When the Vatican, in December 1993, finally set the seat on the establishment of diplomatic relations with the State of Israel, furious militant anti-Zionist groups throughout the Muslim world made no secret of the violence of their disapproval. So it came as no great surprise when the extensive intelligence network operated by the Papal State got wind of an Islamic plot to assassinate His Holiness Pope John Paul II.
No great surprise, perhaps, but a cause of no small consternation: His Holiness was shortly to spend two weeks on a foreign tour, taking in India and the UK. Monsignor Alfonso di Montefalco, the worldly, smooth-talking Vatican official responsible for the Pope's personal safety, knew he had to act quickly - and circumspectly. The Pope himself had not been informed of the threat, and the suspicions of the host nations' security services must in no way be aroused.
Within days, ex-SAS Major Piers Bowring and his highly specialized three-man team had landed a hugely lucrative and dangerous commission: they were charged with identifying the group behind the plot and removing the hit men, without creating any grounds for media speculation.
The assignment was to lead the mercenaries into more action and complex tactical manoeuvres than they had bargained for as, hunted as well as hunting, they pursued - and were pursued by - their opponents all over Europe and the Middle East, never certain whether they were about to corner their quarry or be cornered themselves.
Surely, with the resilience and daring, the cool skills and the unfaltering expertise that were the legacy of the toughest military training in the world, Bowring's team could not fail to confound the fanatical terrorists. The firearms at the mercenaries' disposal were unsurpassed in their power and deadly accuracy. No previous plot - and there had been a few - to assassinate the Pope had been successful and nor, surely, could this one.
Or could it?