Seven Ancient Wonders - Matthew Reilly [76]
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 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