Nest of Spies

by Geoffrey Davison

  ‘No fuss, no publicity,’ Fletcher muttered. ‘Another incident nipped in the bud.’

  ‘That about sums it up,’ Spencer agreed.

  The yacht gave a final shudder and went over on one side.

  ‘All that expensive equipment,’ Fletcher said sadly.

  ‘Yes,’ Spencer agreed, ‘but it wouldn’t surprise me if some of our naval boys came and did a bit of salvage work. The war office is rather keen to have a look at some of that stuff.’

  He gave Fletcher a knowing look.

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Fletcher said brightly. ‘I wouldn’t like to think of Sleitser’s work in hiding the boat and collecting the equipment together, being entirely wasted.’

  ‘Oh! Don’t worry yourself about Dr Sleitser, Fletcher. He is the only one who has enjoyed himself. As for the boat…’ Spencer shrugged. ‘Well, it was anchored off Trieste a week ago. It then went to Portoros for a day, then to Dubrovnik, and finally to Serifos. Of course on the way it called at Durres to pick up the stores.’

  Fletcher looked at him with surprise. Spencer was hiding his amusement behind a handkerchief as he mopped his brow.

  ‘Well!’ Fletcher exclaimed. ‘How the devil…?’

  ‘Oh, a friend in the Yugoslav Embassy gave me the tip off.’

  ‘And Sleitser has actually been carrying out his archaeological workings.’

  ‘Yes, so I am told. It appears he became very interested in the subject when he was here with the German army. When he was captured by the Russians at Peenemunde he studied it in earnest. After his release he continued his studies at Bonn University. A year ago he applied for permission to bring a small expedition to Delos to search along the Sacred Way for temple remains. However, when his background came to light I can only presume he was offered Serifos instead, on the understanding that he co-operated. No doubt the finances of his expedition were met by the Greek Government. So all things considered I think Dr Sleitser has little to complain about.’

  ‘And I thought the coaster was bringing in the weapons,’ Fletcher mused.

  ‘That’s probably what they wanted the Turks to believe, although I can hardly imagine them being that susceptible. Actually, I am told that Dr Sleitser shipped out quite a number of useful mosaics and marble statues, so no doubt they went via the coaster.’

  ‘You say you don’t think the Turks would have been quite so susceptible,’ Fletcher said, ‘but surely they must have been. Obviously they suspected trickery, but if they knew about the yacht, why the devil go ahead at all?’

  Spencer smiled.

  ‘Do you see those two naval vessels over there?’ he asked. ‘One is Greek, the other is Turkish. They are about two hundred yards apart. Now it wouldn’t surprise me if at this very minute each of them is trying to put a limpet mine on the hull of the other. It is as bad as that. They don’t really want to kill each other so much as to put one over on the other.’ He sighed. ‘As for our little incident — well it is a form of Russian roulette. They point the gun, pull the trigger and if all is well they chalk one up to themselves. The Turks knew the Greeks wouldn’t allow Rassitz to get away with a boat load of missiles from under their very noses, but they thought they could outsmart them. And they did! Don’t forget, if it hadn’t been for you and Mario, Rassitz would be well on his way to Cyprus.’

  ‘I am surprised the Turkish Government are prepared to take such risks,’ Fletcher said.

  ‘Oh! They don’t,’ Spencer replied. ‘They are very clever. Two days after Rassitz left Turkey his Government disowned him. They publicly denounced him. They even had the nerve to call in the Greek Ambassador and warn him that Rassitz would probably be stirring up trouble.’

  ‘So if he failed in his bid they would have no case to answer,’ Fletcher said.

  ‘Precisely,’ Spencer agreed. ‘Even if he succeeded they would still disown him, but he would have produced a fait accompli. Whether the Turkish Government recognised him or not, he still had to be reckoned with.’

  ‘So they couldn’t lose?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘No,’ Spencer said. ‘They couldn’t.’

  ‘Well, at least it is good strategy.’

  ‘Very good.’

  ‘What about the Greeks? Were they in the same position?’

  ‘A very similar one,’ Spencer said thoughtfully, ‘but slightly more vulnerable. Zonakas, as you know, acts in an unofficial capacity for them. He thinks up their grandiose schemes and if they succeed the government adopts them as their own. If they fail they just deny his existence. He has no official capacity.’

  ‘But they had more to lose than the Turks,’ Fletcher persisted.

  ‘Yes, I agree, but under their very noses.’ Spencer put up his hands in disgust. ‘They were entitled to think they could get away with it. My God! There must be some red faces about.’

  ‘What will happen to Zonakas and Ikarios now?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘Ikarios will be spending the rest of his service days on Crete. He will not be seen again on the mainland, I can assure you. As for Zonakas. Well, he will have performed his last unofficial service for his Government. They wouldn’t dare risk him again. It’s a pity, really, because I suppose we will have to get to know the next chap they appoint! Perhaps you could make use of Zonakas.’

  Fletcher didn’t answer straight away. His feelings towards Zonakas were less friendly than Spencer’s. Zonakas had been prepared to send Mario and himself to a watery grave. Fletcher wouldn’t forget that in a hurry, and he shuddered to think what would happen if Zonakas and Mario came face to face.

  ‘I don’t think that would be very practicable,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Only a thought,’ Spencer said. ‘Got to make use of anyone these days.’

  Fletcher changed the subject.

  ‘It looks as if we are the only ones who have come out of it unscathed. I don’t think the Communists are going to be too pleased with Veti.’

  ‘I’ll reserve my judgment until I have seen a report on the cargo Rassitz was carrying. It’s my hunch that it’s a lot of hogwash. The Russians may have invented this form of roulette, but they stopped playing it a long time ago, so have the Albanians. Either Veti was building up his own nest egg or the Albanian treasury received an inflated payment for something they didn’t want.’

  ‘What about the technicians?’

  ‘Very impressive,’ Spencer agreed, ‘and very convincing, but I bet they would have vanished into thin air the moment they landed on Cyprus.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ Fletcher muttered. Spencer was a sceptic and a diplomat. He saw everything as a move and a countermove, a threat and a bluff, but Fletcher didn’t go along with him all the way. Fletcher worked on the ground, in the thick of the danger. Rassitz was real enough, so was Ikarios, and so was Veti. No, he felt certain the Communists had tried to stir it up on Cyprus. Veti certainly wouldn’t risk doing a private deal. Fletcher knew the way the K.G.B. worked as well as his own organisation. Veti would have never lived to spend the money.

  ‘I think you will find a boat load of very valuable guided missiles, made in Hungary or Czechoslovakia, and a further stock pile in Durres waiting to be picked up,’ he said quietly.

  Spencer was slightly taken aback by Fletcher’s serious tone.

  ‘You may be correct, Fletcher,’ he said, ‘but you are not implying that the Communists instigated the whole thing, are you?’

  ‘No,’ Fletcher said. ‘They came in the side door. Zonakas thought it all up. Pula was his go between. I think if you check back on him you’ll find he has worked for the Communists before. But the Communists don’t like being used, and when they found out he was double dealing them, they killed him and dealt direct with Rassitz. If they hadn’t been so interested they would have pulled out. The fact that they stayed in the game makes me think they were heavily committed.’

  ‘You have a point there,’ Spencer agreed rather begrudgingly. ‘Very fortunate for Rassitz.’

  ‘Yes, but Rassitz
suspected the Greeks and wasn’t unduly worried where the goods came from.’

  Spencer sighed.

  ‘Well, it is all over now. I think I might even take a few days off and get away from this damned heat. By the way,’ he added, ‘who was that priest who delivered your message?’

  ‘What priest?’ Fletcher asked seriously, ‘I don’t know any priests.’

  Spencer saw the stubborn look on Fletcher’s face and knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of him.

  ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘I was probably mistaken.’

  Fletcher purposely let the matter pass, and cast a last glance at the two destroyers, and wondered what Salunda was thinking.

  As they walked away from the rails, Mario joined them. He looked at the open sea.

  ‘Has it gone?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Spencer muttered, ‘about ten minutes ago.’

  Mario frowned.

  ‘You know you could have saved that yacht if you had come at full speed,’ he said seriously.

  ‘Yes, I agree,’ Spencer said, ‘but…’ He paused and looked at Fletcher, but Fletcher had gone. He was on his own. ‘Yes, I agree,’ he said, resigned to another long discussion, ‘but it saves a lot of embarrassment this way…’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fletcher lay on his bunk and through a porthole watched an ocean liner nose its way slowly into the harbour. It was four days since they had been picked up by Spencer and taken to Serifos to collect their boat.

  The diplomatic world of the Balkans had restored its equilibrium and was at peace. Spencer had gone off to the mountains for a few days’ rest, and the Ambassador was tying up the final details for the conference.

  Fletcher’s world was also quiet. The heat at the height of the summer discouraged a brisk underworld of activity. But if his business activities were peaceful, Fletcher himself was very restless. After the excitement, the calm was an anti-climax.

  For three days they had remained in the crowded Piraeus harbour. After the first taste of a life ashore, the novelty became a bore. The hotels looked even more shabby than before, the bars more sleazy, and the girls less attractive. Mario was itching to be off, anywhere, so long as they were on the move, but Fletcher was reluctant to leave. He wouldn’t give a reason for wanting to stay and wouldn’t even confess to himself that he had one. All he would promise was that they would leave after a few days.

  He lit a cigarette and contemplated leaving his bunk to watch the visitors disembark, but talked himself out of it. He heard footsteps pad across the deck and was surprised that Mario had returned so soon. But the steps were not Mario’s! Instantly he became alert. He knew Mario’s steps, these were not his, they were too gentle.

  In a flash he was off his bunk. He didn’t like visitors; it usually meant trouble. He crossed over to the steps leading to the deck and met his visitor full on — it was Salunda!

  ‘You!’ he gasped.

  She smiled. The provocative, teasing smile she had shown the last time she had been on his boat. Fletcher continued to gape. It was a different Salunda from the one he had known before. Her black hair hung loosely on her shoulders; her face looked happy, free from any strain or fears. She was wearing a colourful dress which matched her mood and accentuated the curves of her body. In her hand was a small grip bag.

  ‘Surprised?’ she asked.

  Fletcher gave his usual nervous cough and dropped his eyes.

  ‘Well, yes,’ he mumbled in his deep gravel voice. He quickly got over his embarrassment. ‘Come in,’ he said, and stood to one side.

  She entered the cabin and sat on one of the bunks.

  ‘I have come to thank you,’ she said.

  Fletcher sat opposite her and admitted to himself the real reason why he had been reluctant to leave Piraeus. He had been secretly hoping she would return. It had seemed very unlikely, but whilst there had been only the slimmest of possibilities he hadn’t wanted to give up.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said apologetically. ‘What did you say?’

  She smiled at him.

  ‘I have come to thank you,’ she said again, ‘and the British Government.’

  Fletcher coughed and looked away.

  ‘Well, I can’t speak for the British Government,’ he said hastily, ‘I have no idea how they became involved.’

  ‘But they are very much involved,’ she persisted. ‘Not only did they send their navy to stop Rassitz, but they have also smoothed out all the troubles at the diplomatic level.’

  ‘Have they by Jove,’ Fletcher muttered.

  She gave him a look of mock horror.

  ‘Don’t you know, Stefan?’ she asked.

  Fletcher looked at her and realised she was teasing him. She started to laugh, and Fletcher joined her.

  ‘Seriously, Stefan,’ she said, ‘my father and I do thank you.’

  ‘Who is your father?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘Dr Mohmad Izmad,’ she said.

  ‘Deputy leader of the Turkish Cypriots?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Salunda said, and added sadly: ‘If only they had listened to him at the very beginning it would have saved a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Why didn’t they?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘Rassitz had friends in Cyprus and Turkey. Powerful friends.’ She shrugged. ‘It is the way of the world. If you talk peace, you are a weakling. If you talk of war and fighting, you are a brave, strong man. So they listened to Rassitz and not my father. Now at the conference they will have to listen to my father and our leader. There is no Rassitz.’

  ‘So you came along to protect your father’s interests?’ Fletcher asked.

  She gave a rueful smile.

  ‘It rather looked that way,’ she said. ‘The Turkish Ambassador in Athens is a distant relation of my mother’s. We persuaded my father to let us come to Athens to watch developments. I can be very persuasive and my father finally agreed.’ She dropped her eyes. ‘Also Kasim wanted to prove himself to my father. He believed in my father. I think it was only because of Kasim that my father permitted us to come. When we arrived here, we engaged Kronos to go to Serifos to see if anything suspicious developed.’

  ‘And the name Lofer?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘That was the code name given to the operation by the Turks. We also used it. It is short for Loferbraun.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Did Kronos find anything?’

  ‘He came across Dr Sleitser and learned about the secret mineshaft down to the cave. It was used by the Germans during the war.’

  ‘That was all?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘That was all he told us,’ Salunda said. ‘We got a message from him saying he had something important to tell us, but what it was we never found out. He never turned up at the meeting we arranged.’

  No, thought Fletcher, because Zonakas had got to him first and bribed him to keep quiet. But when Fletcher had appeared on the scene, they couldn’t trust him to remain silent so they had killed him.

  ‘Then you turned up,’ Salunda added.

  ‘So you used me as bait,’ Fletcher said with a smile.

  She looked embarrassed.

  ‘That was Rassitz’s idea. He was in command then. It was important that I didn’t upset him at that stage. Kasim didn’t agree, and he went on his own to see what he could find.’

  ‘What did he expect to find?’ Fletcher asked.

  She made a despairing gesture.

  ‘Anything, nothing,’ she said. ‘Kasim thought the Greeks, or the Communists, were instigating the whole plot. He thought they would have some of their men in the town or watching Sleitser’s camp. He hoped to bring back proof that would make Rassitz return to Turkey.’

  ‘Instead he met some of Rassitz’s men and they killed him,’ Fletcher said sadly.

  ‘Yes,’ Salunda agreed, ‘but I didn’t learn this until it was too late, or I would have avenged Kasim myself.’

  ‘Rassitz is dead,’ Fletcher said. ‘He can do no more harm.’

  ‘Yes, he is
dead,’ she muttered and then looked up brightly. ‘And what are your plans, Stefan? Where do you go to now?’

  He hesitated before replying. He knew what he would like to do. He would like to take the Tonos and Salunda away from Piraeus, away from heat and crowds. Away to one of Mario’s idyllic islands, where they could be alone together.

  He looked at her and their eyes met. There was an appealing look on her face. He felt a tightening in his throat. Could she possibly be feeling the same way? Was that why she had returned? He found himself moving over to her. She stood up to meet him.

  ‘I know what I would like to do,’ he whispered hoarsely.

  ‘Tell me,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Later,’ he said quietly and took her in his arms…

  In a small bar overlooking the harbour, Mario gave a sudden cry of delight. He stood up, abruptly, and the girl who had been sitting on his knee fell ungracefully to the floor.

  ‘Ho! Ho!’ he chuckled, a broad grin on his face.

  ‘Well!’ the girl snapped. ‘You might have warned me.’

  Mario ignored her and gazed across the harbour to where he could see the Tonos moving slowly away from its moorings. He gave another chuckle. He had seen Salunda go aboard and had waited the outcome with interest. Now he had got his answer.

  He grabbed the girl and smacked her playfully.

  ‘Get another bottle,’ he said jubilantly. ‘We are going to celebrate.’

  ‘Celebrate?’ the girl asked. ‘Celebrate what?’

  ‘My farewell,’ he said secretively.

  ‘Your farewell?’ she asked. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Never mind,’ he chuckled. ‘Fetch the bottle.’

  The girl did as she was told, but when she returned Mario had gone. In his place was a ten drachma note. She picked up the note and shrugged. She wasn’t interested in Mario any more. Nor was he with her. He was more concerned about catching the ferry which was preparing to leave the harbour.

  *****

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