‘For my mother!’ she cried out exultantly. ‘For my father!’
She worked the bolt and looked for a new target as bullets stitched into the ground close by and she heard a pained grunt. Glancing aside she saw one of the
andartes
clutching his shoulder where a bullet had torn through his flesh. He gasped and then another bullet smashed through his eye and burst out of the back of his head and his body slumped lifelessly.
‘Fall back!’ Andreas shouted. ‘To the cliff. Go!’
He rose on to one knee and fired a burst ahead and then one more to each side, then ran to Eleni and hauled her to her feet. ‘You too!’
Before she could protest he dragged her away from the treeline into the shade of the thicker undergrowth and then they fled, heads down as bullets zipped overhead crashing through the trees. Andreas dropped back a little and tried to place his body between Eleni and the German fire. The two dodged round a tree and then he saw the cliff face a short distance away. The Germans would not be able to get their armoured cars through the trees and would now have to send their men in to finish the job. It would not change the outcome, Andreas knew, but it would give the
andartes
a chance to inflict a few more casualties before they were wiped out. There were a few outcrops in the cliff that would afford them a little cover for their last stand.
‘Over there!’ He pointed to where there was an open strip of ground close to the bottom of the path leading up to the cave. He swerved towards it and then heard Eleni stumble behind him. Cursing, he scrabbled to a stop and turned. Eleni lay on the ground a few paces back, face down. She had dropped her rifle a short distance away. The impact had driven the breath from her lungs and she gasped as she tried to push herself up. Andreas ran back to her and threw his spare hand around her thin body to help raise her up. She cried out in pain and when he removed his hand he saw the glistening red stain across his skin.
‘Eleni . . . You’re hit.’
Her head rolled to the side and she looked up at him, dark eyes staring intently. ‘I’m sorry.’
He laid her down again and pulled the dark cloth of her shirt up and sucked in his breath as he saw the dark hole in her side and the blood pulsing from the wound.
‘Oh God, Eleni. No.’ Snatching at his neck cloth he wiped the blood away and and pressed it to the wound. Then he took her hand and clasped it over the cloth as he spoke. ‘You must hold this in place. Tightly. Understand?’
She nodded, her brow creasing in pain now that the initial shock of the wound was passing. ‘I’m sorry . . . So sorry.’
‘Later.’ Andreas picked his Marlin up and slung it, then bent down and picked her up in his arms.
‘Leave me,’ Eleni gasped. ‘Leave me. Save yourself, my love.’
Andreas shook his head and started towards the open ground. About him he could hear the sounds of men rushing through the trees, the shouts of the enemy as they closed in, and he felt a building rage of hopelessness burn in his throat as stumbled forward, heart torn by the desire to do the only thing that mattered to him now, to try and save her.
Someone blundered through the undergrowth close by and he dropped to one knee, supporting Eleni as he grasped the Marlin in one hand and raised the muzzle towards the sound, ready to open fire.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Y
annis burst out between the gorse bushes, face and hands scratched, and juddered to a halt as he saw the raised sub-machine gun. Andreas puffed out a breath and laughed nervously. Yannis stared wildly at him and grinned briefly before his attention turned to Eleni.
‘Oh no . . .’
‘Give me a hand here,’ Andreas ordered and the older man hurried over and helped his leader as they took one of her arms each so that they might still have a free hand for their weapons.
‘I saw two of the lads go down on the way through the trees,’ Yannis panted. ‘Don’t know who is left.’
They kept close to the foot of the cliff as they made for the end of the path, constantly casting glances towards the shadows under the trees to their left. When they reached the loose boulders by the cut-back bushes they lowered Eleni, who was moaning through gritted teeth. Hurriedly removing her sheepskin jacket, Andreas pulled up her shirt to see that the bullet had passed clean through.
‘I have to stop the bleeding.’ He looked up at Yannis but did not have to explain his request.
‘You take her my
kapetan
. I’ll hold them off. Get her up to the cave. It’s the only chance you’ve got,
kapetan
.’
They both knew that it would only be a temporary reprieve. Once in the cave he and Eleni would be trapped. Andreas nodded a brief farewell and then picked her up and put her over his right shoulder. Eleni cried out in agony and writhed.
‘Don’t, Eleni! For the love of Holy God . . .’ Andreas growled as he trod the narrow path as swiftly as he could, clutching the guide rope in his spare hand. If the Germans emerged from the trees now they would see the two of them at once and shoot them down. There was nothing he could do except trust to Yannis to keep them back long enough for him to make the climb. The sound of firing from the trees had stopped and the voices of the enemy were drawing closer as they edged cautiously towards the cliff. There were still several metres to go to the mouth of the cave when he heard a shout and glanced down to see a soldier raising his rifle. Before he could fire, there was a shot and the man stumbled back wounded. Another German appeared and quickly fired. Andreas felt the bullet strike his thigh like a hammer blow but he managed to keep upright and ground his teeth as he stumbled on.
‘German bastards!’ he heard Yannis shout. ‘Over here!’
There was a sharp exchange of fire, but one German still had the presence of mind to shoot at the figures on the cliff and Andreas was struck again, this time in the side, and he threw his head back and cried out, then hurled himself forward into the cave. Eleni fell to the ground beside him. The second wound felt like a burning rod had been thrust through his stomach and he gasped for breath as he fought the pain. His mind was still clear enough to grab Eleni and draw her further inside the cave before he gently laid her on her back and struggled to control his own pain.
‘Eleni . . . this is going to hurt,’ he said to her as he ripped strips from her shirt and hesitated before he plugged them into the wounds to try and stem the flow. He ripped the rest of the shirt into strips leaving only her stained chemise and tied them round her to act as a dressing. Then he shuffled back against the side of one of the crates and looked to his own injuries. His leg was bleeding badly. He took off his belt and fastened it as tightly as he could over the hole torn by the bullet. He knew his stomach wound was serious before he even looked at it and the pain was as intense as any he had ever felt. His breathing became shallow as he tried to control the burning spasms that came each time he moved.
Then he saw the detonator and the wires leading to the charges in the cave, as well as those trailing outside to the charges set in the cliff. There was one last thing he could do in defiance of the enemy, and one final hope for survival. But only for Eleni. Gritting his teeth, Andreas picked up the detonator and hurriedly began to attach the ends of the wires to the terminals. Outside he heard Yannis shout one last time and then there was a final burst of automatic fire and the shooting stopped and the valley fell quiet again.
The driver looked up from the rear of the car and shook his head gently. Beneath him, Steiner moaned feebly as his eyes rolled up in his head. The breast of his tunic was stained with blood, seeping out around the fingers of the driver as he tried to apply pressure to the wound.
Peter had ripped open a dressing from the first-aid box but now hesitated as he saw the look on the driver’s face.
‘There must be something . . .’
‘No, sir.’
Peter’s shoulders slumped as looked down at Steiner. He was gasping for breath. He suddenly stared straight up and fixed his eyes on Peter and smiled thinly. ‘Muller . . . I’m finished.’
‘We’re doing what we can to—’
‘Save your breath, Muller.’ Steiner’s face screwed up in agony for a moment and then it eased. ‘Before I am done, you should know something. Your father was a good man. A good man, but a fool. And a traitor.’
Peter felt surprise and then a flash of anger before Steiner continued.
‘He was involved with a small cell of other academics and students who were publishing pamplets undermining the Führer. That was why he was brought in for questioning . . . He was starved, beaten and deprived of sleep. He was raving in the end. That’s when he first mentioned the cave and the tomb. One of the interrogators realised the significance of what your father was babbling about. That’s when I was called in . . .’ Steiner smiled coldly. ‘I watched them try to beat it out of the old man. He recovered his wits towards the end and died trying to protect his secret . . . The location of the tomb. But I found it anyway.’ Steiner’s lips curled into a sneer. ‘I found the tomb!’
Realisation flooded into Peter’s mind and he felt sick. Sick and disgusted as he stared down at Steiner. Peter was still for a moment and then tossed the dressing away and climbed out of the car and turned away. He could hear the pained gasping for breath as Steiner bled to death. But there was no pity in his heart. None at all. Only a terrible grief and anger at discovering the truth of his father’s death.
There was a faint, gurgling cry from the vehicle and then what seemed like a long silence.
‘He’s gone, sir.’ The driver looked up from the corpse.
Peter found that his hands were trembling and he bunched them into fists at his side as he turned to look over the side of the car at Steiner’s body. The neat grey uniform was now drenched in blood and the Sturmbannführer’s head lolled to the side, jaws slack as if he was about to speak, his eyes staring unblinking at the back of the driver’s seat.
‘Cover him up,’ Peter ordered as he turned away. He glanced down and saw that his own uniform was smeared and spattered with the other officer’s blood and tried not to shudder as he strode towards the trucks. The nearest one was still burning fiercely. Steiner had been furious with the fools in the leading armoured car who had opened fire as soon as they had seen the vehicles and the
andartes
. If any of the contents of the tomb had been destroyed he had sworn to have the crew disciplined. His death would be a small mercy for them at least, Peter mused. The heat from the flames struck him a stinging blow and he raised his arm to shield his face as he worked around the back of the truck. Through the flames he saw that the bed of the vehicle was empty and gave a sharp sigh of relief. There was nothing in the other trucks either and he looked over the bodies of the Greeks scattered around the trucks. They must have removed the crates, he realised. But where had they taken them? And what still remained in the cave? He had to ensure that what was left was saved.
Drawing his pistol he moved towards the trees, cautiously watching for any sign of the enemy as he advanced, even though there was no sound of any firing. He passed the line of armoured cars. Their engines were ticking over and the crews had opened their hatches now that the action seemed to be over. There were two dead soldiers a short distance from the trees and others were helping wounded comrades back towards the sheds at the dig site to have their injuries seen to.
Peter stopped the nearest of them. ‘Where is your officer?’
‘Hauptmann Schoner?’ The soldier turned and pointed in the direction of the cave. ‘Over there, sir. That’s where the last of the bastards is holding out.’
Peter nodded and entered the treeline. Almost at once he came across the first of the Greeks, his head reduced to a shapeless bloody mass by the impact of bullets. He encountered two more bodies as he passed through the low boughs and undergrowth, before emerging a short distance from the cliff. There were more soldiers, standing in groups and talking cheerfully, as they had come through the action unscathed. Others, perhaps less experienced, stared into the mid-distance, numbed by the noise and the terror of the brief but vicious firefight. It took a moment to spot the officer, standing with several of his men at the foot of the path leading up to the cave. Peter saw the body of an older man lying close by, curled into a ball on his side, the ground beneath him dark with blood.
Schoner looked up at his approach. ‘Ah, Muller. Where’s your friend, Steiner?’
‘The Sturmbannführer is dead, sir.’
‘Really?’ Schoner looked surprised. ‘That’s too bad. But we seem to have got all the bastards who gunned our lads down this morning. Still not quite sure what they were doing up here in the first place, mind you.’ He shot Peter an enquiring look. ‘Care to enlighten me?’
‘I am sorry, sir. I am under Steiner’s orders not to say.’
‘That’s somewhat academic now he’s dead.’
‘His instructions came straight from Berlin, sir. From Reichsführer Himmler.’
Schoner stiffened at the name. Then he turned towards the crate still standing at the base of the cliff and the ropes leading up to the cave. ‘I take it that has something to do with it. What can you tell me, Leutnant?’
‘All I can say is that your comrades were retrieving items vital to the Reich. They died trying to protect them and now we need to recover them and ensure they are sent to Germany safely. Those were Steiner’s orders, and now I must see them through.’
‘I see. I take it you are assuming responsibility here?’
Peter hesitated. He was outranked, but clearly Schoner did not want to risk incurring the wrath of Himmler if anything went wrong. ‘That’s right, sir. These are your men, but until we have carried out our purpose here I will have to see that the Sturmbannführer’s orders are carried out. If you are agreeable?’
Schoner smiled. ‘I would rather it was your funeral, Leutnant Muller. I will do as you direct me.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Sir!’ A soldier interrupted them and the officers turned to see one of the mountain troops had started a short distance up the path. ‘Look there.’
They followed the direction he indicated and saw a streak of blood on the rock beside the path. Then Peter saw another higher up and quietly pointed it out to Schoner. ‘At least one of them is still alive. Up there in the cave.’
He pointed to where the ropes disappeared into the hidden entrance.
‘A cave, you say?’ Schoner nodded. ‘We’ll deal with them easily enough. A few grenades will do the trick.’
‘No,’ Peter replied. ‘No grenades, sir.’
Schoner frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘There’s a risk that you will damage the contents of the cave.’
‘Shit . . . I assume that means no shooting either.’
‘I’m afraid not, sir.’
Schoner swore bitterly. ‘I hope it’s worth it, Muller.’
Peter did not reply and the other officer hissed with contempt and turned to the man who had spotted the blood. ‘Schenke, there’s a cave up there. Take two men and clear it.’
‘Yes, sir!’
‘No grenades, no guns. Just bayonets, Schenke.’
The soldier hesitated. ‘Sir?’
‘You heard me. Get moving.’
The soldier reluctantly gathered two of his comrades and they set their weapons down and started up along the path towards the mouth of the cave as the two officers and their comrades watched from below. Schenke slowed down as he approached the spur of rock that hid the entrance to the cave and drew his bayonet and turned to his comrades to indicate that they should do the same. Then the three men crept forward and Schenke disappeared into the cave. A moment later there were two muffled shots and a shout from one of the soldiers and then Schenke’s comrades shuffled away from the cave entrance.
‘They got him! They shot Schenke.’
Schoner swore and turned to Peter with an angry look. ‘No grenades and no firearms, and now one of my men is down.’
‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘Sorry isn’t good enough, Muller. Look here, you speak Greek, right?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then you go up there and tell those peasant bastards to surrender. Tell them that if they don’t we’ll starve ’em out. Then we’ll hand them over to the Gestapo. Tell them that if they surrender now I will do what I can to see that they aren’t executed. Is that clear?’
Peter nodded.
‘Then get up there, Muller.’ He half-patted, half-thrust Peter towards the foot of the path and ordered Schenke’s comrades to come down. Once the way was clear, Peter swallowed nervously and with both hands on the guide rope he climbed towards the cave. His heart began to beat fast against his ribs and he felt his mouth grow dry and licked his lips and coughed. Then he was at the finger of rock in front of the cave and he stopped.
‘You inside the cave!’ he called out in Greek. ‘My superior officer demands that you surrender. If you come out then he will do his best to ensure that you are treated fairly.’
‘Fuck you, German dog!’ a strained voice shouted back. ‘Come and get us!’
Peter looked down towards Schoner and shrugged. ‘They say no, sir.’
‘Try again! Try harder!’
He steeled his nerves and took another step forward, then saw the wires leading out of the cave and up into the rocks either side. At once he knew what they portended and felt terror, not just for himself, but for the incalculable loss to civilisation if the cave and its contents were destroyed. Clearing his throat, Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He leaned forward and waved it over the entrance to the cave.