chain. Marler jerked the loop up and it ringed Newman's legs. He warned that the light would go out and took the rope in both hands. He hauled it up slowly and Newman called out that it was sliding up over his body.
'Tell me when it's under your arms, there's a good chap…'
'Now…'
'Tricky bit coming,' Marler called out. 'I need both hands to haul you up. When you let go you'll swing against the side of the shaft. Try and cushion yourself. Piece of cake. If you're lucky.'
'Thanks for the vote of confidence…'
Marler had his feet and knees braced against the side of the mine. He had knotted the rope in a few places to ward off as much rope burn on his hands as possible. And Newman weighed a few more pounds than he did. He called down that he was OK and waited for the considerable increase in weight. Newman called back that he was letting The rope had slid up under his armpits, the loop had tightened. He let go of the chain and swung outwards, his right hand palm up. It slammed into the wall. His hand stung horribly from the impact. For a moment he hadn't the strength to call up.
'OK to haul you in? Tell me. for Pete's sake,' Marler rasped.
The weight was greater than he'd expected. His knees were pulverized with the pressure against the side of the mine. Newman said something he couldn't catch. Can't mess around any longer, Marler told himself and began to haul up the excruciating weight.
Newman came up facing the curve of the wall, hands pressed into it to steady his ascent. His head appeared over the top, Marler arched his body backwards, gave one last heave. Newman's hands scrabbled at the edge of the mine, then he came over the top like a cork out of a bottle and flopped on the ground beside the two unconscious Greeks,
'This one with the shotgun was going to pepper you,' Marler remarked as he stooped over the unconscious Greek. 'I heard the charming conversation when I came up behind them. Relieved to be back in the land of the living?'
'You could say that. Who are these two jokers?' Newman eased his back up, rested it against the side of the mine, took off his gloves and flexed his aching fingers. 'Did you do a real job on them – or will they come round? if so, maybe I'd better put a bullet in their skulls.'
'Tweed said you'd become a hard man after that trip behind the lines in East Germany.' As he spoke he was searching the Greeks. He pulled out a bottle, uncapped it, sniffed, used his handkerchief to wipe the top and handed it to Newman.
'You need a pick-me-up. Drink, Ouzo.'
'Thanks.' Newman upended the bottle, swallowed, choked a little. He took another swig when he'd recovered. His whole body was aching. Legs, arms, hands, shoulders. 'Who are the bastards?' he asked again.
Marler was scanning a photo he'd taken from a grubby envelope. 'This one, as I thought, is Dimitrios. Taken with a girlfriend. Rather crudely erotic. I was pretty sure I recognized him from our little escapade on Siros. The other is Constantine. Meet the Gavalas brothers.'
'Let's hope I don't – on the streets of Athens. For their sake.'
'Feeling better? You have a hike. Back down the track to where Nick is waiting with the cars.'
Newman forced himself to stand, supporting himself with a hand on the wall of the mine. He drank a little more ouzo. Marler took the bottle off him.
'That's enough. We don't want you drunk. I'll be ready to go in a minute.'
Marler was emptying the rifle. He threw the cartridges down the slope, then held the rifle poised over the well. 'Might interest you to listen to this…' He let go and the rifle plunged down past the bucket into the black hole. Newman waited and his hand tightened on the wall. Seconds passed before they both heard the faintest of thuds. Marler locked at him.
'You could have sprained an ankle if you'd gone down there.'
'Ended up as a jelly. Safe to leave these two thugs?'
Marler was stooping over the Greeks, lifting an eyelid of both men. He straightened up. 'Out for the count for a while yet. Maybe I split a skull,' He emptied the shotgun, sent it down after the rifle. Dimitrios was wearing a sheathed knife under his jacket, Marler was about to toss it into the well when Newman stopped him.
'Let me look at that.'
He held the knife up to the moonlight and his voice was grim. This is a standard-issue commando knife. I'd like to know how he got hold of that.' He dropped it inside the well. 'While I remember, thanks for saving my life…'
'All part of the Austin Reed service. You're an idiot, you know that? Coming up here by yourself. I followed you from Athens. Had an idea what you were up to, you crazy loon.'
'You could be right. Let's make with the feet. But I discovered the secret of the mine.'
'That's what I like. A bit of melodrama. Back to the track…'
26
Florakis lowered the transceiver into the cavity, concealed it with a flat rock, picked up the shotgun he had left inside the cavity before climbing the mountain. The transceiver was heavy. Now to investigate the two cars parked on his land down by the hotel site.. .
Dawn was breaking over the Mediterranean shore, flooding the unruffled sea with a variety of fantastic colours. Behind 'the wheel of his Mercedes Nick sat smoking another cigarette. The ash tray was crammed with stubs. Disgusting. He hauled it out from under the spring clip, stepped out of the car, then reached back in for his rifle. You never knew.
Christina was curled up on the back seat like a cat, fast asleep. Nick walked quietly across to a pile of rocks, lifted a few and emptied the ash tray, then replaced the stones. Crouched over, he froze. Someone was approaching from behind the steel framework. He remained crouched, aimed the rifle.
Florakis came round the corner, shotgun held in both hands. He stopped abruptly when he saw Nick, who straightened up, rifle still pointed. 'Good morning to you,' Nick called out in Greek.
'What are you doing on my land?' snapped Florakis.
'Parking off the road. You see any damage we've done?'
'We?'
Christina had woken, had heard the exchange. Running her hands through her msne. she sat up and looked out of 'the open window. Florakis glanced in her direction, grinned lewdly and turned his attention back to Nick.
'I charge a fee for screwing on my land…'
'Watch your mouth,' Nick responded sharply. 'Who the heli are you?'
'Stavros Florakis. I own this land,' he repeated. Tin telling you to shove off now before I blow a hole in you…'
'Keep very still,' Nick warned. 'You forgot your back.'
Florakis stiffened as he felt the muzzle of Marler's rifle press into the nape of his neck. Marler nodded again at Nick, who understood. 'Place that shotgun carefully on the ground, step over it towards me. A dozen paces will do, then stop.'
Florakis bent forward, laid the weapon down, did as Nick had ordered. He stood in the open as Newman walked past him, keeping out of Nick's line of fire. He went towards the Mercedes and called out to Christina. 'Give me the mineral water. I'm parched.'
He drank from the bottle, turned round, leaned against the car. He smiled as Florakis stared back bleakly. Yes, Newman thought, this is the man we saw on our way up the gulch, the man carrying a heavy transceiver.
'What's his name?' he called out to Nick. 'I couldn't quite get it.'
'Stavros Florakis, He owns Greece,' Nick replied in English,
A tough, wiry individual, Newman was thinking. Self-contained. A typical Greek shepherd. Except that he carried a transceiver up the mountain. The lined face suggested he was in his sixties. Newman's mind wandered. In his sixties. Weren't they all – Barrymore, Kearns and Robson. And Tweed had rabbited on about the missing link
