Moments later they heard a sharp German voice cry, ‘Halt!’ ahead. Pressing themselves into the side of the road, they heard Mandoukis call in response. More German voices and then one man was moving towards the Cretan. Tanner could just make out that Mandoukis had his arms in the air.
‘We’ve got to kill him,’ whispered Tanner, bringing his rifle to his shoulder.
‘No,’ said Alopex, pushing the barrel away. ‘Let me.’
‘Be quick then,’ said Tanner. It was hard to see them. Dark shapes – that was all. He glanced at Alopex. Don’t miss, he thought. Up ahead the figures seemed to be moving, but then Alopex fired, the single shot cracking out sharply, the report echoing around the narrow valley. Had he hit the man? Tanner couldn’t be sure, but voices were shouting in alarm and then he heard Mandoukis jabbering. Professing his innocence, thought Tanner, bringing his rifle to his shoulder. He fired, wildly, blindly, but already a machine-gun had opened up, a rapid brurp that sent lethal darts of tracer pulsing towards them.
Alopex hissed an order to his men but not before one cried out and collapsed on the road. Tanner felt bullets hissing past him, smacking into the dirt road, as he scrambled up the bank and among the olives above them. He glanced around and saw the heavy shape of Alopex dive into the cover of the tree-lined hillside.
‘Keep moving!’ whispered Tanner, as a flare whooshed into the sky above them. It burst and crackled, bright magnesium lighting the ground around them.
‘The sons of whores!’ hissed Alopex, a few yards away, as they pushed through the dense olives. More machine-gun fire rang out, bullets thudding into the tree trunks. Tanner’s chest was tightening as he fought his way through, ducking under branches, gasping for air, legs throbbing as he climbed up the slopes through the thick grass. Another flare burst above them but, glancing back, he saw they were now out of any direct line of fire. Away to his left he glimpsed Alopex and one of his andartes.
‘Are you all right?’ he called.
‘Yes,’ came the reply, but then he heard the faint thwack of a mortar followed by its hollow whine and flung himself to the ground. A second later the shell exploded thirty yards ahead. He was on his feet again now, climbing to his right, away from where the mortar had landed. The hollow whine rang out again and he flung himself face down once more, his hands over his bare head. This time the explosion was closer, so that earth and grit showered down on him. As the rain of debris stopped, he glanced around. The light of the flare was dimming but he saw that Alopex and his andarte were still with him. He got to his feet and, a short distance above, spotted a small rocky outcrop. He pointed to it, saw Alopex nod, then scrambled towards it as yet another mortar whistled down, crashing into a tree, which split, sending not only soil into the sky but also woodchips. Diving behind the safety of the rock, Tanner clutched his head. Moments later, Alopex and his andarte were beside him.
‘You were correct,’ said Alopex, as he gasped for breath. ‘They were ready for us.’
‘Are you all right?’ asked Tanner, as another mortar whined into the sky.
‘A piece of wood in my arse, that’s all. But I had to leave Andreas.’
The mortar exploded twenty yards below them, but although they pressed themselves against the rock, they were safe from any flying shrapnel. As the clatter died down, Tanner listened. He could no longer hear any voices. The second flare had faded, so they were in darkness once more, their eyes struggling to adjust.
‘Wait a moment longer,’ whispered Tanner. He was expecting to hear another whoosh of a flare, but there was nothing. ‘Let’s move,’ he said, after several minutes had passed. Carefully, quietly, they began climbing through the grove once more, their legs swishing through the long grass. Cicadas chirruped around them and Tanner paused to wipe the sweat from his eyes, his breathing still heavy. A short while later they reached the higher road that joined the mountain villages, and turned towards Krousonas, the village glowing dimly as it nestled in the cradle of the mountains.
Tanner paused to drink from his water bottle, then cupped his hand and splashed his face, his heart still hammering. Damn it, but that had been close.
‘How could he have betrayed us?’ snarled Alopex. ‘How could he?’
‘They still have his wife,’ muttered Tanner. Not for the first time, he regretted their failure to find her the previous night. He wanted to lash out at Alopex, to yell at him for being so stupid. Damn it! Tanner knew he should never have allowed Alopex to take that shot – he should have killed the man himself while he had had the chance. No – they should never have allowed Mandoukis to reach the Germans in the first place. What had they been thinking? He should have been made to prove his innocence, not allowed to betray his guilt, and locked up out of harm’s way. We’ve been idiots, thought Tanner. And Mandoukis was still a dead man. Even if they did not shoot him there and then – even if he survived a long incarceration – his people would not forgive him for what he had done. Tanner doubted Mandoukis would be saving his wife either. The damn bloody fool. Damn it, shooting Mandoukis would almost have been a mercy killing. But instead of lying dead on the road, Mandoukis was now spilling all he knew to the enemy.
Tanner sighed wearily and slung his rifle across his shoulder. How much Mandoukis could reveal, only time would tell.
21
Oberleutnant Balthasar had woken at the sound of the shooting, swiftly got out of his camp bed and dressed, praying this had been the attack by Alopex and his men that he had hoped for. He was therefore not best pleased to learn that only one Cretan bandit had been killed and that whoever had opened fire appeared to have melted back into the night. On the other hand, at least his men had not shot Mandoukis. That was something.
The Cretan was brought before him in the company command-post tent. In the yellow half-light provided by a lone paraffin lamp, Balthasar was struck by how much the man had changed in just a few days: the growth around his face had become a rough beard, his hair and face were filthy, his cheeks gaunt and his eyes wide with fear but showing extreme fatigue. He smelt too – of piss and grime. Really, Balthasar thought, it was hard not to think of these people as inferior beings – they were little more than filthy, vicious, uncivilized animals. Balthasar could hardly bear to look at him.
The Cretan began to speak wildly. Balthasar raised his hands to silence him, turned to his interpreter and said, ‘Tell this man to be quiet. What is he saying?’
‘He wants to know that his wife is still alive, or he will not tell you anything.’
‘I hardly think he’s in any position to bargain,’ said Balthasar, then turned back to Mandoukis. ‘Let me get this straight. You joined your bandit friends and discovered they were planning an attack to free the women and child we imprisoned, so you thought you would wait and see what happened before coming back to me? It did not occur to you that, had you warned me, I might have set your wife free?’
‘He says he knew nothing about the plan. He was not with all the guerrillas at that time.’
‘Hmm. I find that hard to believe. What can he tell me now?’
‘He wants to know that his wife is safe.’
‘Yes. He will have to take my word for it, though, just as he expects me to take his.’
Relief appeared to sweep over the Cretan. As it happened, his wife was still alive, although she would soon be leaving Crete. There was no point in keeping prisoners on the island. Not only were they an unnecessary strain on resources, they were of use in labour camps in the Reich.
‘He says the attacks on Heraklion were not carried out by Cretans but by six British soldiers still on the island.’
Balthasar was certainly interested in this. It explained how they had managed to get into the town undetected. Wearing the uniforms of my men, he thought. ‘Tell him to describe them,’ he said.
‘Five of them were from a unit called Yorks Rangers. There are sixteen of them – they had sailed from Heraklion but their ship was sunk and they managed to get back to land and make thei
r way up to the mountains.’
‘What did they look like?’
Mandoukis described them, gesticulating to emphasize size and features.
‘There was an officer, a captain called Peploe. Light ginger hair, round face, medium height. There was another man – a man all the others look up to. His name is Tanner. He has medals for bravery. He is tall, with dark hair and pale eyes.’
‘I know this man,’ said Balthasar. ‘It must be the same one. I’m sure of it.’ Well, well, well. ‘And the others?’
‘There was a sergeant called Sykes. Small – an explosives expert. And two others but he does not know their names. The explosives came from one of Pendlebury’s arms dumps. He had been bringing them to Heraklion before the invasion. They were moving them out again before the British evacuated. Most of it is in a cave in the mountains, but they blew up what was left in the town.’
Balthasar nodded. ‘That explains a great deal. And what about the sixth man?’
‘Captain Alex Vaughan. He worked with Pendlebury in Heraklion. Mandoukis knows this man. He is a soldier but with a unit called Middle East Commando.’
‘So how much in the way of supplies do they still have?’
‘He thinks a fair amount. They do not have much ammunition but plenty of explosives.’
‘And where are they being held?’
Mandoukis described the cave and how to get there. ‘It’s not far. An hour’s walk from Krousonas. He does not think there are any immediate plans for them to leave this base. There are other kapitans – Manoli Bandouvas is one – but he does not know where they are based at present.’
Mandoukis was speaking again, jabbering rapidly.
‘For God’s sake,’ said Balthasar. ‘What is he saying now?’
‘The British soldiers are due to leave soon,’ the interpreter told him. ‘He says a British U-boat is coming.’
‘Where?’
‘It has not been decided exactly, but they are planning to use the monastery at Preveli. It is quite isolated down there, but there is a beach below the cliffs.’
‘And where is this place?’
‘On the south coast. A few kilometres east of Plakias and south-west of Spili.’
‘Spili? A command post is being set up there already. And when is this submarine due to come?’
‘He’s not certain. They were awaiting confirmation but hoping it would be soon, either Saturday or Sunday. The Tommies will travel to the monastery overnight, remain there for a day and leave the following night. That is the plan.’
‘That’s four days’ time.’ Balthasar clapped his hands together. ‘Good. This is all most useful.’ He stepped outside the tent. Dawn was spreading across the valley, the air alive with birdsong. He stretched. It was not only Alopex and his guerrillas who had been a thorn in his side, it was those damned Yorks Rangers too. But a plan was now formulating in his mind. A plan that would kill two birds with one stone. He smiled to himself. He would have his revenge yet.
At the cave, the mood had been tense that day, Tuesday, 3 June. No one was quite sure how much Mandoukis knew or, indeed, what he might have told the enemy. Among the Cretans there was wide-spread disappointment, anger and even incredulity that one of their people could betray them all.
‘You know how proud they are,’ Vaughan told Tanner. The captain was up and about, his arm in a sling. ‘They’re very nationalistic, fiercely independent. Cretans first, Greeks second, and slaves to no one. But now they’re waking up to the reality of the situation. Crete is occupied by the Germans. Old feuds will be reopened, men will be betrayed. Long-valued friendships will be tested and trust replaced by suspicion.’
‘It seemed so obvious to me,’ said Tanner, as they sat beneath one of the mountain oaks, the leaves offering them dappled shade. ‘Mandoukis, I mean. Even if there was only the faintest of suspicions, he should have been locked up somewhere.’
‘They didn’t want to believe it, though. It’s different for you. Until the other day you had never met Mandoukis. You could see the implications of his wife’s imprisonment and his freedom with an entirely pragmatic eye. You might have reacted the same way if this was England and one of your oldest friends was in Mandoukis’s position.’
‘Maybe you’re right, sir,’ Tanner conceded.
‘It’s taken a bit of the gloss off our venture the night before, though, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ He picked up a small stone and threw it away. ‘These people are brave, but they’re not trained. Alopex and Satanas are good leaders, I’ll give you that, and men like Alopex are prepared to fight hard and dirty, but there will always be a limit to how much irregular troops can achieve. There’s a bit of ammunition now but it won’t last. How are these people to keep going? They can’t live in the mountains for ever.’
Vaughan smiled. ‘You sound just like Pendlebury. He had exactly the same concern. It’s what he kept trying to get across to our masters in Cairo and London.’
‘And these mountains,’ said Tanner. ‘It’s all right now. It’s summer and warm, and it’s only been a few days. But it’ll be a different kettle of fish when winter comes.’
‘There’ll be snow. I worry how they’ll survive. These men are loyal enough towards the kapitans now, but will they be by January?’
‘I’ve half a mind to try and stay here, you know. I like this place. I could help them.’
‘And there’s Alexis Kristannos too.’
‘Well, yes, there is.’
‘You’d find it very frustrating, Jack. And you really do need to speak the lingo, and have the patience of a saint. It would be one disappointment after another – supplies not arriving, headstrong Cretan guerrillas doing the opposite of what you tell them, shortages of everything. You’re a fine soldier, but the liaison officers here need different skills. Military prowess is almost the least of it.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, sir. And the ammunition will soon run out. Without it, we’d not be helping at all. We’d just be extra mouths to feed.’
‘We already are. We’ve done our bit – and you have especially, Jack – but most of your men have done nothing since they arrived. Cleaned weapons, slept, eaten the guerrillas’ food – and that’s been about it. Ten men who have done nothing but eat their food. That’s why we need to get off the island as quickly as possible. The best help we can be is to keep fighting the Germans – and at the moment, that means in North Africa. I also think they hope that if they help to return lots of our stranded soldiers, we’ll give them more arms and supplies.’
‘They need to keep us sweet, eh?’
‘I think they assume so.’
Tanner wiped his brow; even in the shade and high in the mountains, it was warm. ‘And when it’s all over,’ he said, ‘I wonder how many of them will still be alive. How many villages will have been razed.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s going to be tough for them, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘And all because our commanders keep making such bloody stupid mistakes.’ He flung a stick onto the ground. ‘When are we going to get someone who’s got a bit of fire, sir? That’s what I’d like to know.’
Soon after, Alexis found him. ‘Come with me,’ she said. ‘I want to show you something.’
Tanner followed as she led him up the spur above the cave. Climbing a goat track through the thick vetch, they had soon left the secluded encampment behind.
‘We are nearly there,’ she said, taking his hand in hers. Tanner’s heart quickened, not from the exertion of the climb but from the touch of her skin on his. At last, they crested a ridge and suddenly the mountain range was spread before them all the way to the coast. And there was Heraklion, not the bomb-damaged mass of rubble, but a patch of white, dazzlingly bright against the deep blue of the Aegean. The folds and ridges of the valleys below spread away from them, while beyond, hazy in the distance, was the next great chain of mountains.
‘It’s incredible,’ he said. ‘Yours is a truly beautiful island, A
lexis.’
‘I can still believe it is a peaceful place when I’m up here,’ she said. She turned him around so that they were looking at the highest peak of the entire chain. ‘And that is Mount Ida. The birthplace of Zeus.’
Tanner followed her gaze, then clasped her shoulders, bent down and kissed her. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I first saw you,’ he said.
‘I wanted you to.’ She laughed, then placed her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him.
‘What will you do?’ he asked.
‘We have cousins in Fourfouras,’ she said, ‘on the other side of these mountains. It’s in the Amari Valley. When you leave, we will come with you.’
‘Will you be any safer there than you were in Sarhos?’
She smiled. ‘Oh, yes. When you see the Amari Valley you will understand why. It is surrounded by mountains. The valley is not really a valley at all, but a bowl. A secret bowl.’
‘And what will you do?’
‘I want to help, Jack. I have told my brother I want to be a runner for him. I know these mountains as well as anyone.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘I think he will say yes.’ She raised her mouth to his.
‘And what will he say about this?’
‘Nothing. Now you two are friends. Anyway, I do not care what he says.’ She put her hand to his cheek. ‘When I was in that prison, I thought at first that they would shoot us all. Then they told us we would be sent away, taken from Crete to a prison camp in Germany. But I would not have let them. I would have killed myself before they took me away from here. I thought my life was over, but here I am. It made me think I must make the most of what life I am given. Soon you will be gone. I would rather have a few days with you, Jack, than none at all.’
‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘And you’re right. We mustn’t die full of regrets.’
He held her face in his hands, then pushed his fingers through her hair. She looked so determined, but vulnerable, the bruising on her cheek still quite marked. He kissed her again.
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