The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [37]
It all added up to one thing for Mike. His fool’s paradise was truly a fool’s paradise. Sooner or later some child would talk to one of the Italian “tourists” or one of the big-city girls. He had to break Christos down and make his move immediately.
Although the feeling in Paleachora was overwhelmingly pro-British and, even more strongly, pro-American, the effects of the occupation hit them fast. Taxation, a portion of the crops, and now their very homes were in jeopardy. The weaker ones buckled under the pressure and thought it best to keep the escapees moving. For even with the new tax the price of wheat was bringing them rewards never known before.
The majority favored resistance and believed it a sacred duty to shelter escapees. Other men vowed to burn their wheat fields before giving the Germans a kernel of grain.
But Paleachora was getting tense. Mike no longer enjoyed the visits to the coffee house. The arguments raged far into the night. Then, one day, suspicion and whispers supplanted song and dance when a nearby village was burned to the ground. Several families were suspected of having turned collaborators.
“We have found him,” said Zervos’ voice over the telephone.
Konrad Heilser bolted upright in bed. “Where are you?”
“Dadi.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am positive,” Zervos answered.
“Have any of our people actually seen him?”
“No, but I have a peasant here who informs for us. He speaks of a British escapee who talks like an American. His description of Morrison is perfect. Even to the degree that Morrison arrived by boat and was injured in a jump from a prison train.”
Heilser’s heart raced as he threw off the covers and told his new woman to go back to sleep. He began unbuttoning his pajamas as he spoke into the phone.
“Where is he?”
“A village named Paleachora—northern end of the province. I wanted to check with you before taking a squad of soldiers to pick him up.”
“No, wait a minute. A squad of men may be too small.”
“I don’t understand,” Zervos said.
“I have a half dozen reports of villagers making armed resistance. We better not go in undermanned.”
“What shall I do then?”
“How many troops will we need to cut off the village?”
“Two or three hundred,” Zervos answered.
“Do nothing. I leave for Dadi this minute. We will organize a raid to hit this village in the middle of the night tomorrow.”
Christos’ bald head and waxed mustache shone in the candlelight. He held his hands to his heart.
“Jay, as I love you like a son, you should not leave.”
“Be sensible, Christos. Another day—another two days—the Germans will burn Paleachora to the ground.”
Christos spat on the floor and issued an oath against the Germans, then crossed himself. “Even if you are gone we will never turn our backs on the Englezos.... No! I will not let you leave!”
Despite Christos’ shady dealings, he was a Greek to the core.
“I have this money—five million drachmas—take it,” Mike said.
“You have insulted me. Do you think that all Christos cares for is money? You, Jay, are my friend.”
“All right, then, I go alone.”
Christos grumbled under his breath. “Five million drachmas—fifty million drachmas. You would think all Christos wants is money. If I had all the money I could carry in my boat, I could not buy a bag of wheat with it. I would give you my boat but it isn’t fit to cross the sea. Besides, within one hour a patrol ship would find you.... Besides, I do not know the lanes over the mine fields.... Besides...”
“I’m not asking you to take me to North Africa. I only want to get to Athens—immediately.”
Christos fiddled with his glass of krasi for a moment then lit his huge bowler pipe. He stared at Mike calmly and spoke without the usual breast thumpings.
“My niece, Eleftheria, is a nice healthy girl, no?”
Mike grinned to himself. Now, at last, Christos would play out his hand. He agreed that Eleftheria was as healthy as a horse.
“You know, Jay, it is a custom in our country for a suitor to come to the father with a ring and the two to enter into a contract. I speak to you as her guardian. I have a plot