Solo - Jack Higgins [20]
Mikali heard all of this as he approached. He smiled. 'Your Excellencies, I'm honoured you could both attend tonight.'
'A privilege, Monsieur Mikali.' The Minister snapped his fingers and a waiter hurried forward with champagne on a tray. They all took a glass. 'An astonishing performance.'
The Greek Ambassador raised his glass. 'To you, my dear Mikali and to your genius. Greece is proud of you.'
As Mikali raised his own glass in return, Jean Paul Deville toasted him in the mirror.
General George Stephanakis booked into the Hilton hotel in West Berlin on the afternoon of 2 November. The management gave him a suite on the fourth floor, with adjoining rooms for his aides. They also made sure, as a courtesy, that the room service waiter was a Greek and also the chambermaid.
Her name was Zia Boudakis, age nineteen, a small girl with dark hair and an olive skin. In a few years, she would have a weight problem, but not yet and that evening, as she let herself into the suite with her pass key, she looked undeniably attractive in the dark stockings and short, black uniform dress.
The General would be back at eight, they'd told her that, so she busied herself quickly in turning down the beds, and generally tidying the suite. She folded the coverlets then turned to put them away in the wardrobe, pulling across the sliding door.
The man standing inside was dressed in black pants and sweater, his head covered with a balaclava helmet through which only his eyes and nose and lips showed. There was a rope around his waist, she noticed that, and that the hand which grabbed her throat, choking off her scream, was gloved. And then she was inside in the dark with him, the door closed, leaving only a chink through which the room could be seen.
He released his grip and in her terror, she spoke instinctively in Greek. 'Don't kill me!'
'Heh, a Greek girl,' he said, to her total astonishment, in her own language. She recognized the accent at once.
'Oh, my God, you're the Cretan.'
'That's right, my love.' He swung her round, a hand lightly around her throat. 'I won't harm you if you're a good girl. But if you're not, if you try to warn him in any way, I'll kill you.'
'Yes,' she moaned.
'Good. What time does he get in?'
'Eight o'clock.'
He glanced at his wrist. 'We've got twenty minutes to wait. We'll just have to make ourselves comfortable, won't we?'
He leaned against the wall, holding her against him. She was no longer afraid, at least not as she had been at first, but excited in a strange way, aware of him hard against her, one hand around her waist. She started to move against him, only a little at first and then more as he laughed and kissed her on the neck.
She was more excited than she had ever been, there in the darkness, turned to meet him as he pushed her against the wall, easing the dark dress up above her thighs.
Afterwards, he tied her wrists very gently behind her her and breathed in her ear, 'There, you've had what you wanted, so be a good girl and keep quiet.'
He tied a handkerchief around her mouth to gag her, again with surprising gentleness, and waited. There was the sound of the key in the lock, the door opened and General Stephanakis was ushered in by two of his aides.
They were all in uniform. He turned and said, 'I'm going to have a shower and change. Come back in forty-five minutes. We'll eat here.'
They saluted and left and he closed the door. Stephanakis dropped his cap on the bed and started to un-button his tunic. Behind him, the door of the wardrobe rolled back and Mikali stepped out. He held a pistol with a silencer in his right hand. Stephanakis gazed at him in stupefaction and Mikali pulled up the balaclava.
'Oh, my God,' the General said. 'You - you are the Cretan.'
'Welcome to Berlin,' Mikali said and shot him.
He turned off all the lights, pulled on his balaclava again, then opened the window and uncoiled the rope about his waist. A few moments