The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [4]
It had been a stroke of luck, indeed, when Zervos, the government clerk, got wind of Stergiou’s plan and made contact with the Germans.
Heilser slipped into Greece ahead of the German invasion and with Zervos’ help got the rat pack working with him. The traitors, the opportunists, the cowards. All of them anxious to throw in with the Germans in time. Heilser and his Greek friends had done their job well. The British were confused, not knowing whom they could trust and whom not to trust. Heilser and his Greek friends had increased that confusion. The confusion that comes before defeat. Soon the confusion would be a stampeding panic.
As the record ran out Konrad Heilser stood up, flicked off the machine and lit a cigarette, the last of his pack. He walked to the mirror over the dresser and looked into it, steeped in self-admiration. He ran a brush over his already plastered-down thick black hair.
It was small wonder he felt a glow of accomplishment. No stone had been left unturned. With meticulous thoroughness he knew every move and every plan of the British. He had woven a web around them from his garret hide-away. How convenient indeed for his two old friends, Howe-Wilken and Soutar, to show up for the Stergiou list. It made everything so simple. An unexpected pleasure.
Heilser turned the record. He checked his watch, walked to the garret window and threw back the threadbare curtain. He looked down on a filthy cobblestone alley. Greece was hardly worth the conquering. A filthy, decadent race living on the past glories of two thousand years. Again, the thought of having to leave Paris angered him. If those spaghetti-eating louts of Italians hadn’t been pushed from Greece and run halfway through Albania he would still be in France.
But even Greece would have its compensations. As soon as German troops liberated Athens a suite at the Grande Bretagne would be in order. Canaris, yes, even von Ribbentrop himself would hear of Heilser’s splendid work. And, with the delivery of the Stergiou list, there would be a promotion. Perhaps the entire Secret Service for all of Greece would be the reward. Then, of course, there were the Greek women. This last thought made him tingle with impatience and excitement.
In the alley below, Heilser spied the figure of the fat Greek pig, Zervos, wending his way along the slime-covered cobblestones. Zervos brushed past some ragged urchins and disappeared into the house.
Heilser heard the man’s footsteps grow slower and slower as he labored his way up the last flight of steps to the fifth-story attic. He could hear Zervos’ wheezing breath through the flimsy door. The Greek knocked.
Zervos flopped into the armchair, fighting to regain his breath and mopping his wet face. Heilser stood over him.
“Well!” the German demanded.
“All three of them are blanketed. Howe-Wilken left by car in the direction of Stergiou’s house.”
“And the Scotsman, Soutar?”
“He arranges a plane to fly them from the Tatoi airdrome at midnight.”
Heilser closed his eyes and put his forefinger to his forehead. He must conceal the anxious rumbling inside him from the Greek pig. He must not show anxiety before his inferior.
“The names?”
“No doubt Howe-Wilken goes to get the list now. Stergiou has contacted no one else. Tassos assures us of that.”
“Good—good.” The churning heightened, the coup was near at hand.... “And the military situation?”
“Latest information indicates the British will not make a stand before Athens.”
‘Then we strike!” He paced the floor rapidly. “Dispose of both Wilken and Soutar. I want Stergiou alive.” He turned to Zervos. “I’ve waited for eight long months for this moment.... Watch those two; they are slippery. One mistake and I’ll have your throat slit.”
Zervos, the fat man, knew this wasn’t idle chatter. He nodded and struggled out of the chair, still mopping his face. “One more thing disturbs me.... An American has visited Stergiou three times this