The Angry Hills (15 page)

“Leave the room!” Leonidas commanded.

He turned to Mike at last. For the first time Mike saw traces of age and weariness. The giant’s shoulders stooped and he heaved a sigh through his coarse beard.

“Sit down and eat, Jay. I go to Dernica as soon as I have time.”

“When?”

“All right—I go tomorrow.”

NINE

E
LEFTHERIA FELT TERRIBLY ILL
-at-ease in her new city dress and city makeup as she stood in the inspection line at the Larissis Terminal in Athens. Before and behind her were tired city people returning from their scouring of the countryside in search of food.

Her fingers toyed nervously at the latch of the new purse as the line crept toward the desks where German, Italian and Greek inspectors examined travel passes and the sacks and cases the travelers carried.

At last she came before the inspector’s desk. A German in civilian attire. She placed her travel pass before him. He looked up and stared at her. She was a pleasant change from those coming through and his look was more in lust than curiosity. Eleftheria avoided his eyes.

“Your business!” he said sharply.

“I visit relatives,” she answered almost inaudibly.

He motioned for her purse and turned its contents over on the table. Among other things, a large roll of drachmas fell out.

“This is quite a sum of money.”

She did not answer.

“Your occupation?”

“I am the wife of a farmer.”

“It seems that all you farmers are coming to Athens with fortunes these days.”

She worked hard at containing the uneasiness that flooded her.

“Open your travel bag,” the inspector demanded.

He poked through it. It was largely filled with undergarments and other types of things city girls wore. She had purchased them in Dadi as Jay had told her to do.

“You may close it.”

He handed the travel pass back and looked wearily down the long line of travelers yet to pass his station. He lit a cigarette and smiled at the girl. “And where will you be staying in Athens, young lady?”

She paused for several seconds.

“I stay with my aunt.”

“And—uh—how would you like to see the city with me?”

“My husband waits for me at my aunt’s.”

“Pass on! Next!”

She walked through the crowded terminal reading the many directions signs. It was all very strange and exciting and frightening. Eleftheria had been to the capital but once before and that was many years ago. Her anxiety threw a ring of solemnity about her that warded off the many amorous glances she was getting from German and Italian soldiers.

She stepped outside and looked around. A long line of taxicabs stood in wait. She took one.

As the taxi moved out, Eleftheria feigned indifference to all the amazing things that were happening. The big city and the many buildings—the car she was riding in. She had been in an automobile only three times before in her life—although she had had several rides in her Uncle Christos’ truck.

“I would like you to take me to the American Archeological Society,” she said.

The cab wove away from the congestion around the terminal and raced due east across town on the broad Leophoros Alexandrou. She tried to relax and remember the many instructions Jay had given her. She must carry out the job to perfection, she thought.

After several moments they made a right turn and drove alongside a wooded area that went through the northern portion of the plush Kolonaki section.

The cab drove slowly past many buildings, the American hospital, the former British schools and a network of other institutions. On the fringe of these buildings the cab came to a halt. It faced an ordinary-looking two-storied red brick building.

The driver had seemed irritated by Eleftheria’s uncommunicativeness during the drive but his face broke into a smile over her generous tip. Anyone connected with the Americans always tipped well.

The cab pulled away. Eleftheria bit her lip. She faced an iron gate that was locked across the driveway. Her heart pounded. She saw an open entrance, a short path leading to the house. She moved toward it with the feeling that she was walking on hot coals.

She pushed open the mammoth door and stood in a reception room filled with statues and paintings and odd bits of marble. There were many framed documents on the walls that she could not read. The room was large and airy and dark and stiff and added to her discomfort.

A middle-aged woman, obviously not Greek, sat behind a small counter with earphones on her head. There was a desk and many papers scattered on it. Eleftheria approached with great caution. The woman looked up and asked, “May I help you?”

“I—I wish to see Dr. Harry Thackery,” she whispered.

“Your name, please?”

“My name is Eleftheria.”

“Eleftheria what?”

“Eleftheria Yalouris.”

“Do you have an appointment with the doctor?” the woman asked, looking inquiringly at the uncomfortable peasant girl before her.

“No. He does not know me.”

“Just a moment, please,” the woman said. She rose from behind the counter and disappeared behind a large double door that led down a long corridor. Eleftheria thought it strange that a woman could sit in this room and smoke a cigarette—but so many strange things were happening...

The receptionist returned.

“I’m sorry. Dr. Thackery cannot see you.”

Eleftheria fidgeted with her handbag and shifted her weight several times. Why does this woman look at me so, she thought. She tried to think of what Jay had told her.

“When can I see him?” That was the right thing to say.

“I’m afraid he is very busy. He is preparing an expedition for some diggings.”

She remembered that as a small child she had seen some foreign men digging around Dernica. Before the war foreigners always came to dig all over the province. There was always talk of it.

“But—but—I have traveled all the way from Dadi. It is very important.”

There was a buzz from the odd box on the desk. The woman stopped the buzz by sticking a piece of metal attached to a cord into the little hole. The door opened and two men who were not Greeks came into the room and sat down and looked at magazines.

The receptionist looked up to see Eleftheria still standing in front of the counter.

“Just what do you want to see Dr. Thackery about?”

“It is a personal matter and one of great importance—and I have come a long way.”

The woman shrugged and once again disappeared behind the double doors. She returned. “Follow me, please,” she said. The woman marched briskly down the long carpeted hallway past several doors with little brass name plates on them, turned sharply, and opened one and motioned Eleftheria in. She closed the door behind the girl.

The room was in semi-darkness. The long drapes were drawn. The room was stiff and paneled and Victorian. The only light was a small desk lamp. A man sat behind the desk. He looked gaunt and was pasty in complexion. His hair was thinning and his face was bony. He stared at Eleftheria coldly.

“You wish to see me?” his voice said in a monotone.

“You are Dr. Harry Thackery?”

“That is correct.”

She bit her nails and thought very hard to relay Jay’s exact words.

“A very good friend of mine,” she started, trembling, “stays in the house of my cousin. He wishes to come to Athens. He told me that a mutual friend said to come to see you.”

“Sit down, girl.”

She edged into a stiff mahogany chair in front of his desk and now she could fully see this zombie-like man.

“Where does this friend of yours stay?”

“He stays in Kaloghriani.”

“Kaloghriani?”

“Yes. It is a village that is very remote. It is in the province of Larissa.”

The man opened his thin lips. “Tell me about this friend of yours.”

“He is a British soldier. One from New Zealand.”

Thackery’s face remained frigid. “You are talking to the wrong person, young lady. If your friend is a British soldier it would be against the law to bring him to Athens. America is not at war with Germany, and I am an American.”

“But my friend says...”

“I’m sorry. I can be of no help to you. I would advise you to leave Athens. This sort of thing can get you into a great deal of trouble.”

Eleftheria arose, puzzled. She started to walk toward the door then turned, her eyes beginning to well with tears. “But—your mutual friend—a man from Scotland...

Silence.

Eleftheria felt her flesh crawl under the steady stare from the weird-looking man who sat half-shadowed behind the desk.

“Why does your friend wish to come to Athens?”

She felt a funny dryness in her mouth as she opened her lips to speak. “He told me to tell you he has seventeen excellent reasons why he wishes to come here.”

Thackery rose from his chair. “Remain here. I shall return in a moment.”

He was not tall and he was not short but his thinness made him appear tall. Eleftheria felt heady and confused and she wanted very badly to get on the train and return to her village and have no more to do with these strange people. She was sorry she had ever come to Athens.

Dr. Harry Thackery stepped across the hall to another office. A man named Thanassis sat with earphones on his head. He stood up when he saw Thackery.

“You heard her,” Thackery snapped. “What do you think?”

“It is Morrison, all right,” Thanassis answered.

“Thank God he’s still alive. I’ve all but given up hope.”

“We need that information desperately,” Thanassis said. “What about that girl in there?’

“Are our traveling companions outside?” Thackery asked, referring to the Gestapo who now kept constant watch on his movements.

“They’re there, as usual.”

“Better order a car. We’re going to have to slip that girl out. We can’t take the risk of having them pick her up. Have someone contact Lisa to meet us at Papa-Panos’. I’m sending her up to get him immediately.”

Part 3

ONE

L
ISA
K
YRIAKIDES LISTENED INTENTLY
as Dr. Harry Thackery recited the instructions.

Lisa thought the whole mission odd indeed and too shrouded in mystery and unsaid things. It was the first time that Dr. Thackery had withheld any details from her. But Lisa knew, in the very short time that the Underground had formed, that unquestioning discipline was a requisite. She did not question him; at the same time, she didn’t like it.

To travel to far-off Larissa to bring down a lone British escapee was too much to swallow. Perhaps he is an officer of high rank or some functionary in the new Underground—perhaps he was no escapee at all, Lisa thought.

Thackery opened his thin lips...

“You will leave for Dadi tonight. Once there, a girl named Eleftheria Yalouris will meet you. She will travel with you to a village named Kaloghriani. She will introduce you to a man you will know only as Vassili.

You identify yourself as Helena. You are not to question him.”

Lisa nodded and studied his stone face.

“Our people in Dadi will arrange his travel pass, papers and change his appearance. They will pass payoff money on the train he rides. You are to spare nothing in your power to insure his safety. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Lisa whispered.

“Once you arrive in Athens take him to Lazarus’ and contact me immediately.”

“Very well.”

“Are there any questions?”

“I believe I understand everything.”

Lisa repeated the instructions and checked her papers and money.

Papa-Panos, the little priest, entered the room. “Come, children,” he said. “It is time to eat.”

“Yes,” Dr. Thackery said. “I’d better eat and get along. I wouldn’t want my two German friends to stand outside in the rain too long.”

They walked from the room toward the kitchen. Before they entered, Dr. Thackery turned suddenly and faced the woman. “Lisa, you seem upset today. Is anything wrong?”

“Wrong? No—no—of course not.”

“One more thing, Lisa. In the event that something goes sour, if capture seems imminent—you are to kill him. He is not to be taken alive by the Germans.”

As they entered the kitchen Lisa’s mind was spinning a plan furiously. A plan that could save her children—but would make her a traitor to her own people.

Konrad Heilser groaned, sprawling into a sitting position on the couch. His head throbbed. His eyes were bleary and bloodshot. He half-staggered to the huge marble-topped desk and slumped into the big swivel chair. A picture of his plump homely German wife and three plump homely German children stared at him. He shoved the picture into the top drawer of the desk and withdrew an envelope of headache powders.

What a party it had been! But was it worth the agony now? He mixed the powder and drank it down, screwing up his face. Greek headache powders. They can’t do anything right.

Zervos, the fat swine, had thrown a four-day orgy to celebrate the acquisition of his new apartment house. Zervos kept a ten-room penthouse, built and furnished in ultra-modern style and hideously scrambled with ancient art works standing alongside surrealist pieces. It was the museum of a madman.

Everyone in the High Command had showed up. Zervos had suddenly become very popular with his gifts and backslapping and coddling and favors. His extortion game against wealthy Greek families had skyrocketed him into a fortune overnight.

Ah! But the whores! Zervos knows his whores, Heilser admitted to himself. A smile crossed Heilser’s lips as he remembered the party. A new woman he had found there had turned out very well—much better than the other three.

Then Konrad Heilser’s smile turned to a scowl. Zervos, the lout! A scummy government clerk. Zervos was getting too big, too fast. He was currying the favor of everyone with promises of more fabulous parties. Everyone was seeking Zervos now—the fat lout.

He’d lay the law down to Zervos, show the Greek pig who was who. Zervos had promised ten million drachmas a month to Heilser so that he could run his little extortion game. Heilser would demand double that.

But Heilser knew that Zervos had grabbed too much power. He also knew the fat man was too valuable to be disposed of. He had his finger on everything. And there would be ten million drachmas a month coming in. Heilser decided that Zervos would stay, but he’d keep him under control—he’d damned well do that.