Dennis Wheatley - Mayhem in Greece

By then, half a dozen men had come into the dining room, but none of them was near enough to the table that Mahogany Brown had chosen to overhear their conversation; so, when they were settled at it again, Robbie asked:

'If the Russians do bore through the ice to depth-charge the submarine, what will happen? She must have a dozen or more missiles on board, so could fire them off. Won't the Russians be afraid that she may, and might blot out Moscow?'

'No, she couldn't do that. If she were clear of the ice and at sea, she could. But the several feet of ice on top of her would be certain to deflect the aim of the missiles. I don't know enough about it to speak for sure, but I think the chances are that hitting the solid ice would cause them to go off prematurely. In that case, the back blast would blow her to bits. Of course, it would put paid to any part of the Soviet Fleet that was within miles. But the Russians regard ships and men as expendable; so they wouldn't lose much sleep over the sinking of a few mine-laying vessels and, perhaps a couple of cruisers.'

'Say the worst happens,' Robbie enquired. 'How do you think things will go?'

Mahogany Brown poured some more vinegar over the stew he was eating, and shrugged. 'Your picture is probably as good as mine. Even if the Russians do strike first and blot out New York, Chicago, Detroit, London, Paris and various other big centres of production, we'll flatten Moscow, Leningrad, Kiev, Kharkhov, Warsaw, Prague and so on. But the earth is one hell of a big place and there's a limit to the damage that the I.C.B.M.s can do, even allowing for fall-out. After a few days the missiles will have been used up, then what's known as the "broken back" war will begin.'

Having tossed back half a glass of the Cretan wine they were drinking, he went on: 'As I see it, the big problem is going to be getting rid of the millions of dead before a plague sets in. But, providing an epidemic doesn't kill off those of us who are left, the survivors in the fighting services on both sides will gradually get themselves organized and set about having old-fashioned battles.'

'If they do, they will be pretty well back to bows and arrows.'

'Oh no; not necessarily. When I said old-fashioned, I meant sort of 1914-18, or maybe even 1939-45. There should be quite a few ships, aircraft and tanks left around, and the winner is going to be the side that's got the oil to run them. That's why, strategically speaking, the Aegean is so important. Nine-tenths of Russia's oil is concentrated in the Caucasus and Rumania. The nearer our subs can get to those fields, the more accurate the aim of their missiles will be. They daren't go through the Bosphorous into the Black Sea. That would be too risky. But you can be sure we have a number of them sitting on the bottom of the Aegean right now, ready to blast off at the word "go"; so as to make certain of putting the Soviet oil wells out of business even before the "broken back" war gets going.'

They finished off their meal with slices of an incredibly sweet cake that consisted of crystallized fruit, then had Turkish coffee and Greek brandy. As they were about to leave the table, Mahogany Brown said: 'I shall get on to my Chief tonight, to let him know that bit you picked up today about dropping things down grottoes, and urge that he have another crack at the Greeks to go in and find out what it is the Czechs mean to drop. For the moment, 1 don't see what else we can do. But I'd like you to keep in touch, because a lone wolf like you can sometimes do things that I'm barred from doing unless I go against Standing Orders and risk blotting my copy-book. Look in at the

Candia Palace, just along the street here, round midday tomorrow, will you?'

Robbie promised to do so, then the American said: 'Just one other thing. I'm holding you to your word not to mention to Madame Barak anything we've discussed. How she saved her pretty neck after she was supposed to have gone over that precipice in your car I wouldn't know, and I'm not asking. But one thing I am certain about. It is that the Czechs fixed it that you should take her with you when you left Athens, so that she could report back to them how much you were finding out. Maybe that's news to you. If so, I'm sorry to have spoiled any illusions you may have about her having gone with you all for love. But there it is. She started out on the other side, and maybe is so still. So, for the sake of the Europe that you evidently like, not to mention the old U.S. that means a lot to me, you've really got to watch your step with her.'

With a rueful grin, Robbie replied: 'Since you know so much I'll admit that, to begin with, she was acting under her husband's orders. But after we met Barak on the mountain road, he pushed her over the precipice and I had the luck to save her. As a result of that, she is completely through with him and has come over to us.'

'Maybe she is through with him as a person. If they had still been turtle-doves, it's odds-on he would have found some other cutie to lead you up the garden path. But, in my experience, once a Communist always a Communist, with only remarkably rare exceptions; so keep on loving her plenty if you wish, but do it with your mouth shut.'

After spending another far from comfortable night in his draughty hide-out, Robbie went to a barber's, had himself shaved, then met Stephanie on the corner of Liberty Square. As soon as he was in the car, she said with an excitement which she could not altogether conceal: 'At the G.P.O. I picked up a letter from Vaclav. He is arriving by the evening plane and, as I suggested, has asked me to meet him.'

'Thank God for that!' Robbie exclaimed. 'I can't say that I am looking forward to taking him to pieces, but the way things are developing, it has become terribly urgent to force him to talk. I've just got to put any scruples about fair play behind me.'

'How did you get on last night with Henry?' she asked.

'Very well, although he's still no wiser than we are about the so-called oil prospecting. I told him that your husband had tried to do you in, and that you had since come over to us. But he wouldn't take my word for that. I have to meet him at the Candia Palace at midday.'

'Then that knocks on the head a trip down to Malea to see the windmills. We couldn't possibly get back in time. How would you like to fill in the morning?'

'We might run out to Knossos and spend an hour there. I'm sure there are lots of it that we haven't yet seen.'

Without comment she accepted his suggestion and, twenty minutes later, they left the car in the parking place, took tickets and again made their way across to the vast pile of ruins.

After exploring the treasury and store-rooms on the eastern side of the slope and admiring the giant oil jars which—shades of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves—could each have held four men, they made their way up again to the reconstructed parts with their curious red pillars, broader at the top than at the base, and gaily painted walls. For the second time they strolled through the room of the Double Axes, the room of the Dolphin frescoes and the Throne Room, in which the throne—a leaf-back stone chair with a hollowed seat, and the oldest throne in the world—still stood.

In all the principal rooms, to one side or in a corner, steps led down to a sunken area several feet below the level of the floor. On their first visit, a guide had told them that these pits had been filled with sacred water, because the Minoans were so superstitious that they were constantly feeling the need to purify themselves by total immersion.

Looking down into one of the pits, Stephanie remarked: 'You know, I can't believe that a people so civilized as the Minoans were so obsessed by their religion that, every time they ate or kissed or told a naughty story, they felt such a compulsion to cleanse themselves by jumping into holy water that they couldn't wait but had to have a bath of it in every room.'