The conference room was standard and Alistair spun on his swivel chair until Capt Baker, Elvis and Julian joined him and Delilah. Col Rose arrived a few minutes later, matching in with a red pouch tucked under his arm. He handed it to Capt Baker who snapped off the security tags and unzipped the pouch and withdrew an digital key attached to a beaded chain.

"Are you ready to play?" Capt Baker asked Delilah.

"Heaven help me for accepting your deal," she agreed, sliding Archie's tin box across the smooth tabletop. Sandwiched between Julian and Elvis, Alistair sat quietly as Capt Baker placed the chain and tin box together on the table then crossed his arms across his chest.

"All arguments aside, we know Archie Raven is in a spot of bother with the Futurists and the question is: why should we all risk our necks to save this old man?"

"So let me tell you a story," he conspired. Alistair being one to enjoy stories, listened intently whilst Capt Baker, standing legs slightly apart, began running his thumbs up and down the insides of his suspenders.

"Civil War has raged for eleven years and it's now the hot summer of 2048. Mired in stalemate, the London Ring wall has just been penetrated and barbarous Futurist forces stream in to the City, massing for one final assault upon the Loyalist capitol. Annihilating the crumbling resistance, the Loyalists retreat for the London Tower, code named Little Kathy Wilson's Place. The Futurist Air-force wins the sky above and chaos ensures as Futurist forces march to the City. It's too late for King George VII to evacuate his family by airship.  As all hell breaks loose down at Little Kathy Wilson's Place, George's sister, Princess Charlotte, gives birth to a baby from a pregnancy that has been an extremely well kept secret, even within Loyalist circles."

Alistair wriggled, intrigued.

"Wishing to salvage peace, King George VII petitions General Golding for a ceasefire to protect Loyalist Britons, which Golding accepts. Effectively, the Loyalists cede the nation to the Futurists and the Civil War is declared over. Sadly, the last embers of democratic life in Great Britain are swiftly extinguished."

"King George is imprisoned, somewhat ironically, within the Tower."

"What about the baby?" Alistair questioned.

"Patience, Alistair," Capt Baker replied, disrupted from his well memorised story. "Prior to their surrender, the King delivers the newborn baby to the safekeeping of the last of his Lions' Guards, the King's personal detachment of Ghost Ops soldiers. George thus orders them to take the newborn far from the city and they breakout, via the Lambeth catacombs. Anarchy ascends the throne and Futurist soldiers' loot and pillage, whilst defeated Loyalists are granted 48 hours to flee the country. Widespread speculation continues to circulate that the Royal family are to be executed, which halts the Lions' Guards' expedition; instead of leaving London, they plot a daring rescue. Utilising the subterranean tunnels back in to the Tower, they hope to overcome the Futurist captors, rescue the Royal family and whisk them away to safety on an awaiting Airship."

"However, it is decided that one of the party must remain behind with the baby princess. The most senior Lion's Guard is chosen – he has the quickest wit, is adaptive, and coldly combative whilst a master of disguise; he tasks himself to join the thousands of Britons fleeing to the coast at Brighton. Their plan is hatched and a coded communiqué is transmitted."

"With his comrades wishing him well, the Lion's Guards confidently creep back in to the shadows and their colleague will never see them alive again. Evading detection, he sets off with his prized package as the foul winds of change waft over Britain. Discipline in the Futurist ranks had never been high; compassion and grace is in short supply and the path to Brighton is awash with blood and barbarity."

"The soldier struggles but he eventually reaches the seaside town where he bides his time out of the way of prying eyes. With so much disarray, conflicting news of a quashed insurrection trickles through. Soon, broadcasts are received that the King, along with his family, are dead. Loyalist sympathisers are penned at St Paul's. Headlines proclaim Celebration Day and the Thames flows red; the soldier cradles the baby, his heart sinks and his war is lost."

"Grief consumes him as he thinks of his own wife and child hiding in London. He prays they remain safe until he can return home and rescue them from the new regime, yet for now, he must fulfil his destiny. In his hands is an orphan baby, the Queen of England. He is determined she will survive, even at his own cost, to one day return and reclaim her throne."

Capt Baker pauses; all eyes are on him.

"Communications are difficult and he makes furtive appearances at the rendezvous, holding hope for an allied message. The Futurists don't want anyone staying if they don't want to and boats of all sizes fill with British refugees sailing away. Simply, he must make a decision: should he stay or should he go? Finally, negotiating safe passage to Brazil on a steamer, the Thekla II, he plans the ultimate sacrifice to guarantee the baby's safety."

"Then, fortuitously, the soldier receives an encoded message from a Canadian ally, apologising for his tardiness. Using his signalling skills, the soldier ensures he is not been duped. Heavily disguised, he waits on the shoreline by the cover of smog and is greeted by an audacious Major, who has come ashore in a duckie. The Major's cloaked airship is anchored five miles out to sea and the Major promises he has room for two, but with much anguish, the forlorn soldier declines. He tells the Canadian he must return to London to rescue his own family. The soldier knows all too well there will be no second chance of escape and concludes he will prepare the best he can for the gloom ahead."

"When asked how they will find him, the soldier states bluntly that they probably won't. He declares his war is over and it is time for him to forget his past and find a future. Passing the baby in to the Major's care, the first of baby's loyal guards gently kisses her forehead and softly says 'God Save the Queen'."

Capt Baker stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, relieving the tension.

"The Major asks of the brave man's name and the soldier winks, tapping the side of his nose knowingly, wishing to remain anonymous. The only clue he volunteers is that he will be tending to the Tower's ravens in anticipation of the Queen's return."

"And the baby's?" the Canadian Major asks, gesturing to the newborn cradled in his arms.

"Elizabeth," the Lion's Guard decides, baptising the newborn.  "Fare well, your Majesty."

"They shake hands and the soldier pushes the duckie into the sea for the Major, waves goodbye and that is the last any one sees or hears of him. Of course, all computer databases and military records are lost or destroyed after the civil war and the pandemonium probably benefits the man greatly. Obviously, he kept his word, never once revealing his true identity to the world but that hasn't stopped some of us from searching."

As discussion breaks out, in a roundabout way, Delilah and Alistair pepper Capt Baker to prove it.

"Well, the Major was my father," Capt Baker revealed. "And in turn, Major Bryan-Adam "Ironside" Baker delivered Elizabeth to the care of Sir Richard and the Knights of the Realm. During the ensuing years, Sir Richard and my father invested a lot of time and money trying to find the invisible man who saved the heir. Sir Richard still suggests the soldier was the last of the Lion's Guards, the man they called the Ravenmaster; others hypothesise he was any number of Ghost Ops grunts. Either way, we've never been definitively sure. When my father retired, he begged me to continue his search in the vain hope we would find and honour this mystery man before he was lost forever. I've kept my word but more so as a hobby then any real quest.  Until recently."

"So how does this have anything to do with Alistair's grandfather?" Col Rose enquired.

"Yeah, how did you even meet my grandfather?" Alistair added.

"Technically, I haven't met him as such. Elvis has been leaving coded crumbs all around New London and he did a couple of jobs for us. But we only ever did our business via the stalls at Walthamstow Whippets. Left some messages, asked me if he could skylift him and said he'd make it worth my while. Wouldn't say anymore than that. It's all academic now, with Archie arrested, the Futurists will be able to pickpocket his thoughts, and anything useful he remembered will be there's."

Elvis yawned.

"As always Cap'n, this geezer's gotta be dead by now. Total fool's lark," Elvis dismissed itching to get back to some real work and tired of having to hear his sky-pilot friend wax lyrical again.

Capt Baker sighed. Plucking a vial from his pants pocket, he switched on a holorama in the centre of the tabletop.

"If you bear with me, I have a hypothesis," he continued. "And Elvis, I promise, this is the very last time I will ever bore you with this legacy tale." Reaching for the digital key, he offered it to Alistair.

"Here, take this key," he said sliding the tin box over the tabletop to Alistair also. "Open it," he encouraged. Alistair edged the key into the lock and it clicked in to place. Soft orange lights began to glow and numbers appeared on the keypad circles.

"I don't know the code," Alistair shrugged.

"10-4-8-8-11-7-9-1," Delilah parroted, adding: "Trust me, I know what I'm doing." Alistair gently pressed in the sequence of buttons the lock clicked open. Tenderly, Alistair lifted the lid as everyone craned to see what was inside. Deliberately, Alistair removed each item one by one.

Amongst the booty, there was a small sealed, but not glued, yellowing envelope without any writing on it, a Loyalist dog tag of Civil War vintage and a military insignia, which Capt Baker immediately collected before Alistair could check it out. But there was more: a rubber-banded set of plastic playing cards; a ring of keys, four being thick iron keys that had moulded bows of a Lion head; and two small square keys - one with a red tag and an Arabic inscription stamped on it, the other a blue tag laser-etched with Central Station 1012. Finally, Alistair extracted an old memory stick; a small lock of ginger hair; a holographic library card for the Information Society; a piece of amber containing a dried bumblebee; and last of all, a fetching gold fob watch inscribed on the back with a message that read: It's always darkest just before the dawn. Love Ava.

"My goodness, that is quite the treasure trove," Julian said effervescently and Capt Baker brought the focus back on himself.

"Alistair, during the war, Loyalist soldiers wore dog tags like these to identify their rank and service record. A soldier's dog tags contained a DNA sample so that infiltrators could be easily identified from their blood against the DNA in the tags."

"Those who didn't match their tags were shot on sight," Elvis chuckled. "They didn't mess around back then."

"As I was saying," Capt Baker continued, "the owner's DNA sample is in the dog tags." Firing up a holorama, he plugged in the tags' and a DNA helix filled the screen and Alistair's stomach knotted in excitement as he awaited the result.

"Well, there you have it. This dog tag belonged to Sgt William Hamilton," Capt Baker pronounced as the soldier's service record scrolled across the screen.

"Blinking who?" Elvis asked.

"Oh dear," Julian gasped. "Dead end?"

"Probably," Capt Baker said resignedly.

Sgt William Hamilton Alistair harrumphed. That guy in that distorted portrait I saw with Lewis? Who in blazes is he and why does pop have his stuff hidden away in his closet?

With sinking heart, Alistair looked at Delilah as Capt Baker continued.

"Anyway, this morning Alistair was kind enough to provide me with a blood sample." Capt Baker waved his hand across the holorama and loaded in Alistair's DNA sample. While they waited, the others talked amongst themselves.

"How did you know the tin box code then?" Alistair asked Delilah, who took his smaller hand in hers and tried to comfort him.

"Archie has always kept Billy's secret. The only person he ever shared it with was your own father but when he was killed, Archie entrusted me and should anything ever happen to him, I was to keep it hidden until you were old enough to do something with the knowledge or let it fade when my circuits eventually corroded."

Glumly, Alistair sat back in the chair and kicked his feet realising what his grandfather had told him was true: he was no one special in the war and the tin box contents belonged to an anonymous someone else; an anonymous someone else who was the true hero, whose identity Archie had continued to protect. Suddenly deflated, Alistair didn't want to hear anymore.

"Whatever," Alistair mumbled. Watching Sgt William Hamilton's DNA sequence scroll across the screen, all interest he had had in the tin box evaporated and he felt like slinking away and being on his own.

"Stiff upper lip," Julian sympathised.

"No need to get all Mifflin Tom," Elvis added, trying to cheer him up.

"So tell me Capt Baker, will you be wasting any more of my time?" Col Rose asked, standing up and preparing to leave the meeting. Alistair let his chin sink on to his chest and Capt Baker held up the military insignia from the tin box.

"Yea of little faith – this is the insignia of the Ravenmaster," Capt Baker declared, though Alistair had stopped listening.

"Alistair, check this out. Here is your DNA sequence from this morning's blood test," Capt Baker detailed, pointing out Alistair's DNA strand scrolling across the screen. Capt Baker then cross-matched it to the helix from the DNA sampled from the dog tags.

"So?" Alistair mumbled, spinning the memory stick around on the tabletop with deft flicks of his finger. Alistair didn't see the screen flash with a bold red font. He didn't see Julian and Elvis jolt in surprise, or see Col Rose's jaw drop to the floor nor did he see Delilah's knowing smile. In fact, as Col Rose rubbed his eyes, the air was sucked out of the room.

"Alistair, take a goosey-gander at this," the sky-pilot recommended.

Alistair reluctantly looked up at the holorama display, not quite registering at first. However, in bold red font, the words Familial DNA Match bleeped for all to see.

"Say what?" Alistair spluttered. "What does that mean?"

"Alistair, you're William Hamilton's grandson," Julian said joyously, clapping his hands together.

"And William Hamilton is Archie Raven," Delilah confirmed. "The last of the Lion's Guards."

"And Archie Raven," Capt Baker beamed, "IS the Ravenmaster!"

Alistair, lost for words, fell off his chair.

Col Rose was straight on to a secure communicator, patching in to BritSat 1. As Alistair climbed off the floor, Col Rose rushed out of the conference room, reporting back to a higher authority.

"Ma'am, we've found him. I repeat: we have found him. And we haven't got a second to spare!"