The Angry Hills (20 page)

“Do you know what’s going to happen if you cross me, Chesney?”

“No—tell me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

Chesney sighed. “My dear fellow. That was quite hammy and entirely uncalled for. Now, see those two gentlemen across the street?”

Mike looked over Chesney’s shoulder. A pair of civilians in German-cut clothes leaned against a building feigning conversation with each other.

“Those two chaps are Gestapo. They hang about the Square just hoping British boys like you will drop in. It appears that you’ve been spotted. Now, Mr. Linden, if your brain is as large as your mouth you should have no trouble in shaking them. They are quite stupid. I’ll see you on Thursday, Piccadilly Café.”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat as Julius Chesney arose and waddled away.

TEN

M
IKE GULPED DOWN ANOTHER
half glass of
krasi.
The two Gestapo men across the street watched. He got to his feet, rubber-legged, and started to cross the square. The two men began to follow some distance behind him. Mike quickened his pace and fought off an impulse to break into a run.

He turned the corner and passed a row of shops. Halfway down the block, he paused, looked into a window on which there was a sign, Anton’s Dress Shop, and lit a cigarette.

The two Gestapo men sped around the corner and stopped abruptly when they saw Mike.

Mike looked about frantically. A tram was coming to a stop at the intersection down the block. He quickly crossed the street. The tram moved past the intersection, picked up speed and bore down toward the middle of the block where Mike stood. It came closer—closer—closer....

Mike leaped from the curb onto the tram, almost tearing his arm from its socket. He stumbled onto the rear platform as the tram rolled full speed past the pursuers.

Mike looked down the street. He saw an automobile roll to a stop beside the two Gestapo men. One of them pointed to the tram and the car began to follow a block behind him.

The tram slowed for a stop. Mike jumped off and sprinted into a dark street.

Where? Where? Where?

He was limp with fright. In the middle of the block he came to an alleyway. He could hear the car turn the corner down the block.

Mike plunged into the pitch-black alley and ran the length of it—only to hit a dead end. A fifteen-foot brick wall sealed his exit. He leaped up, but his hand fell short of the top. On the other side of the wall came the sound of barking dogs.

Mike squinted desperately into the darkness. The backs of houses faced him on both sides. A few yellow lights glinted through drawn shades. The putrid smell of garbage reached his nostrils.... A rat darted past him over the slimy cobblestones.

He flattened against the wall and drew his pistol.

At the far end of the alley he heard car doors slam, then footsteps and half-whispered orders.

Mike slunk along the wall and along some low fences past several houses. The beam of a flashlight darted into the alley. He tumbled over a fence and crouched behind it. At the end of the alley he heard another car screech to a stop.

“Is someone out there?” a voice called behind Mike.

He spun around. The back door to a house was opened.

“Englezos,” he croaked... “Englezos—help me...”

“In here, quickly,” the voice answered.

The door shut behind him. Mike fell against it panting and dizzy. A woman stood before him clad only in a kimono. “Follow me,” she said.

They turned into a long hallway. She snapped a door open. Mike reeled into the room. “Stay here,” the woman said. “I will return in a few minutes.”

He collapsed into a chair and buried his head in his hands. “Jesus... Jesus Christ...”

He lifted his head and looked around the room slowly. It was lit by a blue bulb in a lamp behind a satin-covered bed. A gaudy chaise longue was near the bed. On one wall, the usual ikon and picture of Christ. In sharp contrast, on the other walls, hung several reproductions of Greek paintings. All of them depicted naked young ladies in various stages of repose. There was an alcove beside the bed. It was partly concealed by a heavy curtain but Mike could see a sink and basin stand.

He stiffened at the sound of laughter and talk in the hallway. One voice was that of a German, the other a Greek woman’s.

Several times, doors opened and closed nearby.

Then quiet.

There was a soft tap on his door and it was opened. The woman in the kimono stepped in quickly and bolted it behind her. “Gestapo are all over the street,” she said. “They are throwing a ring around the entire neighborhood.”

Mike stood up and wiped the sweat from his face.

“You can put your pistol away. You will be safe here.”

He watched her walk to the chaise longue and stretch out on it. She was young, in her mid-twenties, and not without some beauty. She smiled at Mike. “My name is Ketty,” she said. “Be a dear and rub the back of my neck.”

He stumbled over to her. She slipped the kimono from her shoulders, baring half her bosom. Mike stood awkwardly behind her. “Don’t be bashful,” Ketty said.

She purred as his hands massaged her neck and shoulders. “That feels wonderful. We all wish so badly the Englezos were back. You were all such gentlemen. These Germans are louts. And the Macaronades! Each one thinks he is the greatest lover in the world. I’ve been working since noon,” she rambled on.... “They argue even about the little they pay. It doesn’t matter much, drachmas are dropping in value every day.”

Ketty put her kimono back on and touched her hair. “Don’t be frightened—half the German Command is here.”

“You’re very sweet, Ketty. I won’t forget this.”

“It is nice talking to an Englezos again. It was good the short time they were here. I have a little girl, you know.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. She is a very lovely child. She stays at the convent. It is quite expensive but she is a rare child—quite gifted. I’m so proud. I hope I am able to keep her there. With money meaning so little these days—I just don’t know.”

Mike peeled off a million drachmas from his roll.

“Oh, no!” Ketty protested. “I did not mean that. I would not take money from you.”

“For your daughter.”

“No—no—you will need it. You will need it for a boat to Africa.”

“Don’t argue.” He put the money on the dresser.

“You are very nice. What is your name?”

“Jay.”

“That is what I like about the Englezos. Their names are so simple.”

Their conversation stopped as a German argued with a girl outside the door.

“Dogs—dogs—always arguing. There is some wine in the night stand. Pour yourself a glass.”

“I’ve had enough to drink.”

She walked over to him and smiled. “You are a nice man, Jay. Would you like to go to bed with me?”

“I’m just not in the mood right now, honey....”

“I understand....”

A staccato knock on the door. Ketty opened it a crack and held a whispered conversation with the woman on the other side. She turned to Mike. “Soldiers outside with Gestapo. They are going to search. Get into the alcove and draw the curtain. Don’t move a muscle.”

Mike obeyed.

In another moment he heard the door open. He heard Ketty greet a man in an amorous voice. The man laughed and Ketty squealed in pretended delight as they moved about the room. The man spoke in German. He heard the smack of a kiss.

He heard the German grunting as he pulled off his boots.

The bed creaked just a few feet from where Mike stood flat against a wall. Amorous moans—kisses—the bed creaking faster...

A smashing rap on the door. “Gestapo!” a voice boomed.

Mike heard the German stumble into his trousers, sputtering oaths. The door opened.

“What the hell is this!”

“Major! Forgive us, but a British escapee is in the area.”

“Well, he isn’t in here, dammit!” The door slammed.

The hours passed. It was two
A.M.

Ketty came to the room once more and flopped to the bed, exhausted. “Those louts never go home,” she mumbled. “There are three drunks in the parlor now.... There are some of them that like to beat the girls....”

She rose and drew the curtain to the alcove and splashed cold water on her face.

As Mike began to get his bearings, he planned his next move. Obviously Lisa could not be trusted and he boiled over at the thought that she had duped him.

There was hilly country and a forest near Chalandri. He would hide out there. It was three days till Thursday and he would keep the appointment with Julius Chesney at the Piccadilly Café.

He told himself it was foolish to return to Chalandri, but he seethed with anger at himself as he realized he would try to see Lisa again.

“I’ll leave just as soon as it turns light,” Mike said.

Ketty was wiping her face with a towel. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes, in Chalandri.”

“I’d better drive you out there now, before it turns light.”

“What about the curfew?”

Ketty smiled sarcastically. “There are some things the Germans do not put a curfew on. I am allowed to travel. You are welcome to stay here, if you like.”

“It’s out of the question.”

“I’ll give you my phone number. You can never tell when you’ll need me.”

ELEVEN

F
OUR A.M.

The night was star-studded. Mike skirted the lemon grove on Lazarus’ farm. The ground began to rise at the boundary of the field. He came to a ditch.

It would be dangerous to continue without more light. A stray dog could upset everything if he crossed a strange field. The forest was several kilometers away—a good hour’s hike.

Mike scooted down into the ditch and decided to wait out the night. From the rise he could see the full stretch of the farm and the farmhouse and the outlines of the pump house.

He was still shaken from the events of the night, but he was so bleary-eyed and exhausted that he dozed off. It was close to freezing in the ditch.

Mike rolled over and blew into his hands and flexed his fingers and massaged his numbed legs. A gray tint of dawn and a rooster crowing at a nearby farm. He stumbled from the ditch and looked around. Now he could see the murky outline of the hills and the distant forest. He would chance it now.

As he glanced across the farm he heard a strange sound coming from the lemon grove. He saw a shadowy figure flitting among the trees. Then—a crack of light from the pump house.

Mike stood frozen... Ten minutes—fifteen...

A look of rage came into his face. His hand was on his pistol. He walked slowly down the rise toward the pump house.

His foot kicked against the door and it flew open.

“Vassili! Thank God!”

“Don’t thank God me, you bitch!”

Lisa fell against him sobbing. He shoved her away and she fell on a cot. He closed the door.

“You fool! You wretched fool!” she sobbed. “Nico was picked up by the Gestapo. He is in Averof Prison—Dr. Thackery is in hiding....”

She stopped, arose and came close to Mike. He leveled the pistol at her. She raised her hand and smacked his cheek. Mike smacked her back.

They glared at each other in hatred....

“The Gestapo may know of this place now,” she said. “We have another place for you.”

Mike remained motionless, his pale-blue eyes piercing her.

She stepped around him and walked to the door.

He spun around, seized her arm and pulled her close to him.

“What are you up to now?” he said, shaking her violently.

“Vassili! Vassili! I almost lost my mind!”

“Oh, Lisa... Lisa...”

Her fingers tore at his hair and she pulled his face to her lips....

“Lisa... Lisa... Lisa...”

“No, darling... No—we can’t—we can’t... It’s not safe here... The Gestapo may come....”

He scooped her into his arms and walked toward the cot “To hell with the Gestapo....”

Mike knelt beside the cot and traced the lines of her satiny body. She smiled and kissed him.

Lisa was at peace for the first time since she had known him. As for Mike, she had fulfilled his every dream and answered every unanswered question.

But it was Mike, not Lisa who showed remorse. He knew he had sentenced himself to another term of haunting loneliness. He had fallen desperately, hopelessly in love. It was all too unreal, a fantasy...

“Vassili,” she whispered, “this is shameless. It would be terribly embarrassing if the Gestapo were to pay us a visit.”

“Yes, I suppose we’d better leave.”

He helped her to her feet and their bodies pressed together.

“Are you sorry?”

“Of course not, Vassili. I love you.”

Mike and Lisa entered a brick mansion at Satovriandou, 125, in Athens. The place was empty, unfurnished and felt haunted. He followed her up three flights of a circular stairway guarded by a massive mahogany rail. The house echoed its emptiness.

On the third floor they walked down a dusty hall to a door. Lisa unlocked the door which led to another flight of stairs. The steps creaked under their weight.

She ushered him into a meagerly furnished garret.

“I must leave now.”

They embraced and kissed.

“Ill hurry back as soon as I can,” she whispered.

TWELVE

H
IS LAST CIGARETTE WAS
gone. He lay on the bed beside the slanting garret window and looked out at the hills of Athens. It was turning dark and lights began to come on.

In a way it reminded him of San Francisco.

It was very quiet in the garret. He remembered another time—the day he was in the hills looking down at Kalámai. Athens was stricken and suffering but now she looked peaceful, as though she was ready to fall into an untroubled slumber.

He closed his eyes and waited for Lisa’s return. He thought about the morning in the pump house. He was tense with wanting her...

Night.

An echo thundered through the empty house. He opened his eyes and saw the aura of lights around the city. He heard Lisa’s footsteps moving up the long circular stair. His blood boiled as they neared. The door clicked open and he felt her presence in the dark room.