'Mossad knows what my Aunt Judy eats for breakfast.' West checked his watch. 'We're eight minutes out. Time to fly.'
Moments later, the rear ramp of the 747 rumbled open and they leapt out of it together, disappearing into the night sky.
Inside the Halicarnassus itself, every battle station was manned.
Big Ears, Fuzzy, Pooh Bear and Stretch all sat in the great black plane's four gun turrets—Big Ears and Pooh Bear on the wing-mounted turrets, Fuzzy on the underbelly, and Stretch up on the 747's domed roof.
Their six-barrelled miniguns were currently loaded with super-lethal 7.62 mm armour-piercing tracer rounds—but they had special instructions from West as to what to use later, when the battle got really hot.
Wizard, Lily and Horus had been dropped off at a safe island location nearby—it was far too dangerous to bring Lily on this mission.
The Halicarnassus thundered through the night sky.
It flew without lights, so it was little more than a dark shadow against the clouds; and it had long ago been stripped of its transponder—so it gave off no electronic signature.
And its black radar-absorbent paint, the same as that used on the B-2 Stealth Bomber, deflected any radar scans the Americans projected from Gitmo.
It was a ghost.
A ghost the American forces at Guantanamo Bay would not know existed until it was right on top of them.
In the end, it was a pair of night sentries who saw it—or, rather, heard it—first. They were posted on one of the most far-flung sentry towers on the base, on a remote headland overlooking the ocean about two klicks east of Windward Point, near the Cuzco Hills.
They saw the huge black shadow come roaring in low over their heads, zooming in from the south, from over the Caribbean Sea. They called it in immediately.
And so the alert went out, and the 3,000-strong American force at Guantanamo Bay declared war on Jack West Jr and his team.
The Halicarnassus shot low over the Cuzco Hills, bearing down on the rumpled moonlit landscape of Guantanamo Bay. It was 3:45 in the morning.
Then the big 747 banked sharply to the left and disappeared below the treeline . . .
. . . landing right on the fairway of the 16th hole of the Guantanamo Bay Golf Course, its winglights blazing to life as it did so!
The plane's massive tyres ripped up the pristine fairway, churning up great ragged chunks of grass, its glaring winglights lighting the way. It romped down the 16th hole, rumbled onto the 17th.
The stand of bushes separating the 17th from the 18th hole loomed in front of it and Sky Monster just smashed straight through them, crunching over them in an instant, and the rampaging Halicarnassus rumbled down the 18th fairway.
Klaxons and alarms wailed all over Guantanamo Bay. Flashing lights erupted everywhere.
Marines leapt out of their beds.
Guard-tower sentries scanned the perimeter down the barrels of their M-16s.
Spotlights searched the sky for more aircraft.
The word went out: they were being attacked . . . from the golf course!
Two crack teams of Recon Marines were dispatched to the golf course, while Black Hawk helicopters and a much larger force were assembled to follow up behind them.
And every single jail on the base was instantly placed into lock-down—every gate was double-locked via computer, every guard-post sentry team was doubled.
It was chaos.
Pandemonium.
And in all the chaos and confusion that had followed the Halicarnassus's spectacular landing on the golf course, no-one noticed the two black-winged figures that descended over Gitmo with graceful silent swoops, landing lightly and silently on the flat concrete roof of hut C-12 in Camp 3 of Camp Delta.
West detonated a Semtex charge on the roof of the cinder-block cabin, blasting a hole in it big enough for him to fit through. He jumped down through the hole—
—and landed in darkness on the roof of a cube-shaped wire-mesh cage. A blowtorch made short work of the cage's roof and West leapt down into it—
—to see a skeletal wraith-like figure come rushing out of the darkness at him, arms outstretched!
West pivoted quickly and sent Zaeed thudding into the wall, where he pinioned the terrorist and shone his barrel-mounted flashlight right into the man's eyes.
By the light of the flashlight, Zaeed looked positively scary.
The terrorist's beard and hair had been shaved off, leaving him with a crude stubble on both his angular chin and his scalp. He was thin, malnourished. And his eyes—those eyes—they were hollow, sunken into his skull, accentuating his overall appearance of a living skeleton. They blazed with madness.
'Mustapha Zaeed?'
'Ye-yes . . .'
'My name is West. Jack West Jr. I'm here to offer you a one-time deal. We get you out of here, and you help us find the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and from them, the Golden Capstone of the Great Pyramid. What do you say?'
Any resistance Zaeed still harboured disappeared in an instant at the mention of the Wonders. In his wild eyes, West saw several things at once: recognition, comprehension and naked ravenous ambition.
'I will go with you,' Zaeed said.
'Then let's move—'
'Wait!' Zaeed shouted. 'They implanted a microchip in my neck! A locater! You have to extract it, or they'll know where you've taken me!'
'We'll do it on the plane! Come on, we've got to run!' West called above the sirens. 'Zoe! Rope!'
A rope was hurled into the hut from the hole in the roof, and together West and Mustapha Zaeed scrambled up it, out of the cell.
Over at the golf course, the two teams of Recon Marines arrived to behold the Halicarnassus standing on the ruins of the shed that had once been their clubhouse, illuminating the area for a full 500 yards with a dozen outward-pointed floodlights.
Blinded by the dazzling lights, the Marines spread out around the big black 747, raised their guns—
—just as a withering volley of gunfire erupted from the Halicarnassus's four revolving gun turrets.
The volley of bullets slammed into the Recon Marines, sent them flying backwards through the air, slamming them into trees and vehicles.
But they weren't dead.
The bullets were rubber bullets, like those West and his team had used in the quarry in Sudan.
West's instructions to his team had been simple: you only kill someone who wants to kill you. You never ever kill men who are just doing their job.
And as far as West was concerned, he had no quarrel with the Marine guards at Guantanamo Bay—only with their government and its backers.
The rubber bullets, however, had another effect on the Recon Marines—it made them think this was an exercise, an elaborate surprise in the dead of night designed by their superiors to test their response.
And so they actually became less lethal. They concentrated on surrounding and containing the plane, rather than destroying it.
But then, to their surprise, the big black 747 started moving again, rolling around in a tight circle until it was pointed back up the 18th fairway of the golf course.
Then with its guns still blazing, the big plane's engines fired up. The roar they made was absolutely deafening in the night.
Then the great plane started rumbling back up the fairway, having unloaded not a single trooper, having done—seemingly— absolutely nothing.
But then came the most amazing sight.
Two winged figures came shooting over the treetops from behind the Recon Marines—black-clad figures wearing carbon-fibre wing-sets—chasing after the fleeing 747, firing compressed air thrusters on their backs. They flew in a series of long swoops, like hang-gliders powered by the odd thrust of compressed air.
And as the Marines saw the winged figures more closely, their hearts sank for they now understood that this hadn't been an exercise at all.
For one of the low-flying winged intruders carried a man harnessed to his chest: a shaven-headed man still
dressed in the bright orange coveralls of a Camp 3 detainee.
This was a jailbreak . . .
The two winged figures swooped in low over the right-hand wing of the rolling Halicarnassus, where they landed deftly and ran inside an emergency door which swung shut behind them.
Then the Halicarnassus picked up speed and thundered down the two fairways and just before it hit the woods at the far end, it lifted off, taking to the air.
Three Black Hawk choppers followed for a short while, firing after it in vain, but they could never hope to keep up with the fleeing 747.
A couple of F-15 strike fighters would be dispatched 10 minutes later, but by the time they were in the air and on the right heading, the ghostly 747—defying their radar scans and transponder searches—was gone.
It was last seen heading south, disappearing somewhere over Cuba's nearest neighbour in that direction.
Jamaica.
An hour later, in another part of the world, a digital teleprinter printed out an intercepted radio transmission:
TRANS INTERCEPT:
SAT BT-1009/03.17.06-1399
A40-TEXT TRANSMISSION
FROM: USAF SECURE FREQUENCY, ASWAN MILITARY
AIRFIELD (EGYPT) TO: UNSPECIFIED DESTINATION, MARYLAND (USA)
VOICE 1 (USA): The President is becoming increasingly anxious, Colonel. And his mood was not lifted by a report that just came in from Gitmo: someone broke a terrorist out of Camp Delta, a Saudi named Zaeed who we've discovered has connections with the Capstone project.
VOICE 2 (EGYPT): It was West. He's bold, I'll give him that. He must have hit a snag and decided he needed Zaeed.
VOICE 1 (USA): Does he? Do we need this Zaeed?
VOICE 2 (EGYPT): No. We got all we needed from Mustapha Zaeed while he was under.
[LONG PAUSE]
VOICE 1 (USA): Colonel Judah, should we be nervous? The President has ordered that a draft 'Address to the Nation' be written, concerning the evacuation of the coastal cities, just in case you don't succeed.
VOICE 2 (EGYPT) : Tell him we will succeed. To date, everything has gone according to plan. West is containable at any time we choose, but it's also very useful to have him running around. And the Europeans have acted just as we anticipated. Tell the President to go ahead and write his speech, but he'll never have to use it. Judah, out.
VICTORIA STATION SOUTHERN KENYA 2003-2006
Throughout the team's time in Kenya, a large glass jar sat on top of the kitchen bench.
It was the 'Swear Jar'. Every time a member of the team was caught swearing or cursing in front of Lily, they had to put a dollar in it.
And since they were soldiers, it was nearly always full. The proceeds of the Swear Jar went toward toys or books or ballet clothes for Lily.
Naturally, since it was she who would ultimately benefit from their indiscretion, Lily loved catching team-members swearing. It became commonplace for any curse heard around the station to be followed by her voice chiming: 'Swear Jar!'
She was also given pocket money in return for doing chores around the farm.
It was West and Wizard's idea. They wanted her upbringing— already highly unusual—to appear, at least to her, as normal as possible. Doing chores with the other team-members—gathering wood with Big Ears; helping Pooh Bear clean his tools; and on a very momentous occasion, feeding Horus for West—made her feel like she was contributing; made her feel like she was part of a family. It also just made her a nice kid.
As she grew older, however, she grew increasingly curious, and she began to learn more about the team around her.
She learned, for example, that Pooh Bear was the second son of the most powerful sheik in the United Arab Emirates.
And that Wizard had once studied to be a Catholic priest but never went through with it.
She also discovered that Zoe had once been reassigned from the armed forces to study archaeology under Wizard at Trinity College, Dublin.
Apparently, Jack West had studied there with her—having also been sent by his home country to learn from the Canadian professor.
West's home country.
Lily was ever curious about Australia. It was indeed a curiosity, full of contradictions. Eighty per cent of its enormous landmass was made up of desert, yet it also possessed supermodern cities like Sydney, famous beaches like Bells and Bondi, and superb natural formations like Uluru and the Great Barrier Reef, which—she discovered—had been named as one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.
Over time, Lily developed more sophisticated questions about Australia, including its place in international relations. Australia only had a population of 20 million people, so despite its physical size, globally speaking it was a small country.
And yet while its military was equally small, one particular aspect of it was world-renowned: Australia was the home of what was widely acknowledged to be the best special forces unit in the world, the SAS—West's former regiment.
Another thing piqued her interest: during the 20th century, Australia had been one of America's closest and most loyal allies. In World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Kuwait, Australia had always been the first country to stand beside the United States.
And yet not now.
This perplexed Lily, so she decided to ask West about it.
One rainy day, she went into his study, and found him working
in darkness and silence (with Horus perched on his chair-back) staring at his computer screen, chewing on a pen, deep in thought.
Lily strolled around his office, idly touching the books on the shelves. She saw his whiteboard with the words '4 missing days of my life—coronado?' still written on it. She also noticed that the sealed glass jar with the rusty-red dirt in it had been removed.
He didn't acknowledge her presence, kept staring at his computer monitor.
She came round behind him, saw the image on his screen. It was a digital photo of some giant hieroglyphics carved into a wall somewhere. Lily translated them quickly in her head:
ENTER THE EMBRACE OF ANUBIS WILLINGLY, AND YOU SHALL
LIVE BEYOND THE COMING OF RA.
ENTER AGAINST YOUR WILL, AND YOUR PEOPLE SHALL RULE FOR
BUT ONE EON, BUT YOU SHALL LIVE NO MORE.
ENTER NOT AT ALL, AND THE WORLD SHALL BE NO MORE.
'What do you reckon?' West asked suddenly, not turning to face her.
Lily froze, put on the spot. 'I ... I don't know . . .'
West swivelled. 'I'm thinking it's about death and the afterlife, in the form of an address from Amun to the Jesus-like character, Horus. "The embrace of Anubis" is death. If Horus accepts his death willingly, he will rise again and confer a benefit on his people. A bit like Christ dying on the cross. But enough of that. What brings you here today, kiddo?'
A vigorous discussion followed about Australian-American relations, about the rise of America as a sole superpower, and the concerns of Australia that its friend was becoming something of a global bully. 'Sometimes a good friend,' West said, 'has to show tough love. It's also much better to get taught a difficult lesson from your friend than from your enemy.'
West then abruptly changed the subject. 'Lily, there's something I have to tell you. When all this comes to a head, if it turns out as I
hope it will, I'm probably going to have to go away for a while—'
'Go away?' Lily said, alarmed.
'Yes. Lie low. Go someplace where no-one can find me. Disappear.'
'Disappear . . .' Lily gulped.
'But I want you to be able to find me, Lily,' West said, smiling. 'Now, I can't tell you where I'm going, but I can point you in the right direction. If you can solve this riddle, you'll find me.'
He handed her a slip of paper, on which was written:
My new home is home to both tigers and crocodiles.
To find it, pay the boatman, take your chances and journey
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell.
There you will find me, protecte
d by a great villain.
'And that, kiddo, is all I'll say. Now scram.' Lily scampered out of the study, gripping the slip of paper. She would pore over West's riddle for months—even going so far as to punch every word of it into Google—trying to figure it out.
She had other questions, however, which were answered.
Such as where West had acquired Horus.
'Horus's former owner was once Huntsman's teacher,' Wizard said, as the two of them sat outside in the brilliant African sunshine.
'He was a nasty man named Marshall Judah. Judah was an American colonel who taught Jack how to be a better soldier at a place called Coronado.
'Judah would walk around the Coronado base with Horus on his shoulder, yelling at the troops. And as an example to them, he would beat Horus if she didn't perform as she had been trained. He would say, "The only way to get obedience is through discipline and brute force!"
'Huntsman didn't like this. Didn't like seeing Judah being so cruel to the falcon. So when West left Coronado, he stole the bird
from her cage in Judah's office. Ever since, Jack has treated Horus with kindness and love, and she returns his affection tenfold.
'Lily, as you grow up, you'll find that some people in this world are not very nice at all. They favour cruelty over kindness, power over sharing, anger over understanding.
'These people think only of themselves. They seek to rule over others, not for others' sakes, but for their own desire for power. Lily, one day you are going to be very powerful—very powerful— and I hope that if you learn nothing else from us here, you learn that the truly great people think of others first and themselves last.
'For an example of this, look no further than Huntsman and Horus. A beaten bird will obey a cruel master out of fear. But a kind master it will die for.'
One day, Lily was helping Wizard organise some of his ancient scrolls.
She loved all his old stuff—the parchments, the tablets. To her, they held within them all the mysteries of ancient faraway times.
On that particular day Wizard was collating everything he had on a series of Egyptian architects all named Imhotep.
Lily noticed some design plans for a quarry-mine in a place called Nubia, with four rising levels and lots of water-driven booby traps. Marked on the plans were descriptions of all the traps, and in the case of a set of concealed stepping-stones, five numbers written in Egyptian hieroglyphics: 1-3-4-1-4. Wizard placed those plans in a file marked 'Imhotep V.
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