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Home The Secret Exploits of Angevine Rose The Triakis Action (1) The Triakis Action (2)	The Secret Exploits of Angevine Rose The Triakis Action Copyright 2008 by M. Wolf Agios Stefanos
	III. "The Parthenon," said Hazard, reading from the tourist brochure, "is the most important monument of the ancient Greek civilization. Built between 447 and 438 B.C., it was dedicated to Athena Parthenos, the patron goddess of Athens." "My favorite goddess," said Angevine Rose idly. She wasn't even looking at the Parthenon. She'd seen it before. Instead she was surveying the crowd of people milling about atop the Acropolis, the Sacred Rock of Athens. Hazard glanced at her. She wore a very short sundress the color of her golden hair, and both hair and dress were whipped by the strong breeze sweeping the Sacred Rock, so that from where he was sitting he could see her white cotton panties -- which, of course, brought back memories of the night before in the Mykonos inn. She looked like a goddess, he thought, so fit and tanned, standing there framed against the brilliant blue of the sky and the splendor of the ancient ruins. He cleared his throat and returned his attention to the brochure. "Built in the Doric order, of Pentelic marble, the Parthenon is peripteral, with seventeen columns on each of the long sides and eight columns on each of the short sides." He glanced up at Angevine. "That's fifty columns in all, by the way." "Mmmhmm." He knew she wasn't the least bit interested, but he kept going. "The cella, or the center of the temple, once contained the famous chryselephantine statute of Athena...." "Tell me something," she said, interrupting him. "Why is it that every sneaky little clandestine-type rendezvous has to be held here, in the most popular place in Athens, in front of everybody?" "Uh..." Hazard shrugged. "Because those are the rules of the game." She glanced a him, a quirky smile curling the corner of her mouth. "Rules of what game?" "The spy game." "Then they lied to me. When I was recruited they promised I wouldn't have to play by any rules." "They lied. That's also in the rules of the game." She nodded, still smiling. "Let's walk?" They walked -- aimlessly, heading more or less towards the Temple of Athena Nike and the edge of the Acropolis, from which could be seen the panorama of Athens stretching out in all directions. The sun was at its zenith, a hot hammer on their shoulders. Hazard checked his watch -- again. It was ten minutes past noon. He didn't know who they were supposed to meet, but whoever it was was late. "Buy a picture, Mister? Miss?" Hazard looked behind him, and then down. A boy, perhaps ten years of age, was standing there, holding out a handful of postcards. "No thanks, kid." "Mister, you buy a picture." "Some other time. Now run along." The boy took one of the postcards from the bunch and held it out. "You must have this one, Mister." Hazard sighed and turned to Angevine. "Okay. How do you say 'get lost' in Greek?" She looked at the boy and smiled. "May I see?" The boy returned her smile with a broad grin of his own, and she bent over, one hand on her knee, the other lowering her sunglasses as she glanced at the postcard the boy pressed into her other hand. And then the boy turned and scampered off. Angevine straightened, glancing at the front of the card. It was a black-and-white shot of a large building perched atop a rocky promontory. She turned the card over and read the words NOON TOMORROW. The T had been printed upside down. Then she held the card out to Hazard, who was watching the boy disappear into a tour group. "Here," she said. "I don't want it." "Yes, you do." "No, I don't. I don't have anyone to write to." "Do you recognize this place?" Hazard took the card, studied the picture. "Sure. That's Agios Stefanos. It's a convent in Meteora." He turned the card over -- then looked at her. "Triakis?" "I just hope he hasn't joined the nunnery." Hazard stuck the postcard in a pocket of his jeans and started walking. Make contact with Triakis or a verifiable proxy... Those had been the orders, now carried out. At the Salonika safehouse he had gone over the procedures with Triakis, first thing. If for whatever reason we are separated and you need to contact us, be sure to include the words "I am cold I must be coming down with something" in any verbal communication, or, if it's written, write in capital letters and turn the first T upside down -- unless you are writing it under duress. So this was from Triakis, he thought, and not an effort by the Borodov cell to lure them into a trap. Not that Borodov would be so foolish. No, the KGB spymaster would wait, wait until they had found Triakis, before making his bid. Hazard was certain that Borodov had eyes on them at this very moment. But there was nothing they could do about that. They would go to Triakis and Borodov would follow. The only thing at issue was what happened after that. "There's a train that runs to Kalambaka," Hazard said. "I love trains," said Angevine, and followed. Standing at the base of a sheer cliff and craning her neck to study what he could see of Agios Stefanos, a collection of ancient structures perched at the very brink of the rocky promontory, Angevine Rose took off her sunglasses, squeezed the bridge of her aquiline nose between thumb and forefinger, and then shook her head. "I knew we forgot something," she said. "You didn't happen to bring a helicopter or a couple of jetpacks, did you?" "You know," drawled Hazard, "Meteora means 'hovering in the air'." "Don't start. I guess we hike. There's a trail...." "I have an idea. You hike up there and just toss Triakis down to me." She didn't dignify that with a response, and started off. Watching her walk away, Hazard decided there were worse fates than walking behind Angevine Rose. Today she wore faded bellbottom jeans and a baby blue windbreaker over a cream-colored halter top. Out of habit he threw a glance behind him, at the hazy valley which contained the town of Kastraki, from whence they had just come. It was at that point that he saw the shepherd. "Now what have we here?" he murmured. Angevine stopped, turned, looked at his partner, then followed his gaze to the man who stood about a hundred yards away, tending a small flock of sheep. The man was clearly more interested in the two strangers standing at the base of the cliff than in his flock, however. Seeing that he had their attention, he raised a hand. Not exactly a wave, but it was an acknowledgement. "Think he knows something we don't?" asked Hazard. "I hope so," replied Angevine, and led the way. The shepherd stood his ground as they approached. Long before they reached him they were sure it wasn't Triakis. He was a tall Greek man, his age indeterminate, his features as craggy as the cliffs of Meteora. He wore the usual garb of a Greek shepherd -- the baggy pants and white shirt, a black vest and cap. Angevine spoke to him affably in his native tongue, and the man responded readily. While he waited for the translation, Hazard warily watched the sheep grazing on the sparse but nutritious grass that grew in this rocky soil. "He says the man we've come to see is up there," Angevine said at last, and pointed at a jumble of boulders and stone spires just to the east of the Agios Stefanos promontory. Hazard grimaced. They had already assumed as much. Where better for Triakis than the high ground, from whence he could watch them -- and see if anyone was following. "Come on." This time he took the lead. They climbed for thirty minutes, ever higher into the rocks, and even though Hazard considered himself to be in peak physical condition it wasn't long before he  started to labor, so steep was the climb. Angevine, on the other hand -- he noticed with disgust -- didn't seem any the worse for wear after twenty minutes of rigorous ascent. They proceeded with caution, aware of the possibility that they could be walking into a trap. In spite of the care they took, though, Triakis surprised them. He stepped out from behind a jumble of boulders that stood so precariously on the treacherous slope that they seemed to defy the laws of gravity. The Russian scientist was wearing the same sort of garb as the shepherd below, but Angevine and Hazard knew him instantly. Still, she didn't lower the Beretta  that had appeared, as though by some sleight-of-hand, from beneath her windbreaker. Triakis held his arms out away from his sides. "Once upon a time," he said drily, "your orders were to keep me alive, Miss Rose. Have you new orders, then?" Angevine smiled sweetly and put the gun away. Triakis nodded curtly, threw a quick look around. "Come. We are too much in the open." They followed him another hundred yards up the slope and arrived at a cave. The entrance was small, hidden from view of prying eyes in the valley below by giant slabs of stone jutting up from the ground. Crouching, Triakis entered, Angevine and Hazard close behind. They were surprised by the roominess of the cavern. It stretched deeper into the heart of the mountain than the yellow light from a couple of kerosene lanterns could penetrate. There was a field cot there, a stack of crates over here, and a roughhewn table yonder. Several books and a half-full bottle of wine stood on the table. A two-burner kerosene stove was balanced on a cube of rock beside it. "Welcome to my home," said Triakis. "It is spartan, but sufficient. The first inhabitants of this area were monks who lived in caves like this -- perhaps even this one -- in the 11th century. During the Turkish occupation they moved higher to escape the Turks and the brigands who populated the valley below. Eventually they built their monasteries on the most inaccessible peaks." "Nice digs," murmured Angevine. She noted that Triakis had changed considerably in two months. He had a beard now, and he'd lost some weight. He was no longer the rather portly, rumpled scientist whose brain they had picked for three days in Salonika. He was darker, leaner, with haunted eyes. "No one could find me here -- unless I wanted to be found. The people watch out for me. They bring me food and drink. Newspapers and an occasional book. They think I am on the run from the government. They do not like the government here. They believe I am an important man." "I can't imagine where they got that idea," said Angevine coolly. She'd moved closer to the table, and then the photo caught her eye, a snapshot whose edge protruded from beneath a book. She slid it out and her features turned bleak as she saw that it was a picture of Triakis and Yasmin, standing by a car. It had been taken in Salonika; Triakis had insisted that Angevine snap the picture. "Put that down," snapped Triakis. Angevine glanced at him, her eyes like daggers of blue ice, then let the snapshot slip from her fingers. "It's all I have left," said the scientist, his voice ragged. "I gave up everything to be with her, you understand? I left my wife, my family, my country. She loved me. She said we would be together in Israel." "She was doing her job," said Angevine. "And when you stole her away from me," rasped Triakin, glaring, "were you doing your job?" "Hey," said Hazard, "can we save the recriminations for later?" He stepped up, toe to toe, with Triakis which, not incidentally, placed him between the scientist and his partner. "You sent for us. Okay, we're here. What do you want?" Triakis sighed, looked without pleasure at his surroundings. "I am ready to go to Israel. I cannot go home. They would not kill me -- what I know up here--" he tapped his temple "--is too valuable. But I do not want to face my family, my friends. So I will go to Israel. That is what Yasmin wanted. I will help the Israelis build their bomb. The question remains, can you get me there? That was your job before, and you failed." "We can try," said Hazard gravely. "But it's even more problematic now. You see, the bad guys were watching Ange, and now they know, generally speaking, where you are. So they'll be waiting for you to break cover." "And your people send just the two of you?" asked Triakis. He sounded more amused than anxious. "That's right," said Angevine. "We're it. The whole team. But not to worry." "You see," explained Scott, "we've got what we want from you. Our people are not going to risk an entire network on you now. Not even for the Israelis. And the Mossad won't buy in, either. You're too hot." "Positively radioactive, even," remarked Angevine, with a humorless smile. "We're here to tie up some loose ends, that's all." Triakis nodded. "That's what I want. When do we go?" Angevine shrugged, looked around the cave. "How long d'you think it will take you to pack? Five minutes?" "We've got a car down in Kastraki," said Hazard briskly. "We drive the few miles to Kalambaka and get on the train to Athens. We get you into our embassy there and they'll make arrangements for your transfer to the Israelis." "You go back to Kastraki. Be in front of the Rex Hotel in two hours. I will meet you there." Hazard glanced at Angevine, who shrugged her indifference. "Fine," said Hazard. "Just don't be late." "Don't worry," said Triakis. "As you Americans say, I wouldn't miss this for the world." They ha begun the long descent, and were far enough from the fugitive scientist's cave to not be overheard when Angevine said, "He just wants it to end, and he doesn't particular care how." Hazard nodded grimly. The ghost of Yasmin Liraz, he thought, was walking with them, and until that ghost was exorcized neither Angevine nor Triakis would find peace. He could hardly imagine the scientist's mental state now, after two months holed up in a cave, mourning the death of the woman he had loved -- and mourning, too, her betrayal of him -- while being seperated from the family he had himself betrayed. The car they had rented was an old, battered Sunbeam Alpine convertible with the top down -- it wouldn't go up -- and Hazard could only hope that it would make it the few miles to the Kalambaka train station without expiring. It certainly sounded as though it were about to give up the ghost every time they turned it on. And this would be a most inopportune a time for that, because his instincts were telling him -- screaming at him -- that the enemy was near. They had to be, if they were any good at all, and with Ilya Borodov running the show, they'd be better than good. He and Angevine were waiting, as agreed, in front of the Rex, the only hostelry worthy of the name in the picturesque village of Kastraki, with its quaint cottages and narrow, twisting streets. It was early afternoon and the sun was high in a brass-colored sky and it was very hot; Hazard was perspiring, but it wasn't entirely due to the heat. He was keeping one eye out for Triakis and the other out for the KGB, and the whole business was guaranteed to wrack a nerve or two. He noticed that Angevine looked cool as a cucumber, sitting behind the wheel with the door open and one long leg out of the car; she seemed to be idly watching the passersby. There were local people, in their distinctive garb, and some tourists, too, most of them rock-climbers who had come to test their skill on the surrounding cliffs. Finally Triakis came -- disguised as a shepherd, and accompanying the man with the flock of sheep who had directed Angevine and Hazard to the cave where the scientist had been hiding out the past two months. They were driving the sheep right up the road in front of the Rex, and a few of the tourists, thinking it an awfully quaint scene, were snapping pictures. As Triakis neared the car, Angevine swung her leg in and shut the door. Hazard remained standing on the passenger side until Triakis arrived; then he motioned for the scientist to get into the passenger seat while he vaulted with the agility of a natural athlete into the tight confines of the back. Angevine immediately started the car; the twin Stronberg carburetors coughed, gurgled and then the 1725cc engine gave a throaty roar and they were off, scattering the sheep and a few tourists, too. Hazard dared to begin thinking that they might just pull it off. He changed his mind two blocks later. Angevine went around a corner like she was driving in the Formula I race at Le Mans and then stomped on the breaks. The Sunbeam Alpine skidded to a halt inches away from an ancient produce truck whose driver was trying to back into an alley and, in the process, was blocking the entire road. "I've got behind us," said Hazard, and scanned the street in the direction from whence they'd come, as well as the buildings, his right hand snaking under his jacket to grip the .45 caliber Colt M1911A1 nestled in its shoulder rig. Angevine swung the door open and stood, half out of the car, leaning against the back of her seat, reaching under her windbreaker for the Beretta that was her weapon of choice, using the other hand to motion impatiently for the truck's driver to move his vehicle. The driver did just that, and Angevine quickly but thoroughly surveyed the street in front of her. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was about to drop down behind the wheel again when she did a double take -- and saw her. She was standing at the corner of a building not thirty yards ahead, looking straight at the Sunbeam. Yasmin. "Okay," said Hazard, his attention still focused on the street behind them. "let's go." Angevine didn't seem to hear him. Entranced, she slowly got out of the car. As she did, Yasmin disappeared behind the building. "Ange, what are you doing? Let's get out of here!" Angevine started to run. In seconds she had rounded the corner of the building and was out of sight. "Ange!" Scott jumped into the driver's seat. A heartbeat later the rearview mirror exploded, disintegrating into a spray of glass shards. "Ambush!" he shouted to Triakis. "Get out!" Triakis opened his door and Hazard gave him a shove, sending the scientist sprawling -- and sprawling on top of him as a second bullet shattered the Alpine's windshield. He was up in an instant, crouching beside the car, pistol drawn, risking a quick look. The shots had come from behind them, and long experience at being shot at suggested to Hazard that the shooter's position was above the street. He scanned the rooftops -- saw the sun flash off a barrel an instant before another bullet plowed into the Alpine's carriage work. "Where is she!" rasped Triakin, hunkered down beside the car next to Hazard. "Where the hell did she go?" "Don't worry about her. Just keep your head down." The shooter had a rifle and had them pinned down. Hazard decided it was a miracle that one or both of them hadn't been hit. He knew he couldn't count on more than one miracle a day. Worst of all, for the first time, he couldn't count on Angevine Rose either. continue