The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [64]
Mike looked down the street. He saw an automobile roll to a stop beside the two Gestapo men. One of them pointed to the tram and the car began to follow a block behind him.
The tram slowed for a stop. Mike jumped off and sprinted into a dark street.
Where? Where? Where?
He was limp with fright. In the middle of the block he came to an alleyway. He could hear the car turn the corner down the block.
Mike plunged into the pitch-black alley and ran the length of it—only to hit a dead end. A fifteen-foot brick wall sealed his exit. He leaped up, but his hand fell short of the top. On the other side of the wall came the sound of barking dogs.
Mike squinted desperately into the darkness. The backs of houses faced him on both sides. A few yellow lights glinted through drawn shades. The putrid smell of garbage reached his nostrils.... A rat darted past him over the slimy cobblestones.
He flattened against the wall and drew his pistol.
At the far end of the alley he heard car doors slam, then footsteps and half-whispered orders.
Mike slunk along the wall and along some low fences past several houses. The beam of a flashlight darted into the alley. He tumbled over a fence and crouched behind it. At the end of the alley he heard another car screech to a stop.
“Is someone out there?” a voice called behind Mike.
He spun around. The back door to a house was opened.
“Englezos,” he croaked... “Englezos—help me...”
“In here, quickly,” the voice answered.
The door shut behind him. Mike fell against it panting and dizzy. A woman stood before him clad only in a kimono. “Follow me,” she said.
They turned into a long hallway. She snapped a door open. Mike reeled into the room. “Stay here,” the woman said. “I will return in a few minutes.”
He collapsed into a chair and buried his head in his hands. “Jesus... Jesus Christ...”
He lifted his head and looked around the room slowly. It was lit by a blue bulb in a lamp behind a satin-covered bed. A gaudy chaise longue was near the bed. On one wall, the usual ikon and picture of Christ. In sharp contrast, on the other walls, hung several reproductions of Greek paintings. All of them depicted naked young ladies in various stages of repose. There was an alcove beside the bed. It was partly concealed by a heavy curtain but Mike could see a sink and basin stand.
He stiffened at the sound of laughter and talk in the hallway. One voice was that of a German, the other a Greek woman’s.
Several times, doors opened and closed nearby.
Then quiet.
There was a soft tap on his door and it was opened. The woman in the kimono stepped in quickly and bolted it behind her. “Gestapo are all over the street,” she said. “They are throwing a ring around the entire neighborhood.”
Mike stood up and wiped the sweat from his face.
“You can put your pistol away. You will be safe here.”
He watched her walk to the chaise longue and stretch out on it. She was young, in her mid-twenties, and not without some beauty. She smiled at Mike. “My name is Ketty,” she said. “Be a dear and rub the back of my neck.”
He stumbled over to her. She slipped the kimono from her shoulders, baring half her bosom. Mike stood awkwardly behind her. “Don’t be bashful,” Ketty said.
She purred as his hands massaged her neck and shoulders. “That feels wonderful. We all wish so badly the Englezos were back. You were all such gentlemen. These Germans are louts. And the Macaronades! Each one thinks he is the greatest lover in the world. I’ve been working since noon,” she rambled on.... “They argue even about the little they pay. It doesn’t matter much, drachmas are dropping in value every day.”
Ketty put her kimono back on and touched her hair. “Don’t be frightened—half the German Command is here.”
“You’re very sweet, Ketty. I won’t forget this.”
“It is nice talking to an Englezos again. It was good the short time they were here. I have a little girl, you know.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. She is a very lovely