In a lavish alpine chateau six centenarians meet in a six-sided room. Each man reclines in one of six hexagonal jacuzzis that contains not water, but a revitalizing guarana- and caffeine-infused solution. The exact ingredients of the jacuzzi elixir are known to only one man, and only two men know his identity. And neither of those men knows of his counterpart’s existence.

Such is the surreptitious shroud that enfolds these six men, that even their bathing habits are subject to the most elaborate of concealments. Perhaps you are beginning to consider the possibility that the rumours whispered in governmental back-rooms and gentlemens’ clubs the world over have some standing in reality; that these six men are indeed the puppet-masters who determine the course of world affairs.

Perhaps, you may think – though dreading the slim chance that it be true, they are the fabled… Sextumvirate.