after?”
“Yes, you got it. ‘No idea,’” said the bald man.
Andreas looked at the bearded man.
“Yes,” said the bearded man.
Andreas looked at the others in the room. “And you?”
Each man nodded yes.
Aleksander cleared his throat. “Tassos, gentlemen, have your questions been answered?”
Tassos looked at Andreas.
Andreas nodded. “Yes. For the moment.”
Aleksander said, “This is the only moment you will have. Ask now, because there will never be another chance. The slates are now wiped clean.” He looked at Tassos.
Tassos nodded yes.
“Good, thank you.” He motioned for Tassos to come over to him. When he did Aleksander pulled him down to whisper in his ear. Tassos laughed and Aleksander did the same.
Tassos turned and said goodbye to the bad guys and, still laughing, took Andreas and Kouros by their arms, swung them around, and headed toward the front door. He kicked the bar stool out of the way, stepped into the foyer, and said, “The second that door opens head left into the apartment building next door, down the stairs to the right, and out the back door. And move.”
Andreas and Kouros asked no questions. They were out one door and though the other in three seconds.
Tassos yelled as they ran toward the stairs, “Outside to the left there’s a grey Fiat with a Blue Star ferry sticker on the driver’s side rear window. Keys are under the floor mat. Yianni, you drive.”
They went through the downstairs door and out into the parking lot. “What the hell is going on?” said Andreas.
“Bomb in the van.”
“Maybe in the Fiat, too,” said Kouros.
“Sure as hell hope not,” said Tassos.
They’d just reached the Fiat when they heard the downstairs door crash open, followed by the unmistakable sound of a Kalashnikov.
Andreas pulled his gun and ducked behind the front end of a tiny pickup. “Yianni, get the car moving.”
It was the three men who’d been standing in the back throughout the meeting, one with an assault rifle and two with handguns. All were using the spray and pray method of marksmanship. Andreas was more focused, kept his eye on the front sight, and squeezed. He caught the one with the Kalashnikov in the throat. Not quite where he was aiming, but close enough. The abrupt silence startled the other two shooters, and before the one closest to the AK-47 could reach it, Andreas had put a round in his thigh. That’s where he was aiming, because he assumed they were also wearing vests. Shooter number three turned and ran back into the building. Andreas heard Kouros and Tassos yelling for him to get in the car.
Andreas jumped onto the back seat and Kouros spun the wheels on the gravel getting out of the parking lot. “What the hell were you doing back there? Couldn’t you hear us screaming for you to get in?” said Kouros.
Andreas leaned his head back against the seat. His heart was pounding. “As a matter of fact, no.” It was instinctive. His hearing had shut down at the sudden life or death confrontation. All his senses focused on eliminating the threat and nothing else. Andreas shut his eyes, drew in and let out a deep breath. “Anybody following us?”
“Not yet,” said Tassos.
“Yianni, call for backup,” said Andreas.
“I’m a little busy driving at the moment, Chief,” said Kouros.
Andreas opened is eyes, pulled out his cell phone, and hit the code for officer needs assistance. “Let them track us on GPS.”
“Tassos, what the hell did that guy tell you?” said Kouros.
“He said that no matter what he told me I should laugh all the way out the door. He said that the bald guy was a real hothead bad ass and only agreed that nothing would happen to us in the meeting. Once outside we were on our own and Aleksander was certain that by now whatever we’d come in was wired to explode. The Fiat was his final payment on a major favor owed.”
“Which was?” said Andreas.
“Let’s just put it this way, if I told you who he is-or from the way he now looks was-I will have reneged on a promise that just saved our lives.”
Andreas sat quietly for a moment. “Sometimes you are a very difficult man to understand.” He paused again. “But thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
On the trip out of Menidi no beggar stepped in front of the Fiat. They were too busy diving out of its way as Kouros swerved, sped, and slid like a drunken tourist on holiday to the Greek islands.
About a half-mile from the National Road, two police cars were waiting on the shoulder, and the cops inside were waving for them to pull over.
“Finally, reinforcements,” said Kouros.
“Don’t stop,” said Tassos. “They may not be friendly.”
“What are you talking about? We sent out a GPS distress call,” said Kouros.
“I know, but we’re no longer in distress and no reason to risk it.” Tassos looked back at Andreas. “The bearded guy in the sunglasses, he’s a cop.”
Andreas opened his eyes. “I thought he might be.”
“I don’t know him but I’m sure I’ve met him before,” said Tassos.
“Son of a bitch, I thought I recognized his voice,” said Kouros. “The beard’s a phony.”
“That’s how bald guy knew the tsigani were already dead when they were incinerated,” said Andreas.
Tassos nodded. “He’s owned by the Albanians. They probably had him here to watch out for ‘cop tricks.’”
“Then why didn’t they search us?” said Kouros.
“They were cocky,” said Tassos. “They didn’t care if we had weapons because there was a guy at each table holding a gun on us from the moment we walked in, probably shotguns and that AK-47.”
“That was the reason for the tablecloths,” said Andreas.
“Okay, but why wouldn’t the cop have them check us for a wire?” said Kouros.
“Same cocky, macho bullshit,” said Tassos. “They probably had a jammer working in case we were transmitting to someone on the outside and figured any recorder we had on us would go up in the explosion.”
Andreas leaned his head back against the seat. He drew in a breath. By now his pulse had returned to normal and his thoughts to what really counted. Lila and Tassaki foremost.
But something else, too: Punka. Son-of-a-bitch had to know more than he claimed about what was going on. His brothers must have told him something. Punka’s time on the outside was over.
“Yianni, who’s on Punka?”
“Angelo and Christina.”
“Fine, call them and tell them to bring him in now.”
Chapter Seven
Angelo was not free of prejudices. He never claimed to be. He just tried to keep his from interfering with his professional responsibilities as a cop. But Punka was making it very difficult. Angelo and his partner, Christina, had been staked out in Syntagma for hours watching Punka orchestrate a petty-crime wave in the heart of their city.
The Athens that Angelo remembered as a child had changed dramatically. Its innocence was gone. Residents no longer dared leave their front doors open, or any door or window for that matter. His mother and everyone else’s
