An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [57]
‘We’ll be right outside. If you need anything, just holler.’ The captain glared at the three on the floor and followed his two men out the door.
Kouros took up a position looking straight down the line of prisoners, leaving no doubt what would happen if they tried anything with the new guy holding the shotgun.
Andreas smiled. ‘You guys have had quite a day. First a stroll in the country, then a boat ride, now a bit of prayer and meditation. But, oh yes, I forgot you’re used to that. So, do you miss the monastery?’
No answer.
‘Okay, I understand, these are not the best circumstances for us to get to know each other, but it’s all the time we have.’
Silence.
‘Now, now, you’re not going to tell me you’ve taken a vow of silence are you?’
Not a word.
This was going nowhere, thought Andreas. Time to take another risk. ‘I don’t understand, Kalogeros Zacharias wouldn’t have sent you if you had.’
It was as if someone had touched the three with an electric cattle prod. The prisoner in the middle said something in Serbian to the others.
Andreas shook his head. ‘Fellas, the party is over. We know where you came from, and you know where you’re going. The only question is whether it’s prison for the rest of your lives - for war crimes.’ He guessed that at least one of them had that worry, possibly all of them.
Kouros shrugged and tightened his grip on the shotgun.
‘No matter. Besides I’m sure you boys know more about that than I do.’
‘Fuck you.’ It was the prisoner in the middle.
Must have guessed right. ‘Nice to meet you, too. The name’s Andreas.’
‘We have nothing to say.’
Andreas nodded, and walked over to a bag he’d brought with him. Carefully he lifted it from the floor and stood holding it in front of the three men. He shook his head. ‘Would you like to see what I have in here for you?’
The middle one spoke again. ‘Fuck you, we’re not afraid. We’ve been tortured before.’
Andreas looked surprised. ‘Torture, who’s talking torture?’ He reached into the bag, pulled out and pointed a cylinder in the man’s face. ‘Here, bite this.’
The man jerked his head back and away from the thing, studied it, leaned forward, and sniffed at it. Then he took a bite.
‘Good, huh?’ Andreas gave the others the same choice, and each accepted. Then he went up and down the line until the sausage was finished. ‘I know it’s a little awkward doing things this way, but I’m sure you understand why I can’t untie your hands.’ He reached into the bag, pulled out some bread, and repeated the process.
‘Cheese?’
The three nodded. One even said, ‘Thank you.’
After another round of sausage, Andreas opened a bottle of wine. ‘Hope you don’t mind sharing.’ Carefully, he held the bottle up to each prisoner’s lips, allowing each man to comfortably drink as much as the man wanted. Andreas kept this up until the bottle was empty. Then gave them more sausages, another bottle of wine, more cheese, another bottle of wine, more cheese, and more wine. It took about a half-hour for the feast to finish.
‘I hope you liked it. The farmer you worked for gave it to us.’
‘Yeah, it was good.’ It was the prisoner who’d said thanks.
‘They were good people,’ said the one in the middle. ‘Sorry we had to do that to them. I hope they’re okay.’
Andreas was always amazed when professional killers of innocents showed such seeming genuine concern for their prey; as if murder were just a job to them, unrelated to their feelings for those whose lives they ended. ‘Sure, no problem,’ said Andreas. ‘How did you end up there anyway?’
The prisoner who’d been quiet looked at the others. ‘It’s nothing he doesn’t already know.’ The two others shrugged. ‘We found the place the first day we got there. Just in case we needed to leave the monastery.’
‘Smart,’ said Andreas.
The thankful one said, ‘And when we heard you wanted to talk to us, we decided it was time to move on.’
‘And, of course, you couldn’t go home to your monastery until Sunday.’
He nodded. ‘Yes. The farm seemed as safe as any place.’
‘We were going to leave by boat next Saturday