Greek Odyssey

by Carolyn Keene

  With his free hand Mick grabbed on to the same triangular wedge Nancy had used, and he pulled himself up. He huddled beside her, his face grimy with sweat and dust.

  And not a moment too soon. Suddenly the voices were loud and clear, and Nancy knew that the strangers had reached this end of the tunnel. She sank back against the wall as two figures, a man and a woman, entered the rocky chamber below her.

  In the pale light that filtered in from the opening above, Nancy could see a short, brawny man with jet black hair and a nasty red scar that stretched from his chin to his ear on the right side of his face. He was wearing shorts, which were sopping wet. Seeing his muscled arms and chest, Nancy knew that he would be a formidable opponent.

  The woman was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit. Small-boned and petite, she had short red hair that was slicked back with water. Her features were plain, though something about her seemed familiar to Nancy. Since she was also wet, Nancy guessed that they had just been swimming.

  The couple appeared to be arguing as they pulled clothes out of two of the knapsacks. Nancy wondered if the owner of the third knapsack was nearby.

  Although she couldn’t understand anything the couple was saying, Nancy noticed that the man kept repeating “shara.” She made a mental note to ask Zoe if she knew the word. Her ear for languages told Nancy that these people weren’t speaking Greek. The rhythm and tone of the language was different from the conversations she had heard at the hotel and in Chora.

  A glance at Mick told Nancy that he was studying the couple just as closely as she was. What are we going to do? she wondered. If the couple moved toward the back of the cave, she and Mick might have a chance to slip out through the tunnel without being noticed. But it wouldn’t be that easy.

  The red-haired woman pulled a towel from her knapsack and marched toward the tunnel. Unfortunately, the man didn’t seem inclined to follow her. Resigned to settling in, Nancy shifted her legs.

  Suddenly she felt herself sliding. Panic cut through her like a sharp knife. Pebbles and dirt scattered to the ground as Nancy grappled to keep her balance. But it was too late. Alerted by the falling pebbles, the woman looked up—right at Nancy and Mick.

  Gritting her teeth, Nancy dropped to the ground. She landed just a few feet from the surprised woman. Any hope of a friendly reception was immediately dashed when the woman assumed a fighting stance. With a fierce cry she squared off and aimed a karate chop right at Nancy’s face!

  Thinking fast, Nancy dodged the blow, wheeled, and landed a kick to the woman’s chest, knocking her to the ground.

  The man was scrambling near the knapsack, probably looking for a weapon, Nancy thought.

  Before he could act, Mick leapt to the ground beside Nancy. “Out we go!” he shouted, pulling her toward the tunnel. Not daring to look back, Mick and Nancy raced through the narrow passageway as quickly as they could.

  When they reached the cave’s entrance, Nancy turned away from the flat, sandy beach and darted behind a jagged boulder lodged in the sand.

  “Are they following us?” she whispered breathlessly to Mick.

  “They will,” he answered, “but I think we’ve got a good lead.” He nodded toward a rocky incline that formed a point on the south end of the beach. “We’ll have to climb up that hill and hide behind boulders. It’s our only chance of losing them.”

  Without hesitating, they tore off and scrambled up the hill. Glancing back, Nancy saw that Mick was right: The man and woman had chased them onto the beach. She darted behind a boulder, but not before she spotted the glint of a knife in the man’s hand.

  Nancy’s stomach churned as the weight of the situation hit her. These people were armed and dangerous!

  Fortunately, she and Mick had enough of a lead to give them an advantage. After a few minutes they managed to lose their pursuers in the rambling, twisted rocks.

  As she and Mick continued to put distance between them and the cave, Nancy’s mind raced. They had left the picnic basket and her tote bag under the olive tree on the beach, and she knew it wouldn’t be safe to return there. Luckily nothing in the bag would help the man and woman track her down.

  On the other hand, now she and Mick wouldn’t be able to hook up with Nikos, either, and he was their only way home. Unless they could flag down a boat of snorkelers, she and Mick would be stuck on Dragonisi, at least for the night.

  Nancy was mulling over the situation when she and Mick reached a low cliff overlooking the water. The sea was a short drop, maybe fifteen feet below them. Nancy sat down to rest. Looking out over the water, she noticed a boat on the horizon, speeding along the islet’s shoreline.

  “That boat’s heading our way. Think we can hitch a ride?” she asked, grabbing Mick’s arm.

  He shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

  Nancy took off her bright orange cap and tried to flag down the boat. She was waving frantically when she recognized the boat’s yellow hull and distinctive star. It was the Sea Star. “Theo!” she shouted.

  “Well, fancy that,” Mick said. He stood up as the boat swerved toward them and slowed down.

  Theo seemed surprised to see Nancy and Mick stranded on the low cliff. Within minutes he had taxied ashore on an inflated dinghy and brought them aboard the Sea Star. When Nancy and Mick warned Theo that they were in danger, he sped away immediately, without asking questions.

  Nancy waited until the boat was a safe distance from Dragonisi before she filled him in on their close brush in the cave.

  “That is amazing!” Theo exclaimed, the wind rippling his hair. “Those caves you were exploring have drop-offs and hidden passages. Did you notice a pond in one of the caves?”

  Nancy nodded. “Yes, in the cave that the people were camped in.”

  “That’s called Kea Lake. It has a channel that leads out of the cave—a tunnel of water. It connects to a small pond on the other side of the point, where you flagged me down.”

  “Do you mean we could have swum out of the cave?” Mick asked, somewhat surprised.

  “It is possible,” Theo said. “But it is very tricky if you do not know the cave.”

  “You seem to know Dragonisi well,” Nancy told Theo.

  He shrugged. “I have maps, but the caves are dangerous. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  “Lucky for us you were in the area,” said Mick. “We saw your boat on the other side of the island before lunch. How was the fishing?”

  Theo glanced away. “Not so good. No fish today.”

  Nancy looked over at the empty fishing net and wondered what Theo had been doing all day. “Maybe you saw the people we had the run-in with,” she said. “I think they were out swimming before they returned to the cave.” She went on to describe the man and woman.

  Theo frowned and suddenly became preoccupied with navigating his boat. He definitely seemed uncomfortable with her questions. In fact, she was sure he was hiding something. “I didn’t see them,” he said, concentrating on the open sea.

  Changing the subject, he said, “It will be almost an hour until we reach Chora. In the meantime, I will try to radio Nikos so he does not search for you. Why don’t you relax?” he said, nodding toward the seats on the aft deck.

  With a sigh, Mick sank onto an orange cushion. “I’m glad that’s over.”

  “We’ll have to report it to the police on Mykonos,” Nancy reminded him as she sat down next to him. In the frenzy of their confrontation in the cave, she hadn’t had time to tell him about the passport photos she found there.

  “Wow!” Mick exclaimed once she told him. His green eyes flickered with interest. “Along with the explosives, it all adds up to something illegal—and deadly.”

  “Do you think those people in the cave are connected to the three passports?”

  Mick shrugged. “How do you figure that?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said, hugging a cushion to her chest. “But I thought of it when I saw those photos in the cave.”

  As she spoke, Nancy look
ed down at the cushion in her arms. Something about it struck a familiar chord in her mind. The square cushion was covered with smooth orange canvas cloth. She turned it over and found that a star and a few Greek letters had been marked on the cushion with a black felt-tip pen. The Greek word ended with the letters aooa.

  Nancy’s eyes widened in surprise. The same cushions had been sitting near the sleeping bags in the cave with the explosives!

  Chapter Nine

  “WHAT’S WRONG?” Mick asked.

  Nancy glanced ahead to make sure that Theo couldn’t hear them. Then she showed Mick the marking on the cushion. “I saw the same cushions in that cave.”

  “Are you sure?” Mick questioned. “We don’t know the Greek alphabet. Maybe some of the letters just look the same.”

  “I’m positive,” she said emphatically. “It was a star, followed, by these symbols.” A quick search of the other cushions on the aft deck revealed that they were all marked the same way.

  Mick’s eyes darkened, and he said, “Now that I think of it, what was Theo doing on that deserted part of Dragonisi—after he refused to take us there? He could have been on his way to see the people in the cave!”

  Nancy tensed. “And remember that woman we saw him talking to, next to the snorkelers? She had red hair . . .”

  “Just like the woman in the cave,” Mick finished. “I think it’s time Theo gave us some solid answers,” he added, suddenly on his feet.

  Nancy grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “If he is involved with those people, we can’t afford to confront him while we’re out on the open sea.”

  “Good point.” Mick took her hand and settled in for the ride.

  Nearly an hour later, as they arrived in Mykonos’s harbor, Nancy held up one of the cushions and said to Theo, “These are nice. But what do those letters say?”

  “Those are the markings of the Sea Star,” Theo replied. He threw a line around a wooden stanchion in the marina, then turned to Nancy and traced the handwritten symbols on the cushion. “The name is also marked on the hull of my boat.”

  “Do any of the other boats have the same cushions?” Nancy asked him.

  “Oh, sure. But not with these markings—at least, they shouldn’t,” Theo said sternly. “I noticed that some of my cushions disappeared a few days ago.” He lowered his voice. “But I think some of the older fishermen here at the marina are playing a joke on me.”

  Mick and Nancy exchanged a look that said they both doubted the story. Mick started to say something, but Nancy shook her head, stopping him.

  It wouldn’t be wise to press Theo. There were too many questions—about the cushions, about the redheaded woman, about Theo’s presence at Dragonisi, and about the deadly explosives. She needed to investigate on her own before she let Theo know how much she suspected.

  The hot sun and excitement had taken its toll on Nancy’s energy, but she wanted to report the incident on Dragonisi right away. Fortunately, there was a police station located on Mykonos’s harbor between a café and a souvenir shop. Inside, Nancy and Mick waited on a bench in a dusty gray room while the desk officer located someone who spoke English.

  Finally Officer Rossolatos appeared, with a younger police officer who had short black hair. Nancy and Mick reported the incident on Dragonisi without too much trouble. The only problem was, every time they said something, Officer Rossolatos translated it, and a barrage of conversation—all in Greek—followed. Nancy was dying to know what the men were saying.

  She kept hearing one word crop up. It sounded like “diafevgo.” But when she asked what they were discussing, Officer Rossolatos brushed her questions aside.

  “We will send a boat to Dragonisi to look for these people, but please, stay away from that place,” he warned Nancy and Mick. “These people . . . they may be very dangerous.”

  “I’m a world traveler once again!” Bess said, waving her new passport in the air as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

  George and Kevin sat down next to her. “Now at least you don’t have to worry if anyone asks for ID when we go to Naxos tomorrow.”

  “Great,” said Nancy. She, Mick, and Zoe were already sipping iced fruit drinks at Kounela, a waterside taverna in Chora. They had left a message at the hotel telling Bess, George, and Kevin where to meet them for dinner.

  As soon as everyone settled in, the group agreed to let Zoe order up some traditional Greek dishes that they could all share. Then Nancy got a full report on her friends’ trip to Athens.

  “The passport stuff took a couple of hours,” Bess said, taking a sliced orange from the rim of her glass. “Then we got to watch Kevin interview Angelique Seferis! She’s just as beautiful as she looks on TV—and nice, too.”

  “I’m glad you girls could come along,” said Kevin. “It made the interview a lot more like fun.”

  George smiled at him, but Nancy could see that she wasn’t as ecstatic as Bess. “Watching you in front of the camera reminded me how hard you work,” George told Kevin. “And you’re off to Spain on another assignment in a few days.”

  Kevin placed his hand over George’s and gave it a squeeze. Nancy felt a little sorry for George. It had to be frustrating to be in love with someone who was always on the road.

  “Everyone set for Naxos tomorrow?” Bess asked, putting aside her menu.

  The group gave a chorus of approval. “The hydrofoil is the fastest way to go,” Zoe said. “It will give us more time to explore the island.”

  Just then a procession of waiters appeared, each bearing a platter of food that made Nancy’s mouth water. Zoe explained all the dishes, from cubes of roasted lamb, called souvlákia, to spicy meatballs called ghiuvarlakia. There were also platters of dried octopus, fish steeped in olive oil, and grape leaves stuffed with spiced meat.

  The platters were being passed around the table when Bess inquired, “How was Dragonisi?”

  “Poor Nancy and Mick had a terrible time!” Zoe said, stabbing a grape leaf with her fork.

  “What happened, Nan?” George asked, a concerned look in her brown eyes.

  Nancy and Mick took turns telling the others about their day. First, Nancy recounted the story of their close call in the cave and of finding the explosives and passport photos. “Hardly standard camping gear,” she remarked dryly.

  “It’s an odd coincidence,” Kevin said. “But how could they be connected to the passports that were stolen from the hotel?”

  Nancy let out her breath in a long sigh. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, “but these people are definitely trouble. Maybe they need passports to get out of Greece. They might have found out about Dimitri’s studio and asked him to insert their photographs on the stolen passports.”

  “But three passports were stolen,” Zoe pointed out, “and there were only two people in the cave.”

  Mick snapped his fingers. “But there were three knapsacks! One guy could’ve been out running an errand or swimming or something.”

  “That’s possible,” Nancy agreed. “Someone went through the hotel safe and carefully selected the ID of two American men and one American female—that could match the group hiding in the cave. And Officer Rossolatos told us that American passports are highly valued in the underworld.”

  “Wait a minute,” Bess said, swallowing hard. “Are you saying that the woman from the cave is going to escape the police by using my passport?”

  “Possibly,” Nancy said. “But she and the others need to have the photo page altered first. That’s why. I think there has to be a talented forger at work somewhere on these islands.”

  As Nancy described their trip to the police station, she remembered the word that the Greek police had kept using. “Diafevgo,” she said, turning to Zoe. “I hope I’m saying it right. Can you tell me what it means?”

  “It’s the Greek word for ‘flee’ or ‘escape,’ ” Zoe said thoughtfully. “Maybe they were relieved that you and Mick escaped from those people.”

  Still not satisf
ied, Nancy said, “That might be it—but it seemed like something was going on. I wonder if the police have had dealings with those people with the explosives before.”

  “Too bad Zoe wasn’t at the police station to translate,” Mick remarked.

  “Or in the cave,” Nancy added. “The man in the cave kept saying something . . . shara. What does that mean?” she asked Zoe.

  Zoe shook her head. “It’s not a Greek word.”

  The table was silent for a moment as everyone considered Nancy and Mick’s close call. Then George said, “Nan, don’t tell me you’re going back to Dragonisi to look for that couple.”

  Nancy shook her head. “No way—not with those explosives lying around. I thought it would be wiser to wait for the police to check out that cave. Unfortunately, they didn’t find anything.”

  “Nothing?” Bess asked incredulously.

  “Hardly a trace,” Zoe put in. “I called the police just before we left the hotel. They found the cave Nancy and Mick described, but the only thing left behind was the remnants of their campfire. They must have moved—and fast.”

  “Not a good sign,” Nancy said, wincing. “They’re on the run. I think we’ve stumbled into some serious trouble here.”

  “What are you going to do, Nan?” Bess asked.

  “Keep an eye on Dimitri. If he’s the forger, he might lead us to the others involved. There’s one other person who concerns me, too.” Nancy told them her suspicions about Theo.

  Kevin scooped up the last bit of souvlákia on his plate, then looked at Nancy. “Let me get this straight. You think Zoe’s friend Theo is helping those people with the explosives?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said, “but so far, a lot of evidence points to it. Besides the cushions, I think I saw him talking with the red-haired woman who chased us from the cave. I want to check out his boat as soon as I can.”