The 34th Degree

98

“ So good to see you alive,” said Brigadier Andrew Eliot, whose face, Andros concluded, was capable of assuming any shape. “Come, sit down. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“So have the Germans,” Andros replied, taking a seat at the card table.

Eliot nodded to the man across the table with the submachine gun. “Meet Orestes, one of our communications officers. He’s in charge of the station here in Sparta.”

Andros looked at the nondescript fellow, who shared Eliot’s ability to blend into any crowd. “Nice to meet you,” said Andros, and he turned to Eliot. “What’s the word from Athens? Did Aphrodite and my family get out?”

Eliot started shuffling the cards. “Your family left Piraeus safely this morning with Kostas Vasilis aboard the Turtle Dove. Right now they’re en route to Istanbul.”

So far, so good, thought Andros. “And Aphrodite?”

“She’s in better shape than her parents. Von Berg had them executed in the family gardens early this morning.”

Andros flinched at the news. “That goddamn Nazi bastard.” He let his face drop to his hands. “They were his last bargaining chips with Aphrodite. I didn’t think-”

“That the Baron would play his trump card so soon?” said Eliot, dealing him a hand. “Neither did we. Unfortunately, that means he’s using brute force on the girl now. She was last seen boarding the Baron’s plane before it lifted off from Athens. I think we can safely assume he’s not planning on coming back.”

“Where did they go?”

“We were hoping you could tell us. You have the film?”

Before Andros could answer, their host, Theo, came into the room, his anxiety revealing itself through his strained smile. He was followed by Stavros and Erin. Erin took a seat at the table with Eliot. But the kapetanios moved to the window and nervously looked out over the platia. Theo left them and closed the door.

“Your big friend here needn’t worry,” Eliot told Andros. “The Germans have already broken in here once before. When they discovered what we were ‘really up to’-gambling, or so they thought-it put their suspicions at ease. Since that night, I can’t tell you how many times a Kraut has been in that chair you’re sitting in for a good game of rummy. The proceeds of their considerable losses have kept Theo’s bar well stocked.”

Stavros stood by the window. “Tell him about Kalos, Andros.”

“Colonel Kalos of EDES?” asked Eliot. “What about him?”

“He betrayed us, all of us,” Andros said. “The National Bands, EDES, even ELAS.” He explained what had happened.

Eliot swore under his breath. “Colonel Kalos a Communist? That will indeed shake them up in Cairo.” He looked at Stavros. “If it’s true.”

Stavros turned from the window. “I swear to you, it is true.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow. “Then aren’t you on the same side?”

“I am of the mountains; Kalos is a disciple of Moscow’s. Greece is for neither the British nor the Russians; Greece is for the Greeks.”

“We can handle Kalos,” said Eliot. “The hard part will be handling your escape. Orestes, get back to your place and raise Cairo on the set. Tell them the Yankee Clipper is ready to sail. Andros, you cut the cards.”

Andros watched Orestes walk out the door with his submachine gun tucked under his coat. Then he cut the deck. “So what now?”

“The situation is, to say the least, fluid.” Eliot dealt everybody a hand. “Submarine pickup tonight off the Gulf of Messenia. When you leave here, you’ll be dressed as farm laborers, driving a produce truck on an olive and grain run to the port of Kalamata. A small fishing boat will be waiting to take you out to sea and link up with the submarine. Prestwick will be on board, anxious for your information. Now, pick up your hand.”

Andros did as he was told. Inserted among the playing cards was an official identity card that gave him the name Troumboulas. “Where did you get this?”

“Courtesy of a certain gendarme,” Eliot explained.

Stavros, suspicious as ever, asked, “Perhaps a local police chief I know personally?”

“Just because plenty of Greek police officials work under the Nazis and Italians doesn’t mean all of them are collaborators, Stavros,” Eliot said. “Quite a few are genuine patriots helping the Resistance. This one contacted us some months ago, saying he wanted to join the guerrillas in the mountains. We told him to stay at his post, that apart from carrying out his unpleasant duties as humanely as possible, he could also be of some service to us. I have more for the rest of you.”

“I won’t be needing one,” said Stavros. “This is as far as I go. After we get out of here, I must get back to my village.”

Eliot looked at the kapetanios with disdain, as if Stavros were a loose end that refused to be tied. “Fine,” he said.

Andros asked, “So where is this truck, and who will be driving?”

Eliot led him to the open window overlooking the platia, throbbing with evening strollers and patrons of the tavernas. “See that fountain over there? In ten minutes you will go take a drink of water. A man will appear behind you, telling you to save some for the fish off Kalamata. He’s your conductor. You’ll follow him to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. That’s where the truck is. You simply ask to see Stella. We don’t have much time: curfew is in under an hour.”

“What about us?” asked Stavros, glancing at Erin. “You expect us to wait up here with a hundred Germans downstairs?”

“Andros will park the lorry in the rear and load you in the back. The less you two are seen, the better. All of you will take the main road out of Sparta and drive through the Taygetos range to Kalamata.”

“And simply float through the checkpoints?” Stavros asked.

“Inside the glove compartment of the lorry are papers signed by the local German garrison commander himself. They’ll get you past the checkpoints here in Sparta, outside Kalamata, and onto the docks. Our man Niko will take you in his fishing caique to the submarine. The caique is moored to the second to last pier. Understood?”

“Understood,” said Andros.

“Good, I’ll go secure the arrangements. Andros, you follow me in five minutes.”

When Eliot left the room, he closed the door and went downstairs to the phone in the kitchen. There, amid the background clatter of plates and glasses, he dialed a local number. “This is the Minotaur. Andros just turned up. I’m sending him your way. He’ll do as I say, and so will you. Now listen…”