‘Are you sure there’s no other way of doing this?’

The Cretan raised his broad shoulders. ‘Kornaria has been a cancer in this island for too long. Besides, they won’t hand over your woman or the other one, even if the man who calls himself Jannet is returned to them. I know how Dhrakakis works.’

Mavros thought for a few moments. ‘What about Waggoner?’

‘Ach, Waggoner. My father told me he was a fierce fighter in the war, but men like him often do not do so well in peacetime. I don’t know if he’s involved in the drug trade, but he’s had his snout in many other dirty deals over the years.’

‘He told me he has some things that belonged to my father, and that he’ll only give them to me if I don’t go to the village.’

Haris sat down beside him. ‘Alex mou, this I cannot help you with. But I know what I would do — put the living before the dead, God rest your brave father’s soul.’

Not that Spyros, as a good communist, thought he had one of those, at least not currently residing in heaven. Mavros nodded. ‘You’re right. Let’s do it.’

He followed Haris into the depths of the old building.

TWENTY-FOUR

Luke Jannet was removed from his makeshift cell, allowed to use the toilet with the guard present and then handcuffed by his unplastered wrist to the same solid Cretan.

Mavros, wearing a loose green cotton combat jacket, came up to the pair.

‘Guess what?’ he said. ‘We’re taking you to Kornaria to swap you for my other half and Maria Kondos.’

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding?’ the director said, his eyes wide. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere near that place.’

‘Really? And there I was, thinking you were their new best friend.’

‘Yeah, well, that depended on me bringing a large amount of cash to the table.’ He glared at Mavros. ‘Cash I’d have got if you’d let Roufos do his job.’

Mavros held his gaze. ‘So you were going to take the proceeds of the coin collection. In return for what? Cutting Roufos in on the drug trafficking?’

‘The two things go together — in the same containers, I mean. It’s a perfect fit.’

‘A perfect fit that’s about to get too tight for comfort.’ Mavros laughed. ‘Don’t worry, they’re very hospitable up there. Or so Maria Kondos didn’t say.’ He turned on his heel and left the American moaning. Suddenly that stopped. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the guard had placed his very large fist in front of Jannet’s face as a warning. Scene over.

His phone rang shortly afterwards.

‘Oh, he lives and breathes,’ the Fat Man said, with heavy irony. ‘I’ve been trying you for hours. You turned yourself into a telephone exchange?’

‘Busy-busy, Yiorgo. About to go into action.’

‘Cinematic or vendetta?’

‘Primarily the latter.’

There was a pause. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

‘Very. Niki’s been kidnapped. I’ve got plenty of help, but so have the opposition.’

‘Those drug-producing tossers?’

‘Correct. If. . if I don’t get out of this alive, you’ll have to tell my family.’

‘What? Alex, you’re hereby banned from doing anything dangerous, you hear?’ The Fat Man’s voice had gone up several octaves.

‘Too late for that, Yiorgo. Whatever happens, it’ll be on the news tomorrow. Kriaras is handling things in Athens.’

‘Oh, great. So why have you got to take any risks?’

Mavros sighed. ‘I told you, Fat Man, they’ve got Niki. But don’t worry, we’ve got some tricks up our sleeves.’

‘So now you’re Prince Charming, going off to rescue a fair damsel?’

‘I might also get back some stuff that belonged to my old man during the war.’

That shut Yiorgos up, but not for long.

‘Call the cops in Chania. They can take charge till Kriaras’s people arrive.’

Mavros laughed. ‘Listen to yourself, Yiorgo. The cops down here have been living off Kornaria for decades. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, Fat Man.’ He cut the connection before he heard his friend’s reaction to that. Communists weren’t supposed to be emotional and Mavros had never said those words to Yiorgos before.

Cara came over, dressed like Eleni and carrying a pump-action shotgun.

‘Reminds me of my second picture,’ she said. ‘Country girl who got raped and took out a whole village of freaks.’ She racked the slide. ‘Good to be carrying live rounds for a change.’ She peered at him. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Something in my eye.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Look, will you try to keep your head down? I’ve grown quite fond of you and I wouldn’t like you to get hurt.’

‘Aw, sweet.’ She kissed him, taking care not to touch his abdomen. ‘Haven’t you noticed?’ She unzipped her jacket to reveal a Kevlar vest. ‘Tightly constricted twin peaks.’

He laughed and they headed for the exit. In the parking lot, two long wheelbase Land Rovers and two large pickups were being loaded with various supplies.

‘There will be twelve armed men in the convoy,’ Haris said, glancing at his wife and Cara. ‘Plus two armed women.’

‘Keep them all out of sight for as long as you can,’ Mavros said. ‘It may be I can finish this on my own.’

‘And maybe I can sing Tosca,’ Eleni said, with a sardonic laugh. ‘This is a fight to the finish, Alex, and you know it.’

He nodded. ‘Let’s hope that Niki and Maria aren’t among the casualties.’

‘You forgot someone,’ Cara said. ‘Yourself.’

‘Leave him be,’ Haris said, pulling her back. ‘He’s getting his thoughts in order. He’s going into the village alone apart from that wanker of a director. The adrenaline has to be controlled.’

Mavros got into the second vehicle, a Land Rover, with Haris, while the women went in the third. The lead pickup was filled with four young Cretans, to deal with the expected road block. Jannet was with his escort in the last vehicle.

As they headed through the dark orange and olive groves, he looked up at the night. The snow on the mountains was visible, an almost full moon casting its pallid light over the line of ridges and summits.

‘Are you sure about the timing?’ Mavros asked Haris.

‘The sooner you walk up there the better. They’ll all be awake from sunrise, but the longer we wait, the more likely that one or other of our people will be spotted.’ He gave a guttural laugh. ‘It’s always best to take your enemy by surprise. Dhrakakis will assume you’ll leave it till the last minute to show up, having wasted your time trying to get the police interested.’

‘You sure your men will be able to extract the walkie-talkie passwords from the sentries?’

‘You’ve obviously never had a hunting knife in the immediate vicinity of your balls.’

‘Erm, not yet.’

Haris slapped him on the thigh. ‘Don’t worry, they won’t come near you.’

‘Best you observe the same principle.’

The Cretan glanced at him and then nodded. ‘Sorry, that was stupid.’

‘I appreciate the sentiment though,’ Mavros said. Then he slipped into a zone where the people he would be trying to save flashed before him — Niki, smiling bravely; Maria Kondos, as haughty as ever. Then his father appeared, his face younger and less care-worn than in the photos that Mavros’s mother had on display. Suddenly he understood. Although Spyros’s experiences on Crete — the paratroop landings, the Battle of Galatsi, the years on the run — had been terrible, it had been on the island that he learned the truth about violence: that it led to more brutality and heartbreak, and that no political system, even a communist one, could be built on blood-drenched foundations. Whatever happened in Kornaria, Mavros had to remain true to those principles. The rock that he had thrown into the Kornariate’s face had to be his last violent act.

The sky in the east was lightening to grey and the vehicles in the convoy turned off their headlights, following an order from Haris, relayed by walkie-talkie.