes of her turning on her communicator, she began receiving information from a source inside Australian Air-force flight-control. By the time a smitten assistant ushered her through customs, she already knew details of an Assembly company jet landing at Albury Airport with no further flight plan.

Her own chartered aircraft waited for her, not far from where she stood, as did the small force of loyal, fanatical men awaiting her command. Like her, they belonged to an extremely determined cardinal.

E
ven from his hiding place behind the aircraft maintenance shed, Tom could see Isobel shaking; her earlier bravado completely gone. If the need arose, he doubted her ability to aim and hit something as large as the jet, even from point blank range.

Tom understood her predicament. She needed to harass the priest, but for this assignment, she depended on him. Tom could almost feel her tension as they shuffled towards the jet; exposed under tarmac security lighting.

He could hear the strain in her heavy breathing thanks to a communicator they left switched on, in her coat pocket. He could also clearly hear all conversation, particularly the deep confidant voice of the priest. For a clergyman, Tom felt surprised that he seemed so relaxed.

“Are you alright, young lady?”

Isobel didn’t look at the priest when she spoke. Tom thought her voice sounded harsh and bitter.

“I’m perfectly fine … Thank you.”

“Except for the shaking?”

“I’m just cold. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“We don’t know what information they’ve received since I’ve been gone, so rub yourself. Show them you’re cold and not nervous. Remember, no eye contact with the crew and get your chin in the air. You want them to think you’re important. So nasty up. Look arrogant.”

The priest banged his fist on the airframe and called out until he woke the captain. He pretended to be upset with the man and kept up the charade, so the pilot remained off balance.

“Get my friend here a blanket will you? And wake up the co-pilot. I want to be underway as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir … Father, but the co-pilot isn’t here, he’s … There’s a woman he met in town …”

“There will be two others joining us. Ah, here they are now.”

Tom stepped up into the aircraft, followed by Noah.

“Hello. My name is Tom Fox. I need a jet … so I’m taking yours.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t do that.”

The priest smiled at the pilot and put his index finger up to his lips for silence.

“I think you’ll find he already has. Now, please remain calm and forget about the Assembly’s secret alarm. Having to shoot you this early into our journey would be quite a waste, don’t you think?”

Father Dom escorted the surprised pilot to the secret compartments in the rear of the jet, which housed the aircraft’s extensive range of weaponry. Most countries forbade such equipment, so they remained well hidden. Once the priest received all of the keys, he marched the pilot back to where the others waited.

“This is Noah. He’ll be your commander for this flight and will fill in for your missing co-pilot. Depart from his instructions even a little and you’ll die. He’s an experienced air-force pilot, so your death won’t affect us in any way. I don’t want a situation where I have to shoot you. Are you clear on this so far?”

“Yes.”

“If you do the right thing, you’ll be treated with courtesy and you’ll be left unharmed. At worst, it’ll be a great story for the grandkids.”

The captain shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve seen what happens to heroes in this organisation. I’ll do exactly, as you say.”

“Good, now if we could be airborne as quickly as possible. Don’t provide a flight plan or speak to the tower. Fly us directly north and avoid the main flight paths. Our destination will be revealed to you later.”

The remainder of the G11’s made themselves as comfortable as possible. Noah instructed the pilot from the co-pilot’s seat, while the priest chose a place in the lounge area of the fuselage, in the row directly opposite Tom and Isobel.

“You did well, young lady. You’re very brave, I think.”

“Say what you want, I still don’t trust you.”

“Alright, it seems I owe you an explanation. I would ask you both to put aside your former judgements and listen to what I have to say. I assure you that everything will be made known to you.”

Tom listened to the priest, but also maintained a secondary focus on the sound of the engines, as the aircraft began to move away towards the main runway. The powerful thrusting roar felt like pure relief, even though they taxied slowly.

He decided to give the priest one chance to tell the truth.

“If anything you say deviates even a tiny bit from what we already know, then you’ll be treated as a prisoner from then on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, fair enough. Before I get started I must be clear here and now about our current position. From the moment we enter the air, we will be tracked and hunted. If it seemed bad before, then it’s about to get even worse. This is a one-way ticket, I’m afraid. Only the Prize will save us and perhaps not even that. I’m sorry.”

Tom shivered. He looked over at Isobel and she stared back with an expression he couldn’t interpret. It became very quiet, but the strange tension drained away the moment the priest began to chuckle.

“Tom, did you know that you received your name from Isobel’s father, Tom Kite?”

Tom couldn’t answer. The priest’s happiness defied the dread of the previous moments.

“My idea actually. I hope you like it.”

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Despite Vogel’s best attempts at intimidation, the pilot could not make the helicopter gain any further speed. Frederick found it difficult to remain calm. He couldn’t afford any more setbacks. They needed to catch up with Fox as quickly as possible.

Assess …Think … Find the way.

He had no men stationed at Albury and using the local authorities provided too much risk. He needed to take Fox at the airport and if possible, capture the Assembly’s aircraft, which he could utilise to go after the Prize with his captive.

Vogel clasped his hands together with renewed hope. He could see the border twin-city ahead. He wiped his window with his sleeve and peered out into the morning light.

He couldn’t see anything, initially. The glare and lack of sleep affected his eyes, flooding his vision with tears. His eyelids rasped with grit. He rubbed away some of the moisture and caked rheum and ventured another look.

Laid out below he could see the city of Wodonga, which spread its suburbia over most of the river basin and into the surrounding foothills.

Frederick began jabbing his index finger in the direction he wished to go.

“Ignore the damn flight path and take the fastest route
.
Go straight over the city towards the airport.”

They crossed the border into New South Wales and the pilot banked their craft steeply to the east, directly over the city of Albury. Below them, Frederick identified the Murray River slithering its way into the west, dividing the two states and cutting the cities in two.

“The airport’s dead ahead, sir. What do you want me to do when we get there?”

“I want you to make sure that the jet doesn’t take off. Use your initiative. Land in front of it, so they can’t get going, if you have to.”

The captain pulled hard on Vogel’s shoulder.

“Sir … Look. There’s a jet taxiing onto the runway.”

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Noah’s voice crackled out over the aircraft’s intercom and the priest stopped talking.

“Father Dom, to the cockpit now. Everyone else buckle up. We have visitors.”

Noah turned and pointed, as the priest arrived.

“We’ve got a helicopter approaching at high speed and he’s ignoring the flight-control tower. It’s got to be Vogel.”

The priest didn’t believe they could take off in time. He fumbled with his seatbelt as the pilot swung the jet around onto the main runway. Half way through their turn the engines started to scream with thrust and the Cessna accelerated; the airframe rocking and twisting as they straightened.

Dominico could only just hear Noah call out to the pilot.

“Get her up. Quickly. Vogel will try to shoot out our tyres. If we’re already in the air, he has no choice. He’ll let us go.”

“No. No. I know that man. He’ll bring us down. We’ll be killed.”

“Do as you’re told and pull her up. This cargo’s precious to him. He won’t risk anything once we’re airborne.”

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Vogel turned in his seat so he could make eye contact with the captain; his menacing facial expression conveying an implied threat: don’t fail or else …

“Get your men ready. We have to take out their tyres. We’ll only get one chance, so don’t mess it up.”

Frederick attempted to urge the pilot and the helicopter forward with sheer willpower. He felt sure they could make it in time.

Faster. Go faster. We have to cut them off.

The helicopter flew in low and at high speed. They came at the jet from the rear and at the last moment, the pilot jerked the helicopter hard to starboard.

“Now, captain. Make the shot.”

Only metres above the sleek wing of the Cessna Peregrine 8000, an SRP soldier slid back the helicopter’s side door, while another prepared to fire.

“No. What’re you doing …? What’s wrong?”

Vogel couldn’t believe it. The soldier put down his weapon and waved back into the cabin as he spoke to the pilot through the intercom.

“I haven’t got a shot. I can’t see the wheels. They’re under the damn wing.”

Vogel began waving both of his arms in agitation as he yelled instructions to the pilot.

“Go further forward. Quickly, man. They’re nearly up. We need a shot at the front wheel.”

The pilot threw the helicopter further to starboard, as he tried to judge the jet’s increasing speed. He made it past the aircraft’s nose and pulled in very close; allowing a clear strike at the tyre.

Vogel turned in his seat and looked back through the fuselage. One soldier stood strapped to the open door, while another squatted behind a machine gun on a tripod. Each man took careful aim and waited.

This isn’t working.

They still didn’t have a shot and they faced the danger of being struck by the wing of the accelerating Cessna.

“Shoot. For God’s sake start firing.”

No … Damn it. It’s too late.

The nose of the Cessna rose from the tarmac and the helicopter swerved away to avoid being hit.

“No. No. No. Stop. Don’t shoot … Not now.”

Vogel unbuckled himself, jumped from his seat and rushed back towards the gunmen.

“No.”

As he ran, a blast of gunfire echoed through the helicopter’s fuselage and he saw pieces of the jet’s front tyre explode into the air.

T
he secretary knocked once and entered the aircraft’s makeshift office unbidden. He stood at attention, while Wolf ignored him.

“Yes, what is it?”

Bruno Wolf required constant information, which he insisted the man carried to him personally, but he also hated to be interrupted, with his entire being focused on the hunt.

“The Albury police have located the helicopter, sir. They found it in a public reserve near the airport.”

“And the occupants?”

“They found no-one, sir, but …”

“Yes … what?”

“An Assembly jet just flew out of Albury airport.”

“You’re sure of this?”

“Yes, sir. The pilot didn’t provide a flight plan and refused all communication with the tower, but there’s more …’

“For goodness sake, get on with it man. Give me the full report, damn you.”

“Yes, sir. A helicopter attacked the aircraft, a helicopter chartered by Frederick Vogel. The police have called in the Royal Australian Air Force for assistance and they’re tracking each of the aircraft.”

The Darkman ordered his secretary back to the cockpit to personally monitor every bit of incoming information.

Damn it. What the hell are you doing, Vogel?

The chairman received the same data as he did. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he received a call from Rome.

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Vogel carried a mobile state-of-the-art frequency scanner that revealed his enemies’ movements.

Thankyou heaven, thankyou hell. I’d be flying blind without this thing.

He could listen to the chatter between the Australian Federal and State Police forces as well as the Royal Australian Air force, simultaneously, on separate band widths. With only a little more difficulty, he could pry into the International Special Religious Police Command Centre and listen to most of their dealings.

The more secret communications between the Assembly hierarchy and their vassals, required weighing known actions against commands to ascertain any differences in their strategies.

They must think I’ve lost after the escape of the jet … They’ll think I’ve made a run for it.

Utilising his extensive field experience and his intimate knowledge of Assembly and SRP tactics, he could create his own strategies around each changing enemy scenario.

The fools. They’ll think that I’m isolated and desperate … Good.

He could use this to his advantage; allowing them to gauge his moves, based on their assumptions regarding his past performances and tactics.

They’ll assume on this basis, which leaves me plenty of room to manoeuvre.

He felt much stronger now and in control. He wondered how he could have allowed his nerves to overwhelm him. He couldn’t remember ever being fearful. He lived a life of danger. Killing meant nothing to him.

I made it to the top because I did what sickened everybody else.

Body counts didn’t matter. Even having to dispatch women and children didn’t bother him.

The truth is that only one life matters and that’s mine.

His experiences in the field made him question whether a supreme being ever existed and after many years of slaughter and killing for a living, the hideousness of life answered the question for him.

It’s a load of rubbish. I’m the only God in my world.

He ruled his own universe; esteeming himself based on his record of successful achievement and attained positions, and the ruthless cunning he utilised to hold on to them.

I want real power … I want them to bow down to me.

The Assembly provided the perfect staircase for the realisation of his dream, but with each achievement he wanted more.

I want absolute power; God-like power.

And with the Prize, he could have it. Once begun, he knew he couldn’t turn back. The very moment he threw himself into this Fox affair, two ultimate possibilities presented themselves: total success over the Assembly and with it control over everybody’s world, or oblivion in the form of a nasty death.

“Take this thing down as low as it’ll go and set a course west of Wagga Wagga. I have an officer at the barracks there. He’ll be waiting for us.”

“What do we do about the police?”

“You have a lot to learn, captain. The Assembly won’t directly employ any local authorities. There are too many negative possibilities.”

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“Yes, I agree, Mr Wolf. It’s imperative that we call down the Australian authorities; especially their air force. We don’t want any interference. We have to contain this situation and work it to our own advantage.”

“And the woman, Mr Chairman?”

“It can’t be a coincidence. Do we know who she is?”

“No. She presented a false passport. We’re working on it.”

“Watch this situation closely, Bruno. I don’t like not knowing my enemies. Your plan appears to be seamless, which is just as well. I will accept only success. No mistakes, is that clear?”

“I have men in all of the major airports and there’s only so many places that they can land. Our net is closing.”