Free Blood Prize by Ken Grace Page B

her head in disgust as she looked up at the large clock on the wall. Eleven thirty. Three tedious hours and not a single outcome achieved.
    This is a nightmare.
    How could she find any order in the chaotic mess of filing scattered about the office?
    “What’s that …?”
    The sound of metal clanging against metal made her flinch. She stopped filing and sat still; suspending her breathing so she could hear more clearly.
    It’s just your stupid imagination.
    Isobel thought she saw movement out on the factory floor. Without thinking, she crawled over and pulled herself into a kneeling position behind her desk.
    Then she noticed a column of uniformed men making their way through the factory floor, towards her office.
    Oh God … They’ve broken in.
    She watched from behind her desk as the men spread out and checked the staff kitchen and laundry area.
    They’ve nearly reached the stairwell. I’ve got no way out.
    Isobel made a decision.
    She took a deep breath, raised herself into a standing position and left the office to face the threat.
    She stood in front of the men with legs apart and hands on hips. Despite her bravado, Isobel’s body trembled and she couldn’t stop the quiver in her speech.
    “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
    Isobel cringed and took a step backwards, as a slovenly looking man stepped forward; his belly and shirttails hung out of his cheap brown suit.
    “Hey, look at this yappy little poodle. Maybe I should tie her up and give her a bone.”
    He grinned back at his men and reached out towards Isobel.
    “Don’t touch me.”
    She slapped his hand away without thinking and watched as his face flushed red with anger.
    “Take her and hold her still.”
    Isobel fought, but with little effect. The men seemed to enjoy their power over her.
    “Stop. Let me go. I’ve called the police. They’ll be here any minute.”
    The group’s leader reached around and grasped her ponytail, jerking her head back until her chin pointed towards the ceiling. He moved in close and brushed his lips against her cheek, using his free hand to stroke her face.
    “We are the police, little love. We’re the SRP and we want answers.”
    The men on either side of her loosened their grip and she pulled away from them.
    “Take what you want and leave me alone.”
    “Does that include you, sweetheart?”
    She sneered at him. She felt like throwing up.
    “Me? I don’t think so. Why don’t you just piss off?”
    The leader scowled. He looked about to strike her.
    “Just remember what happened to your father.”
    He nodded and smiled at his men.
    “I’m going to give you the same chance, so let’s be smart.”
    Isobel’s shoulders drooped and she felt tears running down her cheeks.
    “Tom Fox has shown up, but you already know that, don’t you?”
    He reached over and grabbed her face between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look into his eyes.
    “Your father left you information didn’t he?”
    He pulled her to him and kissed her limp mouth. To break his grip, Isobel dropped towards the floor and he released her.
    “Listen to me now, sweetheart. When Fox makes contact, I want the information his father left for him. He’ll know what I mean. I’ll be back here next Sunday. If you don’t show, I’ll find you … and you’ll pay in other ways. Got it?”
    He pulled her from the floor by the hair and leant forward; his lips approaching hers; confident of her capitulation, but she slapped him across the right side of his face.
    “You skinny little …”
    He glowered with anger.
    Isobel saw him move, but didn’t have time to react. His right hand made contact; the slap knocking her off her feet and onto the concrete floor.
    “You’ve got until Sunday. Then I’ll be back.”

Chapter Thirteen
    T he G11 team split into three separate units; Tom, Noah and Petra in the first, Julius and Luther in the second, and Uta and Surat in the last. Noah made sure they travelled with different itineraries, to