revs substantially. He also made a call on his mobile phone.
‘Reinforcements?’ Mavros asked when he’d finished.
‘My cousin and a couple of his mates. We work out together. One of them’s the All-Crete heavyweight wrestling champion. They’ll come to meet us.’
‘Wrestling won’t be much help against shotguns.’
‘Don’t be too sure. Those arseholes won’t fire at us in broad daylight when we’re down in the populated areas.’ He laughed hollowly. ‘They’ll wait till dark.’
‘Great.’ Mavros looked at the woman. Her tears had soaked his shirt and were running like an in-car waterfall off the leather jacket he’d put around her. ‘Maria? Tell me what happened. It might make things easier when it comes to keeping you safe.’
She gave him a brief glance and then looked away. Ahead, there were more trees and the hillside was less bleak. They had passed a couple of villages. Mikis was driving as if he was in a rally, cornering with skill and accelerating past slow-moving farm vehicles when the road allowed.
‘Under half an hour now,’ he said, casting an eye in the mirror. ‘Oh-oh, we’ve got company,’ he said, in Greek. ‘The pickup with the two hard men in the back.’
Maria Kondos clearly understood as she shrank down in the seat, her upper body jerking back and forward so rapidly that Mavros thought she was having a fit. After a few minutes, when it became clear that the Kornariates weren’t gaining on the Jeep, she began to calm down.
‘You got any weapons?’ Mavros asked, in a low voice.
Mikis felt under his seat again. ‘A hunting knife.’ He handed over a sheathed blade not much smaller than a machete. ‘And a Colt 45 automatic.’ He kept that hidden.
‘You’re kidding,’ Mavros said, in amazement. ‘What if the cops caught you with that?’
The Cretan shrugged. ‘My old man knows people. It’s not like I ever use it, except on deserted beaches for practice.’
Mavros clung on to Maria with one arm and clutched the side of his seat with the other hand as the Jeep took a bend at high speed. ‘I don’t suppose your friends have similar arsenals?’
Mikis smiled. ‘I told them to bring what they could.’ He glanced in the mirror. ‘We should be all right. Those dope-heads can’t drive for shit.’
Then the nearside front tyre burst and they slewed all over the road, finally coming to a stop centimetres from a low stone wall. There was no sign of habitation nearby.
‘Oh shit,’ said Mikis, with surprising equanimity. ‘Everyone out.’
They opened the doors and clambered over the drystone wall, Maria Kondos wailing hopelessly. Mavros got her to lie down and put his jacket over her head and shoulders, then asked her to be quiet. Mikis handed him the knife, having slipped off the sheath.
‘You ever used one of these?’ he asked.
‘I’ve never even seen one like that. Maybe it’s better if I have the pistol. I’ve occasionally fired one of those.’
‘Occasionally isn’t going to get us far. Listen, you stay here. I’m going to work my way back up the road. The villagers are bound to stop some distance away and advance on foot, after splitting up. That’ll give me some chance to pick them off.’
‘You’re going to shoot to kill?’ Mavros asked, his stomach clenching.
‘If necessary. You think they won’t? They want the woman, though, not us. Stay next to her with the knife hidden. That way you might take one of them with you when they get close — if I don’t manage to deal with them all.’ He squeezed Mavros’s knee and headed up the slope, keeping below the wall.
‘Keep calm, Maria,’ Mavros said, in a low voice. ‘It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’
He couldn’t imagine a situation further from ‘all right’, but at least Mikis was looking out for them. He wondered how long it would take his friends to show up.
In the distance, he heard the sound of brakes being applied hard, then words which he didn’t catch. Then there was a shout and the sound of a shotgun being discharged. It was rapidly followed by the thunderous boom of Mikis’s pistol.
Mavros kept Maria Kondos’s head shielded by his arms.
A few minutes later he heard heavy steps and then Mikis appeared further up the wall, carrying a shotgun as well as his Colt. He was with them in seconds.
‘You didn’t kill him?’ Mavros said.
‘Didn’t even hit him. He dropped his weapon and took off up the hillside. The problem now is his two friends. They split up and disappeared into the vegetation.’
He looked around. ‘I’m going to stalk the one on this side of the road. The other, we’ll have to take our chances with.’ He crawled off under the trees.
Mavros had rarely felt so helpless. He had to stay with Maria — there was no knowing what she’d do if he left her — and all he had was a king-size carving knife. It was too large to throw, not that he had any experience of that. He rubbed his back where the sharp-edged stones were jagging into it, and suddenly had a thought. He had never been much use at sport, finding team discipline hard to handle. The only exercise he’d done when he was growing up in Athens was track and field. He’d been a decent long jumper and a passable discus thrower, but his best event — oddly, given his slim build — had been the shot putt. He carefully extracted several stones from the upper part of the wall and heaped them by his leg. If he heard anyone approaching across the road, they’d get an unwelcome surprise — assuming they didn’t manage to fire first.
There was a double shotgun discharge over in the middle distance and then a single shot from the Colt. His immediately felt his spirits rise. Two down and one to go. Maybe he’d take the hint and slip away like his friend. Then he realized how unlikely that was. A Cretan villager was unlikely to leave his comrades in arms and they would regroup. Besides, the mayor of Kornaria had probably sent backup.
There was the scrape of a boot on the other side of the road. Mavros got to his knees, selecting the most rounded of the stones he’d piled up. He heard cautious steps approaching the Jeep. After a few seconds, they moved closer.
Mavros knew he would have only one chance — if he was quick, he would succeed in dropping behind the wall after he let loose. Then, if the mountain man kept coming, he’d have time to grab the knife — not that he expected it to save them.
Maria Kondos had realized how dangerous the situation was and was lying mute beneath the leather jacket. He wondered where Mikis was. Maybe he’d only got the shot off after being hit by one or both shotgun blasts. This was down to Mavros. Niki and the Fat Man came into this mind unexpectedly and he found himself wishing he was with them in the safety of his mother’s apartment.
Then the sound of leather-soled boots came much closer. He took a deep breath as he took a firm grip on the stone, fitting it between his chest and shoulder and spreading his feet in a squat. There would be no chance of a swivel. Then he stood up as quickly as he could, taking a mark on the startled villager’s head and cast the stone.
It was a direct hit on the man’s forehead and he collapsed like Goliath before David.
‘Sweet move,’ said Mikis, from behind him. The Colt was in his belt and he was holding a fancy over-and- under shotgun and a pair of almost full bandoliers in his hands. ‘The second one fell over after I fired and will soon wake up with a very sore head. What about yours?’
Mavros hurdled the wall and grabbed the man’s wrist, after kicking away the shotgun. It was slow but regular. There was a lot of blood coming from the hairline.
‘No, just knocked-’
The sound of screeching brakes rendered his words inaudible. He watched as a trio of heavily armed men got out of a Range Rover.
Mikis waved to them. ‘You’re too late, but let’s get that tyre changed before the rest of the fuckers arrive.’
Mavros watched as that feat was accomplished in a few minutes. Then he escorted Maria Kondos to the Jeep. She was still silent, but more in control of herself.
He looked over his shoulder as Mikis drove on. The Range Rover was behind them and he didn’t think any men from Kornaria would get past Mikis’s friends.
