The Red Sea stretched away to the starry horizon, glittering and vast, reflecting the light of the full moon.

But it was what lay on it that caused Rufus to say what he said.

By the brilliant light of the moon, they saw a flotilla of nine naval vessels anchored off the coast.

Occupying pride of place in the centre of the mini-fleet, towering above all the others, was an aircraft carrier. It was simply gigantic, built to a different scale than all the others. Destroyers, frigates and a cluster of support ships flanked it like parasites.

‘An aircraft carrier?’ Sky Monster said, confused. ‘Who would have a carrier near here—?’

‘That’s a Russian carrier,’ Rufus said flatly. ‘You can tell by the bow angle of the launch deck. That’s the Admiral Kuznetsov. Big bastard. Look at what’s beyond it.’

Sky Monster did and he saw it.

An enormous multi-levelled oil rig.

Perched atop six colossal pillars that were themselves mounted on two huge floating hulls, the rig stood almost as high above the waterline as the aircraft carrier’s control tower did.

It had four levels packed with pipes and office structures, plus a helipad that jutted out from its forward end. At its tallest point, a cluster of antennas stabbed upward at the sky.

The huge rig was positioned about a mile out from the shore. It was a mobile vessel that floated on the surface, tethered by a cable to a concrete plug on the seafloor.

Rufus nodded at the rig. ‘That’s the Red Horizon Star-4. And it looks like it’s got some serious naval protection.’

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but there seemed to be something in the water in between the rig and the carrier, something large that did not reflect the moonlight.

Helicopters flitted like insects between the Russian naval ships and the rig . . . and a makeshift airfield that had been set up on the desert shore. A cluster of white demountable buildings flanked a runway of hardpacked sand, all of it lit by floodlights.

Sky Monster gazed hard at the scene: the airfield, the rig, the carrier.

It was an awesome display of military power.

‘Whatever the surface point of the Labyrinth is, these guys have known about it for some time,’ he said. ‘I bet that rig is really owned by some secret royal assholes. Probably been sitting here for years, on top of some kind of weird deposit, making sure no-one else finds it.’

‘Look! There!’ Rufus said, pointing at the dusty airfield by the shore.

Sky Monster peered that way and saw them: Alby and Aloysius, lying asleep inside a pair of outdoor cages, guarded by Squires of the Golden Eight and some bronzemen.

‘We gotta bust them out, but how?’ Rufus said.

Sky Monster bit his lip in thought. ‘I don’t know yet, but we have to figure out something.’

A Man Named Jack: Part II The Schoolyard Fight