Pooh Bear, Stretch, Sister Lynda and Dr Tracy

Airspace above Austria

26–27 December

The Airbus A340–200 airliner commenced its descent through the snow-capped peaks of the Austrian Alps.

This, however, was no ordinary airliner.

For one thing, it bore the Egyptian flag on its tail and had arab republic of egypt written in large letters on its flanks.

It also had four engines, not the usual two, which was unusual for this model of airliner. The extra engines made it capable of speeds and manoeuvres that a regular Airbus A340 could not do.

Finally, on the inside, it was luxurious and high-tech. It had a plush master bedroom, multiple office suites and some of the most sophisticated communications equipment a dictator could buy.

The reason: this plane was the personal aircraft of the President of Egypt.

Only today it wasn’t occupied by the Egyptian president. He lay asleep in his bed in Cairo, immobilised by the ringing of a Siren bell there, along with the rest of the city.

No, today his plane was being used by Stretch, Pooh Bear, Sister Lynda Fadel and Dr Tracy Smith.

They had purloined it from Cairo International Airport the previous day and, after an overnight stopover at a U.S. military base not far from Munich that had been struck down by a Siren bell, they’d flown it here as part of the mission they had been assigned by Jack before he had departed for the Supreme Labyrinth.

That mission: to find out where the royal families of the four legendary kingdoms were going in preparation for the Omega Event and what they planned to do after it.

This was why they had flown to the U.S. Army base in Bavaria.

Known as Katterbach Kaserne, like many of the American garrison bases in Germany, it was equipped with some of the world’s finest satellite and signals interception equipment, equipment that could scan every secure frequency—military, cellular or otherwise—for radio chatter, in particular, any chatter that mentioned Omega, Sphinx, the kingdoms or royal families.

Because of the Siren bell that had gone off at the base, Stretch strode unchallenged into its comms centre and began the search.

It took a while.

A whole day of waiting and listening, waiting and listening . . . until suddenly the airwaves started pinging with frantic calls: the calls that he’d been hoping to hear.

Stretch gathered everyone in the comms centre.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘With cities around the world falling asleep and the Omega Event almost here, the royal world is scrambling. A lot of worried rich people are making a lot of calls. Listen to these intercepts I caught.’

He hit play on his console.

Voices on cell phones:

‘—Storm Cellar Protocol has been initialised. Time to batten down the hatches before the big ceremony in the maze and the transition. Hardin put his old buddy, the royal banker Sir John Marren, in charge of the rendezvous operation—’