Seven Ancient Wonders

than man, a walking skeleton. Three years of solitary confinement at Camp Delta will do that to you.

And in the clear light of the cabin, a peculiar feature became apparent: half of Zaeed's left ear, the whole bottom half, the entire lobe, had been cut off.

The spell broke, and he scanned West's multinational team.

'Mmm. How interesting, how very interesting,' he said. 'The mice are roaring. Taking on the two lions of the world: Europe and America.'

He looked at Wizard. 'I see Canada. And Ireland,' he nodded at Zoe. 'Fellow scholars of the ancient texts.'

His voice went low as he saw Stretch: 'And I see Israel. Why Katsa Cohen, the master sniper, nice to see you again. The last time we met was in Kandahar, at 2,000 yards. And it was a rare miss on your part.'

Stretch scowled, showing his extreme distaste for Mustapha Zaeed.

Zaeed pointed at his half-ear. 'You were a few inches wide.'

'I won't be next time,' Stretch growled.

'Now, now, Katsa. I am your guest, and a valuable one at that. After all the trouble you went to to get me, Jew'—Zaeed's eyes turned to ice—'you should be more courteous.'

He spun, aiming his wild eyes at Pooh Bear.

'Ah, a good Muslim. You are Sheik Anzar Abbas's son, are you not? The great Captain Rashid Abbas, commander of the elite UAE First Commando Regiment. . .'

'I fear I am not,' Pooh Bear replied. 'Rashid Abbas is my brother. I am Zahir Abbas, a humble sergeant and the Sheik's second son.'

'The Sheik is a noble servant of Allah,' Zaeed bowed respectfully. 'I honour you as his kin.'

Finally, Zaeed rounded on West, who sat with Horus on his shoulder.

'And you. John West Jr. Captain John West Jr of the Australian SAS. The Huntsman. A name that floats around the Middle East like a wraith. Your feats have become the stuff of legend: your escape from Basra angered Hussein for years, you know. Till the day he was captured, he wanted that plane back. But then you vanished for a very long time. Disappeared off the face of the Earth. Most unusual—'

'Enough,' West said. 'The Wonders: Zeus and Artemis. Where are they?'

'Oh, yes, I am sorry. The Wonders. And Tartarus approaches, too. Mmmm. Forgive me, Captain West, but I haven't yet grasped the basis of your belief that I will even want to help you in this cause.'

'The United States of America already has three pieces of the Capstone,' West said simply. 'They are well- equipped and well-informed, and well on their way to securing the entire Capstone. How's that?'

'Good enough,' Zaeed said. 'Who leads the US force? Marshall Judah?'

'Yes.'

'A formidable foe. Clever and cunning. And murderous. Although did you know he has a curious weakness?'

'What?'

'A fear of heights. But I digress. Brief me on your progress so far. You are using the Callimachus Text, I presume. Which means you found the Colossus first? Was it the rightmost pendant?'

'Yes ... it was,' West said, surprised.

'Mmmm. And then came the Pieces from the Pharos and the Mausoleum, no?'

'How did you know they'd be found in that order?'

Zaeed sighed dramatically. 'This is elementary. The Callimachus Text is written in the Word of Thoth—a most ancient and complicated language. The language itself contains within it seven levels

of increasing complexity, dialects, if you will. Your young reader here'—he indicated Lily—'can only read one entry at a time, can't she? This is because each entry in the Callimachus Text is written in an increasingly difficult dialect of the Word of Thoth. The Colossus entry is written in 'Thoth I', the easiest dialect of the Word of Thoth. The Pharos Piece is in 'Thoth II', slightly harder. The Oracle will ultimately be able to read all seven dialects, but not instantly.'

'You can read the Word of Thoth?' Wizard asked, incredulous.

'I can decipher its first four dialects, yes.'

'But how?'

'I taught myself,' Zaeed said. 'With discipline and patience. Oh, I forget, in the decadent West, discipline and patience are no longer talents that warrant respect.'

'How did you know the Mausoleum Piece would be entombed with the Pharos Piece?' Zoe asked.

'I have spent the last 30 years acquiring every scroll, carving and document relating to the Benben that I could find. Some are famous, like the Callimachus Text, of which I possess a 9th-century copy, others less so—written by humble men who merely wanted to record the marvellous deeds they had done, like constructing great roofs over entire ocean inlets, or carrying marble pillars into the hearts of dormant volcanoes. My collection is vast.'

'The Callimachus Text is unhelpful on the Zeus and Artemis Pieces,' West said. 'Zeus is lost. And we believe Artemis is somewhere in St Peter's Basilica, but we don't know exactly where. Do you know where they are?'

Zaeed's eyes narrowed. 'The passage of time and many wars have scattered these two Pieces, but yes, I believe I do know their resting places.'

Pooh Bear leaned forwards. 'If you know so much, why have you yourself not gone in search of these Pieces before?'

i would have if only I had been able, my Muslim friend,' Zaeed said smoothly. 'But I fear I was not as nimble then as I am now.' As he said this, Zaeed rolled up his right pants-leg, to reveal hideous scarring and fire-melted skin on his lower leg.

'A Soviet fragmentation grenade in Afghanistan in 1987. For many years, I was unable to even walk on it. And a man with limited movement is useless in trap-laden quarries and inlets. While I retrained my withered muscles throughout the '90s, building them up again, I researched all I could about the Capstone. I was actually grooming a team of mujahideen in Afghanistan at the time of the attacks on New York and Washington DC to hunt for the Pieces. But then the September 11 attacks happened and Afghanistan was plunged into chaos. And I was captured by the Americans. But now my leg is strong.'

'The Zeus and Artemis Pieces,' West repeated. 'Where are they?'

Zaeed grinned a sly smile. 'Interestingly, these two Pieces that defy your search are neither hidden nor concealed. Both exist in plain sight—if only one knows where to look. The Artemis Piece, yes, it is indeed in St Peter's in Rome, in no less than the most holy place of the Cult of Amun-Ra. As for the Zeus Piece . . .'

Zaeed leaned back in his chair, recited the appropriate verse from memory:

'No thunderbolts did he wield, no wrath did he bear, No victory did he achieve.

Indeed, it was only the Victory in his right hand that made him

great,

Oh, winged woman, whither didst thou fly?'

Zaeed looked at West. 'It was only the Victory in his right hand that made him great.'

West followed his line of reasoning. 'The Statue of Zeus at Olympia was said to hold in his right hand a smaller statue of 'Winged Victory': the Greek goddess Nike, a woman with wings coming out of her back, like an angel or the figurehead on the prow of a ship. And since the figure of Zeus was so immense, its statue of Winged Victory was said to be life-sized.'

Zaeed said, 'Correct. And if it was Victory who made him great, we must look not for Zeus's statue, but the statue of Victory. Thus the verse asks: whither did she fly?

'Now, as I'm sure you know, many life-sized statues of Winged Victory have been found around the ancient Greek world. But after a comprehensive study of the works of Pheidias, the sculptor of the statue of Zeus, I have found only one statue of Victory that possesses the features of his superior level of artistry: fine lines, perfect form, and the rare ability to reproduce the appearance of wet garments in marble.