It all started for Guy Goodlet somewhere over Caen. One moment he was heading for the relative safety of the coast, aware that fuel was low and that the Mosquito had more than a few bullet holes in it. The next, his co-pilot was asking to be dropped off. This would have been odd if Peter had still been alive. Since he was dead, it was downright worrying.
Fifteen hundred years have passed and the Grail is still missing, presumed ineffable; the Knights have dumped the Quest and now deliver pizzas; the sinister financial services industry of the lost kingdom of Atlantis threatens the universe with fiscal Armageddon; while in the background lurks the dark, brooding, red-caped presence of Father Christmas.