The Dark Side of the Island - Jack Higgins [43]
Dimitri struck him back-handed across the face. "You are not fit to speak of him." He turned to the other two. "Get him into the truck."
They ran Lomax out through the door, bundled him into the cab of the old truck and pushed him down on the floor. One of them climbed behind the wheel and Dimitri and the other walked round to the far side.
Lomax twisted on to his front and as the headlights were switched on, found himself looking straight at Dimitri. The bouzouki player produced a Beretta automatic of the type issued to Italian officers during the war and handed it to the other man.
"If he gives you any trouble between here and town, shoot him."
"What do we do when we've got rid of him?" his companion said.
"Come straight back to the farm. I'll be waiting to hear the good news." Dimitri turned to Lomax. "Sorry I can't be in at the kill, but I've got other business to attend to. Riki here and Nikita will look after you just fine. They've got almost as good a reason for hating you as I have."
"You'll never get away with this," Lomax said.
Dimitri spat full in his face. "That's for luck, Englishman. You're going to need it."
He stepped back as Riki clambered up into the passenger seat and the truck moved away over the uneven surface of the yard. As they turned on to the track, Nikita moved into top gear and the roar of the engine filled the small cab.
Lomax twisted to one side and looked up. In the light from the instrument panel Nikita seemed almost sub-human, the bones of his face standing out in sharp relief as sweat dripped from his pointed chin.
Riki, who had been smoking a cigarette, tossed it out of the window and started to sing, and the roaring of the engine drowned his voice so that as his mouth opened and closed no sound seemed to come out.
There was an impossible, nightmarish quality to the whole thing and for the first time Lomax began to feel afraid. "Listen to me!" he shouted desperately.
If either of them heard him above the noise of the engine, they made no sign. The truck bounced over a ridge in the road, rolling him over on his face again, and as panic moved inside him he turned on his back and cried at the top of his voice, "For God's sake listen to me!"
The effect was almost miraculous. The truck skidded to a halt and Nikita cut the engine in the same moment. They sat looking down at him, neither of them saying anything, waiting for him to speak, and Lomax said, "This is madness. Killing me will earn you nothing but grief."
"You have a better idea?" Riki asked calmly.
"I'm a rich man," Lomax said. "My life is worth a great deal to me."
The very oppressiveness of the silence which followed told him that he had said the wrong thing. With a sudden curse, Riki raised a foot and pushed hard down on the unprotected neck. Lomax started to choke and a few seconds later the pressure was released.
"You ever hear of a man called George Samos?" Riki demanded.
Lomax nodded, feeling suddenly cold, realising what was to come. "I knew a shepherd by that name. He helped me when I was here during the war."
"He was our uncle," Riki said. "Our father's brother. The Germans hunted him down up there on the mountain and shot him like a dog."
"You think money could pay for that, Englishman?" Nikita demanded.
There was nothing Lomax could say, nothing they would have been prepared to listen to. He lay there helplessly while Riki produced a large red bandanna and quickly gagged him with it, and Nikita started the engine again and drove away.
He was aware that they had entered the town because the truck had to slow to negotiate the narrow streets, and by turning his head slightly he could look up through the windscreen at the roofs of the houses.
When the truck finally rolled to a halt and Nikita cut the engine, Riki jumped to the ground first. He pulled Lomax out after him and held the Beretta under his nose.
"Do exactly as you're told," he said. "Don't make me use this thing."
They were parked at the end of the breakwater which was farthest away from the pier. It