It was the Halicarna.s.sus Halicarna.s.sus. West's very own plane.

With a colossal roar, the great black jumbo jet swooped downwards, angling for the tiny road that bordered the swamp.

Now with all eight of his people on one swamprunner, West needed help and the Halicarna.s.sus Halicarna.s.sus was about to provide it. was about to provide it.

Two missiles lanced out from its belly-pods, missing one Apache by inches, but hitting the one behind it.

Boom. Fireball.

Then the great plane's underside minigun blazed to life, sending a thousand tracer rounds sizzling through the air all around the third Apache, giving it the choice of either bugging out or dying. It bugged out.

West's lone swamprunner swept alongside the straight roadway, raced parallel to it. The road was elevated a couple of feet above the water, up a low gently-sloping bank.

At the same moment, above and behind West's boat, the big 747 landed landed on the little country road! on the little country road!

Its wheels. .h.i.t the road, squealing briefly before rolling forward with its outer tyres half off the road's edges. The big jet then taxied down the roadway-coming alongside West's skimming swamprunner, its wings stretching out over the waters of the swamp. West's skimming swamprunner, its wings stretching out over the waters of the swamp.

The Halicarna.s.sus Halicarna.s.sus was coasting, rolling. was coasting, rolling.

West's boat was speeding as fast as it could to keep up.

Then with a bang, the loading ramp at the back of the 747 dropped open, slammed down against the roadway behind the speeding plane.

A second later, a long cable bearing a large hook at its end came snaking out of the now-open cargo hold. It was a retrieval cable, normally used to snag weather balloons.

'What are you going to do now, my friend!' Pooh Bear yelled to West above the wind.

'This!'

As West spoke, he jammed his steering levers hard left, and the swamprunner swept leftward, bouncing up the riverbank and out of the water, and out of the water, dry-sliding on its flat-bottomed hull onto the bitumen road close behind the rolling 747! dry-sliding on its flat-bottomed hull onto the bitumen road close behind the rolling 747!

It was an incredible sight: a big black 747 rolling along a country road, with a boat boat skidding and sliding along the road right behind it. skidding and sliding along the road right behind it.

West saw the loading ramp of the plane, very close now, just a few yards in front of his sliding boat. He also saw the slithering retrieval cable b.u.mping and bouncing on the road right in front of him.

'Stretch! The cable! Snag it!'

At the bow of the dry-sliding swamprunner, Stretch used a long snagging pole to reach out and snag the retrieval cable's hook. He got it.

'Hook us up!' West yelled.

Stretch did so, latching the cable's hook around the boat's bow.

And suddenly-whap!-the swamprunner was yanked forward, pulled along by the giant 747!

Dragged now by the Halicarna.s.sus, Halicarna.s.sus, the swamprunner looked like a waterskier being pulled by a speedboat. the swamprunner looked like a waterskier being pulled by a speedboat.

West yelled into his radio, 'Sky Monster! Reel us in!'

Sky Monster initiated the plane's internal cable spooler, and now the swamprunner began to move gradually forward, hauled in by the cable, pulled closer and closer to the loading ramp.

While this was going on, the 747's belly-mounted gun turret continued to swing left and right, raining h.e.l.l on Kallis's pursuing swampboats and the two remaining Apaches, keeping them at bay.

At last, West's swamprunner came to the loading ramp. West and Pooh Bear grabbed the ramp's struts, held the boat steady.

'Okay, everyone! All aboard!' West yelled.

One after the other, his team leapt from the swamprunner onto the lowered loading ramp-Wizard with Lily, then Zoe helping Fuzzy, Stretch helping Big Ears, and finally Pooh Bear and West himself.

Once West had landed on the loading ramp, he unhooked the swamprunner and the boat fell away behind the speeding 747, tumbling end over end down the little black road.

Then the loading ramp lifted and closed, and the 747 powered up and pulled away from the American Apaches and swampboats. It hit take-off speed and rose smoothly into the air.

Safe.

Clear.

Away.

The Halicarna.s.sus Halicarna.s.sus flew south over the vast Ethiopian highlands. flew south over the vast Ethiopian highlands.

While the others collapsed in the plane's large main cabin, West went straight up to the c.o.c.kpit where he found the plane's pilot: a great big hairy-bearded New Zealand Air Force pilot known as Sky Monster Sky Monster. Unlike the others in the group, this had actually been his call-sign before before he'd joined the team. he'd joined the team.

West gazed out at the landscape receding into the distance behind them-the swamp, the mountain, the vast plains beyond it-and thought about del Piero's Europeans engaging the superior American force. Del Piero would have little luck.

The Americans, as always the last to arrive but the greatest in brute force, had allowed West and the Europeans to squabble over the Piece, to lose men finding it, and then, like opportunistic lions, they'd muscled in on the hyenas and taken the prize.

And as the Halicarna.s.sus Halicarna.s.sus soared into the sky away from the danger, West gazed at the large American force now gathered at the western edge of the swamp. soared into the sky away from the danger, West gazed at the large American force now gathered at the western edge of the swamp.

A disquieting thought lingered in his mind.

How had the Americans even known about this place?

The Europeans very probably had a copy of the Callimachus Text and, of course, they had the boy. But the Americans, so far as West knew, had neither.

Which meant there was no way they could have known that this was the resting place of the Colossus of Rhodes.

West frowned.

Was his team's cover blown? Had the Americans discovered their base and followed them here? Or worse: was there a traitor in his team who had given their position away with a tracing beacon?

In any case, Judah now knew that West was involved in this treasure hunt. He might not know exactly who West was working for, but he knew West was involved.

Which meant that things were about to get very intense.

Safe at last, but without their prize, West's plane sped away to the south, disappearing over the mountains.

Exhausted and dirty, West trudged back down into the main cabin. Head down in thought, he almost walked straight past Lily, curled up in the darkness under the stairs, sobbing quietly.

West crouched down beside her and with a gentleness that defied his battered state, brushed away her tears. 'Hey, kiddo.'

'They ...they just killed killed him,' she swallowed. 'Killed Noddy.' him,' she swallowed. 'Killed Noddy.'

'I know.'

'Why'd they have to do that? He never hurt any of them.'

'No, he didn't,' West said. 'But what we're doing here has made some big countries very angry-because they're afraid of losing their power. That's why they killed Noddy.' He tousled her hair as he stood to go. 'Hey. I'll miss him, too.'

Tired, sore and himself saddened by the loss of Noddy, West retired to his small bunkroom in the aft section of the plane.

He collapsed into his bunk and no sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was asleep.

He slept deeply, his dreams filled with vivid visions-of b.o.o.by-trapped chambers, stone altars, chants and screams, waterfalls of lava, and of himself running frantically through it all.

The interesting thing was, these dreams weren't the product of West's imagination.

They had actually happened, ten years previously ...

NORTH-EASTERN UGANDA.

20 MARCH, 1996.

10 YEARS EARLIER.

INSIDE THE KANYAMANAGA VOLCANO.

UGANDA, AFRICA.

20 MARCH, 1996, 11:47 A.M.

The images of West's dreams: West running desperately down an ancient stone pa.s.sageway with Wizard at his side, toward the sounds of booming drums, chanting and a woman's terrified screams.

It's hot.

Hot as h.e.l.l.

And since it's inside a volcano, it even looks like looks like h.e.l.l. h.e.l.l.

It is just the two of them-plus Horus, of course. The team does not even exist at this time.

Their clothes are covered in mud and tar-they've survived a long and arduous path to get here. West wears his fireman's helmet and thick-soled army boots. Ten years younger, at age 27 he is more idealistic but no less intense. His eyes are narrow, focused. And his left arm is his own.

Boom-boom-boom! go the drums. go the drums.

The chanting increases.

The woman's screams cut the air.

'We must hurry!' Wizard urges. 'They've started the ritual!'

They pa.s.s through several b.o.o.by-trapped pa.s.sageways-each of which West neutralises.

Ten disease-carrying molossid bats burst forth from a dark ceiling recess, fangs bared-only to have Horus launch herself off West's shoulder and plunge into their midst, talons raised. A thudding mid-air collision. Squeals and shrieks. Two bats smack down against the floor, brought down by the little falcon.

That splits the bats and the two men dash through them, Horus catching up moments later.

West is confronted by a long downward-sloping shaft. It's like a 100-metre-long stone pipe, steeply slanted, big enough for him to fit if he sits down.

Boom go the drums. go the drums.

The evil chanting is close now.

The woman's frenzied screams are like nothing he has ever heard: pained, desperate, primal.

West shoots a look to Wizard.

The older man waves him on. 'Go! Jack! Go! Get to her! I'll catch up!'

West leaps feet-first into the pipe-shaft and slides fast.

Five traps later, he emerges from the bottom of the long stone pipe on ...

...a balcony of some kind.

A balcony which overlooks a large ceremonial cavern.

He peers out from the balcony's railing and beholds the horrifying sight.

The woman lies spreadeagled on a rough stone altar, tied down, legs spread wide, writhing and struggling, terrified terrified.

She is surrounded by about twenty priest-like figures all wearing hooded black robes and fearsome jackal masks of the Egyptian G.o.d Anubis.

Six of the priests pound on huge lion-skin drums.

The rest chant in a strange language.