by Nick Vellis
“Yeah, we need gas,” John agreed, “or pack animals.”
“I was thinking, L-T. We could ask HQ to bring us some fuel when they fly in from Italy for the refugees,” Gus said. “They’d be coming out here empty.” Gus was in charge of communications for the group, and his suggestion reflected his specialty.
“Good idea, but that means we’d need to send one vehicle back to pick up the radio,” John said.
“With fuel and the radio, we’d be set L-T. Wherever we need to move, we could call in transport. The krauts aren’t gunna let us get away with this forever. Don’t get me wrong, L-T, it’s a helluva plan, but communications would really help,” Gus said.
“I was thinking we’d use pack animals when we ran out of gas, but you’re right. The radio would be a better choice. Why don’t you and Spiro take the half-track and get moving? You can catch up with us.”
“Will do, L-T.”
A few minutes later as the half-track pulled out, Rabbi Keses walked up to John and asked, “Where are they going, lieutenant?”
“They’re headed back to our base camp to pick up the long range radio,” John replied.
“Will we be ready?” the Rabbi asked.
“We’ll be ready.” John knew that he couldn’t let his own nerves show. The operation was in motion. Any doubts wouldn’t help now. The entire plan depended on everyone involved trusting his judgment. It was a lot to bear.
Thursday morning dawned and found John thinking he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Gus had returned from base camp with the long-range radio, and it was set up and working. HQ had confirmed the evacuation arrangements, supplies, and fuel were on the way from Italy. John kept going over every detail, trying to see what tiny piece was missing. He couldn’t find it, and that bothered him.
“What’s wrong lieutenant?” Rabbi Keses said, as he walked up to the American. “You look worried.”
“There’re a lot of lives on the line today, Rabbi. It’s all on me,” John replied.
“Lieutenant, you are a fine man. You do your job well, but you forget who is ultimately in control,” the Rabbi said. “Our fate is in God’s hands. He will determine our success today and answer our prayers in his own way.”
“I hope he’s listening, Rabbi,” John said. “I really hope he’s listening.” Then he heard a faint sound. He listened carefully but couldn’t identify it.
“Spiro, you see anything” John called to the man on watch on top of the hill.
Spiro waved and called out, “Nothing in sight, L-T.”
“Check 360 degrees,” Pantheras called.
Spiro slowly used his binoculars to do a complete sweep of the valley and the rail line below him, and then turned his attention to the skies. John watched him intently. After a few moments, Spiro lowered his field glasses and called to John, “L-T, it looks like a plane coming in from the west.”
John started up the hill, his own field glasses in hand. It’s too early for the planes, he thought as he climbed the hill. At the top, he joined Spiro and watched the plane grow larger.
“Kraut plane, L-T?” Spiro said.
“Well, it’s twin engine, so it’s not a Storch. I can’t make it out yet,” John replied.
He thought of telling the men to take cover, but they were out in the open with nowhere to hide. He kept watching and hoping, as did the men who watched their lieutenant and Spiro.
After a few minutes, John breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Spiro, I see one OD Gooney Bird. How about you?”
“Spiro lowered his glasses, relieved and said, “Yes, sir, one Gooney Bird coming right up.”
John waved to the anxious men below and said, “All clear, it’s one of ours.”
Twenty minutes later, the olive drab C-47 with its distinctive white stars on either side of the fuselage was on the ground. The waist door opened, and the familiar face of Sgt. George Zabt appeared.
“Anyone here call for some gas?” George Zabt said as he jumped from the door.
“What are you doing here?” Pantheras said as he greeted the big man with a hug.
“I had to come. They wouldn’t let this other passenger on without me,” Zabt said, turning back toward the door as an airsick Christos emerged from the aircraft.
“Christos! You, too? Good to see you both,” Pantheras said reaching out to shake his friend’s hand.
Christos sat down on the door’s edge and waved weakly to John but didn’t move any further.
“He insisted, L-T. Said he had to get back here in time to help. He forced his way onto the boat, and threatened the major to get on the plane and he’s been puking since we took off,” Zabt chuckled. “He’s one tough bastard, if you’ll excuse my French.”
“Well, damn. Get him down from there. We have gas to unload.”
John helped Christos out of the plane as the pilot, a tall drink of water sporting oak leaves climbed down, a .45 strapped to his web belt and a white cowboy hat firmly on his head.
“Who’s Lieutenant Pantheras?” he said.
“I am,” John replied. “Uh, I am, sir.”
George came over and helped Christos to the shade of one of the trucks. The colonel jumped down from the plane and saluted. “I’m Ted Johnson. Call me Tex,” the Air Corps Colonel said. “I’ve got orders from headquarters for you, son.” He handed John a sealed envelope. “And I’ve got a verbal message from your Major Barber back in Brindisi. He said, ‘Tell that crazy bastard to get as many of them people out as quick as he can’ because he wants you back. He’s got a medal waiting for you, and he wants to be the first to shake your hand,” Tex said. “You’ve caused quite an uproar with this little operation, lieutenant. The Brits are fighting mad ‘cause they didn’t think of it. Staff is pissed ‘cause they have to divert planes. G-2 is mad ‘cause they didn’t know what the Nazis was doin’. You have brass from Cairo to Washington all fired up. Oh, you’ve stirred up one fine mess. Well done, lieutenant.”
“Thank you, sir, I think,” John replied.
“Seriously, lieutenant, the Brits and our own G-2 have been getting reports of mass killings in camps in Poland, Germany, all over. They also got reports of the Germans killing hundreds of Italian troops in Southern Greece after Italy surrendered. It shows what the krauts are capable of, as if we didn’t know. They think the planned deportation you uncovered here is part of a larger Nazi plan. It could be big. It was a good move, you sendin’ your sergeant back to explain what was goin’ on. You’d better read those orders,” the colonel said as the two men walked away from the plane.
John broke open and read the sealed orders then looked at Col. Johnson. “Do you know what this says, Colonel?” John asked.
“I do, lieutenant. There’s gunna be a flock of planes here in just a little while. That’s why I’m here and this plane’s packed with gas. We’ll land enough planes to take every one of those refugees to Italy. We’re gunna have fighter cover, and we’re gunna do it right under the nose of those Nazi bastards,” the Colonel said with a smile. “It’s gunna be beautiful.”
“The Germans aren’t going to take this quietly, sir,” John said. “I expect we’ll have to use several locations.”
“No, I ‘spect they won’t care much for it. Look, G-2’s been real busy. They’re sayin’ the Nazis have nothing but light reconnaissance planes in Greece now. Our new fighters have the range to cover this operation, and with this area as a temporary fuel and supply depot, we can keep ‘em in the air.
“This isn’t much gas, Colonel,” John said pointing to the C-47 and the men unloading it behind them.
“No, but a whole flight of escorted C-47’s is headed this way. They can carry a lot of gas, some food and tents for the refugees, and reinforcements and ammo for you and your guys. Look, we don’t have too much time. I need to check over the landing area. Why don’t you catch up with your sergeant and your Greek buddy?”
“Yes, sir,” John said giving the Air Corps officer a smart salute. John watched the Air Co
rps colonel begin his inspection of the field. He shook his head and thought, Wowzer, is this one weird war or what?
CHAPTER 13
Tinos Ganis parked his taxi and walked into the Little Athens Café. He sat down at the table where AJ and Ceres were finishing a typically light breakfast of croissants and sweet coffee.
“Good morning, my friends. Uncle Diogenes takes good care of you, I see,” he said, waving to his uncle at the back of the restaurant. “I have much to tell. That little shit at the hotel didn’t want to talk to me, but I showed him your card and two hundred Euros,” Tinos said and smiled as he handed AJ back a wad of Euros. “I only needed two hundred,” he said. “That squirt of a manager, what a piece of crap. He said three men came in last night, asking for Mr. Jones. One of them left a message. I looked at it. There were just lines drawn on the paper,” Tinos said. “He also saw one of the men come out of your room.”
“Our room?” AJ said, looking with concern at Ceres.
“There’s more, and I’m afraid it’s bad. I called my Uncle. He’s a Deputy Director with the Hellenic Police. I know you’d never expect by looking at me that I have important relatives. Anyway, I gave him the description of the men.”
“Did he have any idea who the men were? AJ asked.
“He said one of them could be a Romanian, Alexandru Dobos.”
“A Romanian? Why would a Romanian be after us?” Ceres asked, looking at AJ.
“Dobos was Romanian secret police in the old days, the Ceausescu regime,” Tinos continued. “He’s said to work freelance now. Maybe someone hired this Dobos to kill you,” Tinos said.
“But who?” AJ said, looking at Ceres.
Ceres shrugged, his weathered face turning pale.
“One of the others is likely a local private detective, a very shady man by the name of Dranias. My uncle didn’t recognize the description of the third man. My uncle was very anxious to know more, but I told him not to ask. I expect there will be police at that hotel later today,” Tinos said.
“They will look at the video tapes and be off on some wild chase. It’s their way, but you my friends, you should leave Athens,” Tinos said. “That slime of a manager will not keep your secrets long when my cousin starts asking questions.”
Ceres, his frown getting longer, said, “You have been a big help to us my friend, but we must go on alone from here. We don’t want to get you involved.”
Tinos sat back and laughed aloud. He waved his hands in front of his face, as if to say no more then said, “What good is it to have friends if you can’t help them?”
AJ leaned forward and spoke quietly, “Tinos, you can help us one more time. We need some cell phones. They call them burn phones in the U.S. I don’t know what you call them here. And I need some .45 caliber ammunition.”
“I can get you phones, no problem. They will be clean, untraceable. How many do you want?” Tinos smiled.
“Two phones would be great,” AJ said.
“As for the bullets ….You know, in Greece it is a crime to have a pistol without proper papers?” Tinos said.
“I know and it will be expensive. How much do you think?” AJ asked.
Tinos pursed his lips and thought. Leaning toward AJ, he said, “I get phones for people all the time, the other… well that’s a different thing. I have a friend who gets anything you want, but it will cost you, together maybe $50,000 American.”
“Yeow, that’s steep,” AJ, said.
“It’s the black market my friend. You want it, you have to pay.”
“All right, I can handle that with a trip to the bank,” AJ said. “What about getting out of the city? What do you suggest?”
Tinos thought for a moment, sat back again, then looked up at the stamped tin ceiling, his eyes constantly moving. Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table. Tinos said, “These men who look for you, they would watch the airport, wouldn’t they?”
“I suppose so,” AJ replied.
“Where will you go? Leave the country?” Tinos asked.
“We still have business here. No, we won’t leave Greece yet.” AJ said, looking at Ceres for confirmation, and he got it when his friend nodded and gave him a tense smile.
“Where will you go? How will you go there, by bus, by train? There are good trains going north, if that is your destination.”
Ceres and AJ looked at each other. Why hadn’t they thought of that? “We’re headed …” AJ looked at Ceres who shrugged.
“We go north next. I just assumed we’d fly,” AJ said.
“You should,” Tinos continued, “leave as quickly as possible.”
“What other cities have airports, Tinos?” AJ asked.
“Why do you think only for airports?” Tinos said. “Greece is a small country.”
“I guess I’m just used to flying places in the states,” AJ replied, realizing his mistake.
“No. No airports. They keep detailed records at airports. No, you go by car, bus, boat, or train, no passport control. There are many places to leave from, too many to all be watched.”
Tinos was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking, and then said, “I have a cousin in Thessaloniki. I have promised her many times to visit, see her children. I can drive you north. I’ll take you there,” Tinos decided, slapping his hand on the edge of table.
“We can’t ask you to do that Tinos. How far is Thessaloniki, 500 kilometers?” Ceres said, concerned his new friend was getting in over his head.
“More like 300, but today is Friday. I will take the weekend off, and you can pay for my petrol. Besides, you aren’t asking, I’m offering,” the Greek said with a big smile.
“But first we get your phones. Are you ready to go?”
“Sure. Let me settle up with your uncle for breakfast,” AJ said.
“No, today your meal is at the home,” Tinos said.
“What?”
“He means on the house,” Ceres said.
“Oh. Well, let me go thank him then,” a surprised AJ said.
Ceres and AJ went to the kitchen and, after a couple big hugs and a standing invitation to come back to Café Athens, the two men took off with Tinos.
After a quick stop at AJ’s bank for cash, Tinos took them to the Agora, a market near the base of the Acropolis. As they entered the teeming market, a flood of smells and sounds assaulted them. Hundreds of stalls spread before them offering olives, spices, vegetables, breads, cheeses, meats, and fish, all fresh. Beyond the food vendors, there were rows of stalls with everything from electronics to clothes. The frenetic scene seemed set to the music that played from competing boom boxes at nearly every stall.
Singing, clarinets, and bouzouki music filled the air. Anything anyone could want was here and available for the right price with just a little haggling.
Tinos led the two men through the maze of stalls, and down a narrow alleyway to a battered old door at the end of an alley. AJ, his money belt stuffed with cash, was more than a little apprehensive. Tinos went up to the rusted metal overhead door and banged hard, shouting, “Yassou se, Tinos.”
AJ looked around, worried the commotion would bring the wrong kind of attention, but the hum of the market and the blare of the music masked the sound. Finally, the door groaned opened to reveal a wizened elderly man whose frown quickly disappeared when he saw Tinos. The man gave Tinos a big hug and kissed each cheek while talking in frantic in Greek. The elderly man suddenly realized Tinos was not alone and gave his two companions the evil eye. Tinos spoke quickly in Greek and, with a disapproving grimace, the man motioned for them to come inside.
“This is Dimitri. He’s a good friend. He will help you with what we need.”
In rapid Greek, Tinos described what they needed and Dimitri, muttering as he walked away, disappeared into the cavernous warehouse.
“We can trust him?” AJ asked.
“You can, and I do,” Tinos replied coldly. “Dimitri was my father’s closest friend.
AJ didn’t press the matter.
Turning to AJ, he said, “These are anonymous phones. They have 150 hours each. These are replacement SIM cards.” He held up the two small blue plastic squares. “Exchange the cards between the phones and you will be practically untraceable. You can pay Dimitri. It’s 1,000 Euros, that’s about $1296 for each phone and 25,000 Euros, that’s…$35,000 for the ammunition. It is forbidden to sell ammunition without the proper papers you understand.”
“I understand he has his costs and risks, but that’s too much. Tell him 500 each for the phones and 5,000 for the ammo,” AJ said.
When Tinos had translated, Dimitri scowled and responded to Tinos, who translated for AJ.
“Dimitri says you are new to this. You should have gone lower,” Tinos said.
When AJ looked Dimitri in the eye, the old merchant smiled a toothy grin, nodded, and said, “Nai.”
Tinos laughed and turning to AJ, said, “He accepts.”
AJ handed over the money and extended his hand in thanks to Dimitri. He looked at AJ, then turned and walked away. AJ looked at his extended hand said to Tinos, “What’s with him? I just gave him a lot of money. He could at least shake my hand.”
“Do not worry about Dimitri. He doesn’t trust strangers. The bullets worry him. It will be all right. Come, let’s go,” Tinos responded.
They walked back through the market to Tinos’ taxi. Thirty minutes later, they were headed north along National Highway A1 hugging the Aegean coast, bound for Thessaloniki. Ceres, in the front passenger seat, wove tales for Tinos about his wartime experiences and growing up in the hills. He was careful to leave out any reference to the missing fortune. AJ just listened as the miles rolled by.
When Ceres had finished his story, Tinos asked, “Where’ll you start your search when we reach Thessaloniki?”
“I’ve given that a good deal of thought,” AJ responded. “I think we should start with the synagogue.”
“The synagogue?” Tinos exclaimed. “What can you find there?”