The Dark Side of the Island

Lomax turned and went back up the steps into the hot sunlight. He crossed the road on the run and moved along the wharf.

The steamer was almost ready to leave and he could see Papademos up on the bridge leaning out of an open window, shouting down orders to the sailors on the pier as they started to loosen the mooring ropes.

There were perhaps two dozen people standing about in small groups. Alexias leaned against a pillar, a cigar between his teeth, and little Nikoli with the scarred face stood with him.

It was Nikoli who saw Lomax first and he tugged at the big man’s sleeve and pointed and Alexias said something quickly and every head turned.

Half of them were young waterfront layabouts in brightly checked shirts, hair carefully curled over their collars. They were of a type to be found in every country in the world. Mean vicious young animals who thrived on trouble.

One of them turned and made a remark and they all laughed and then Lomax saw Dimitri at the back of them. He was leaning against a windlass, a cigarette smouldering between his lips as he shaved a piece of wood with his gutting knife.

As Lomax approached, the crowd parted and he paused a couple of feet away from Dimitri. The bouzouki player was humming tunelessly to himself. He didn’t even bother to raise his head.

Alexias moved forward, Nikoli at his side. ‘This is the wrong time to seek trouble, Lomax. The boat leaves in five minutes.’

Lomax turned very slowly and looked at him contemptuously. ‘When I want to hear from you I’ll let you know. Once you were a man, but now...’

As he turned away, Dimitri reached to the cobbles for another piece of wood and Lomax kicked it out of his way.

Dimitri looked up slowly. His eyes were very pale, the pupils like pin-points. He still kept on humming to himself, but a muscle twitched spasmodically at one side of his jaw.

‘With children and dogs you’re quite a man,’ Lomax said clearly so that all could hear. ‘How about trying someone a little nearer your own size?’

One moment, the bouzouki player was lolling back against the windlass, the next he had moved forward, the knife cutting upwards like molten silver in the sunlight.

Lomax could have broken the arm with supreme ease. Instead, he pivoted and chopped down with the edge of his hand. Dimitri screamed, dropping the knife, and Lomax kicked it over the edge of the pier into the water.

He felt completely cool and without fear. It was as if that other, younger man had returned to take over. The one who had been trained to use such methods until they were a reflex action.

There was an ugly murmur from Dimitri’s friends, but he held up a hand and shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was curiously remote and far away. ‘I’ll break his neck as easily as I did the dog’s.’

All work had ceased on the ship and everyone waited. As Lomax circled warily, he saw people hurrying along the waterfront and then an old jeep appeared from a side street and braked to a halt and Katina and Yanni got out.

A segull cried harshly and swooped down and Dimitri jumped in close, his right fist swinging in a tremendous punch.

To Lomax the blow seemed to travel in slow motion. He swerved slightly, allowing the bouzouki player to plunge past him, and slashed him across the kidneys with the edge of his hand.

Dimitri screamed and fell to the cobbles. For a little while he stayed there on his hands and knees and when he got to his feet, he was slobbering like an animal.

He lurched forward again and Lomax grabbed for his wrist with both hands and twisted it round and up so that he held him in a Japanese shoulder lock. Dimitri screamed again and still keeping that terrible hold in position, Lomax ran him head-first into a stack of iron-bound crates.

There was a gasp from the crowd and Lomax stood back and waited. Dimitri grabbed for a chain and heaved himself to his feet. When he turned, his face was a mask of blood. His hand slipped from the chain as he took one tottering step forward and collapsed.

There was a moment of stunned silence and then a spontaneous roar of anger from Dimitri’s friends. As Lomax turned, they came forward with a rush.

He swung a fist into the first face and then a foot caught him on the shin and he cried out and started to sag. As he bent over, a knee lifted into his face and the cobbles rose to meet him.

He rolled desperately, face tucked into his shoulder, hands protecting his genitals, and then a shot echoed flatly across the water and then another.

It was as if all the clocks in the world had stopped at the same moment. Dimitri’s friends moved back reluctantly and Lomax scrambled to his feet.

Father John Mikali stood a few feet away and Kytros was at his side, automatic in one hand, the other hooked into his belt. He looked very calm and completely in control.

Lomax stood there, his body aching, the taste of blood in his mouth, and Kytros said quietly, ‘The boat is waiting for you, Captain Lomax.’

Lomax turned and looked at Alexias. On the big man’s face was something that might almost have been respect, but there was more also. A slight frown of bewilderment as if for the first time he was unsure of himself and of the situation.

Lomax took a deep breath to clear his head and turned. He brushed past the sergeant and walked back along the pier and the people moved silently to each side.

From somewhere a thousand miles away he could hear Papademos shouting to his men and the rattle of the anchor chain and there was a roaring in his ears.

Katina was there, her arms around him and Yanni, his face white with excitement. She led him to the jeep and the boy opened the door and Lomax slumped into the passenger seat.

She climbed behind the wheel and leaned across to wipe blood from his face. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked calmly.

He could feel her hand trembling and he held it for a moment and smiled. ‘A good thing Kytros arrived when he did. I’m getting a little old to be playing that kind of game.’

She drove away quickly, scattering the crowd, and turned the jeep expertly into the narrow side street.

‘Where are we going?’ he said.

‘To the hotel for your things. Afterwards I’ll take you out to the villa. Oliver would want me to.’

She turned into the square and braked to a halt in front of the hotel. As she started to get out, Lomax laid a hand on her arm. ‘Not you, only me.’ He climbed down and walked round to the other side. ‘I could do with some time to think this thing out.’

She looked down at him gravely. ‘Just as you like.’

‘Are you going to keep Yanni with you?’

She nodded. ‘I think it would be better.’

He smiled and ran his fingers through the boy’s tousled hair. ‘We’ll find you another dog, Yanni.’

He moved between the tables and just as he reached the door she called to him. When he turned he saw that she was unfastening a chain that hung around her neck.

She threw it to him, liquid gold in the sun, and he caught it, closing his hand over it at once, knowing what it was.

‘I give you back your courage,’ she said, and drove away very quickly.

He went into the cool darkness, aware of Anna’s frightened face peering at him from the kitchen doorway and the stairs seemed to stretch into eternity.

When he reached his room, he closed the door very carefully and stood with his back against it staring at his clenched right hand with the two ends of gold chain hanging down. After a while, he opened it gently and looked at the small bronze coin that bore the face of Achilles.

A long time ago, he thought. A hell of a long time ago. He lit a cigarette and went and lay on his back on the bed and stared blindly into the past.

Book Two

The Nightcomer

Chapter 5

Cover of Darkness

It was the throb of the diesels that brought Lomax awake with a start. He lay there for a moment on the bunk, staring up at the steel bulkhead, a slight frown on his face as he tried to remember where he was.

After a while, something clicked and he pushed himself up on one elbow. Alexias was sprawled in a canvas chair in the far corner watching him.

The Greek removed the cigarette that smouldered between his lips and grinned. ‘You talk in your sleep, my friend. Did you know that?’

‘That’s all I needed,’ Lomax said. ‘Have you got one of those to spare?’

The Greek nodded and rose to his feet. He was a big, dangerous looking man badly in need of a shave and his massive shoulders swelled under the blue reefer jacket.

‘I think that maybe you’ve been playing this game too long,’ he said as he gave Lomax a cigarette and struck a match.

‘Haven’t we all?’

Before the Greek could reply, the curtain was pulled back and Sergeant Boyd appeared with two cups of coffee. He gave one to Alexias and the other to Lomax who took a sip and grimaced. ‘Everything tastes of submarine. I don’t know how they put up with it.’

Boyd was a big, dependable northerner with the ribbon of the Military Medal sewn neatly into place above his left breast pocket beneath the SAS wings.

‘We’ve just surfaced,’ he said. ‘Commander Swanson asked me to tell you to be ready to go in fifteen minutes.’

‘Is all the gear ready?’

Boyd nodded. ‘I had to occupy myself somehow. Couldn’t sleep. Never can in these things.’

‘How do you feel?’ Lomax asked.

‘About the job?’ Boyd shrugged. ‘The same as usual. Why?’

Lomax shook his head. ‘No special reason. We seem to have been doing this sort of thing rather frequently lately, that’s all. We can’t last for ever, you know.’

‘Neither can the war,’ Boyd told him. ‘In any case, it’s fifty-fifty every time. Even I know that much mathematics.’

‘I don’t know,’ Lomax said. ‘This one’s different. In Crete, a man could run a long way in those mountains, but Kyros is a small island.’

‘We’ve been on small islands before,’ Boyd told him. ‘Besides, we’ve got Alexias here to show us around. We’ll be all right.’

Alexias grinned and his teeth looked very white against the dark stubble of his beard. ‘Sure, everything’s going to be fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.’

‘Who said I was worried?’ Lomax swung his legs to the floor. ‘You two get the stuff together. I’ll see you up top in five minutes.’

After they had gone, he sat there on the edge of the bunk finishing his coffee. It tasted foul, but then so did the cigarette.

He was tired, that was the trouble. Too damned tired and everything was beginning to blur a little at the edges. He definitely needed a rest after this one. A month in Alex should do it, but he’d been promised that for a year now. He pulled on his sheepskin coat, reached for his beret and moved outside.

He moved through into the control room and mounted the conning-tower ladder to the bridge. Above him, the round circle of the night was scattered with brilliant stars and he breathed the fresh salt air deep into his lungs and suddenly felt better.

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