Seven Ancient Wonders

critically. Personally, I believe he just enjoyed studying ancient history and archaeology more.

'In any case, things started to go downhill when Jack's superiors sent him to a series of multinational special forces exercises at Coronado in 1990—exercises hosted by the Americans at their SEAL base, where they invited crack teams from all their allies to partake in high-end wargames. It's a huge opportunity for smaller nations, so the Australians sent West. In 1990, the exercises were hosted by none other than Marshall Judah, who instantly saw Jack's potential.

'But something happened at Coronado that I don't know about fully. Jack was injured in a helicopter accident and lay unconscious in the base hospital for four days. The four missing days of Jack West's life. When he woke up, he was sent back home, no serious damage done, and after a few months, he was back on active duty—just in time for Desert Storm in 1991.

'Jack West was one of the first men on the ground in Iraq in

1991, blowing up communications towers. After two weeks, however, he found himself serving under Judah. Seems Judah had personally asked the Pentagon to request that Jack be reassigned to him. Australia—ever loyal to the Americans—complied.

'And so Jack West Jr made his name in Desert Storm. Did some incredible things deep behind enemy lines, including that miraculous escape from the SCUD base in Basra—where, it should be said, Judah and the Americans had left him for dead.

'But when it was all over and he was back home, he walked into the office of his commanding officer, Lieutenant General Peter Cosgrove, and informed him that he would not be renewing his contract with the Regiment.

'Now Cosgrove and I have known each other for a long time. He's a very clever fellow and, through me, he was aware of this upcoming mission and he thought fast, and came up with a way of keeping West happy but also keeping him in the fold: he assigned West to me, as part of a long-term open-ended mission, to take part in archaeological research connected to the discovery of the Capstone.

'That was how West and I came to work together again. That was how we came to be the ones who found the scrolls from the Alexandria Library and, ultimately, Lily and her ill-fated mother. And that's why West is here on this mission.'

After discussing a few more unrelated topics, Zoe left.

Wizard returned to his work ... at which moment, he seemed to remember that Lily was still in the corner, behind the boxes. He turned to face her.

'Why, little one, I'd clean forgotten you were here. You've been as quiet as a mouse over there. I don't know if you heard any of that, but if you did, excellent. It's important that you know about our friend, Huntsman, because he's a good fellow, a very good fellow. And although he doesn't say it, he's incredibly fond of you—in fact, he has been since the moment he first held you in his arms inside that volcano. He cares about you more than anything else in the world.'

That had been a big learning day for Lily.

Infinitely more fun, however, was the day she learned about the origins of West's plane.

The Halicarnassus had long been a source of curiosity to her. From the moment she'd been old enough to comprehend jumbo jets—and how much they cost—it struck her as exceedingly odd that one man could own his very own 747.

'Where did you get your plane?' she asked him at breakfast once.

Others around the table at the time suppressed laughs: Zoe, Stretch and Wizard.

West actually looked a little sheepish. 'Don't tell anyone, but I stole it.'

'You stole it? You stole an entire aeroplane! Isn't it wrong to steal?'

'Yes, it is wrong,' Zoe said. 'But Huntsman stole the Halicarnassus from a very bad man.'

'Who?'

'A man by the name of Saddam Hussein,' Wizard said. 'The former president of Iraq, a very horrible individual. Huntsman stole it from him back in 1991.'

'Why did you steal Mr Hussein's plane?' Lily asked.

West paused before answering, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

'I was near a place called Basra, and I was in a lot of trouble. And Mr Hussein's plane was the only way for me to get out alive. He kept it there in case it ever became necessary for him to escape his country.' West winked. 'I also knew that he had a lot of other planes scattered all over Iraq for the very same purpose, so I didn't think he'd miss this one.'

'Why do you call it the Halicarnassus} Is it named after the Mausoleum that was at Halicarnassus?'

West smiled at her easy grasp of the ancient names. 'I'm not sure, but I think it is. Mr Hussein called it the Halicarnassus and I just kept the name because I liked it. I'm not sure why he called it that, but Mr Hussein was a guy who liked to think he was a great

Persian ruler, like Mausolus or Nebuchadnezzar. Only he wasn't like them at all. He was just a big bully.'

West turned to Wizard. 'Hey, speaking of the Halicarnassus, that reminds me: How is the refit going? Have you attached those Mark 3 retrogrades yet?'

'Almost done,' Wizard answered. 'We've got her weight down by a third, and all eight external retrograde thrusters have been attached and are testing well. As for the Mark 3s, they fit the 747's existing engines beautifully—the balance on the Boeing is really quite exceptional, great for VTOL, if you have the fuel. Sky Monster and I will be doing some testing this Saturday, so wear your earplugs.'

'Will do. Keep me informed.'

Lily didn't know what they were talking about.

Oh, and Lily's interest in ballet continued.

She put on many shows—shows that took place on a little stage with drawable curtains. Each performance was greeted with great applause by the whole team.

At one such show, Lily announced with a flourish that she would attempt to hold a difficult tip-toe pose for a whole minute. She made it to 45 seconds, and was bitterly disappointed.

Everyone applauded anyway.

As families do.

THE BLACK PRIEST OF KABUL

AIRSPACE ABOVE THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

17 MARCH,2006

3 DAYS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL OF TARTARUS

Twelve hours after its brazen assault on Guantanamo Bay, after lying low in a remote Jamaican Air Force hangar outside Kingston— where it had picked up Wizard, Lily and Horus—the Halicarnassus, now refuelled and replenished, soared once again over the Atlantic, heading back toward Europe and Africa, back into the fray.

Once again, everyone sat in the main cabin, arrayed in a wide circle.

The focal point of the circle: Mullah Mustapha Zaeed, the Black Priest of Kabul.

Immediately after their escape from Guantanamo Bay, West had grabbed an AXS-9 digital spectrum analyser—a wand-like device used to sweep a room for bugs—and waved it over Zaeed's body.

Sure enough, at the terrorist's neck, the wand had gone berserk, beeping wildly, indicating that there was indeed a GPS locater microchip buried under Zaeed's skin.

Surgery wasn't necessary. West was able to neutralise the chip with an electromagnetic pulse from a disabling gun, turning the locater chip into a dead piece of plastic.

And so now Zaeed was here, in the main cabin—and while everyone gazed warily at the terrorist, he just stared straight at Lily.

He eyed her the way a hyena eyes an injured baby deer—with hunger, desire, and a kind of stunned disbelief that such a delightful meal could be right here in front of him.

His general appearance was frightening—despite the fact that he had been bathed and was now dressed in clean clothes.

With his shaved head, sharp stubble-covered chin, hollow eyes and wiry physique, he seemed more ghost