Kingdoms Fall - The Laxenburg Message (21 page)

           
“Yes, I agree, sir” said Mahon. “And I have three thousand British soldiers who
must be brought ashore, with the General’s permission, sir.”

           
“As you know, General Mahon, Greece is still a neutral country, and we cannot
simply agree to provide your armies with safe harbor. A military landing by
Great Britain and France in the territory of Greece – and we do expect such a
landing to take place – must be made under formal protest. However, if a
reasonable number of soldiers come ashore on a humanitarian mission for the
purpose of assisting
and protecting
the Serbian refugees, as I expect
you will agree they must, then General Zymvrakakis and Minister Zannas offer
their assurances to you that neither the armed forces of Greece nor its
gendarmes will interfere or obstruct you in any way. Their envoy Nikolaos
Politis,” who nodded to General Mahon, “will be available at your request to
resolve the details as to the landing and accommodations and so forth. Is that
clear?”

           
“It is not clear at all, sir,” said Mahon impatiently.

           
“Very good then,” said Venizelos, who stood without responding to Mahon, and
every other man at the table followed his lead and stood as well. “I believe
that will conclude our discussion. By the way, General, I recently had the
opportunity to meet a very pleasant young British officer who I believe is
standing over there against the wall,” gesturing to where Wilkins stood by the
door.

           
Mahon looked. “Good Lord, is that Wilkins?”

           
“Ah, then you know each other already,” said Venizelos. “I am certain you would
like to have an opportunity to speak together. We will leave the room to you.
Good evening, General.”

           
Venizelos and the forty or so other Greek officials filed slowly and silently
out of the dining room, finally shutting the doors and leaving the dumbfounded
British delegation alone with Wilkins.

           
“Captain Wilkins, what the devil are you doing here and what is going on?”
demanded Mahon.

           
“Sir, General Hamilton sent me to Greece in advance of the landing, and it has
been my honor to spend the past few days with Prime Minister Venizelos and
several members of the Greek military. I believe I have a fairly good
understanding of what is happening.”

           
“Sir Ian is on
Aeneas
now with the Tenth Irish Division waiting to come
ashore, Captain, so please explain very quickly.”

           
“I believe you have just seen the beginning of a
coup d’état
, sir.
Venizelos resigned as Prime Minister when he learned that King Constantine had
traded Greek territory for a promise of security from Germany. However,
Venizelos now controls the northern parts of Greece through his
constitutionally-appointed colleagues. General Zymvrakakis has clear authority
to declare martial law, and now that he has, he is evidently prepared to do
whatever Venizelos requests. And, although Greece remains officially neutral,
Venizelos needs a number of British troops here to protect him from the King,
to aid the Serbians, and to keep the Bulgarians out of Greece. But I believe in
the end the Prime Minister means to unseat the King, and that would be to Great
Britain’s great tactical advantage.”

           
“I can’t pretend to understand what you are getting at, Wilkins, so you had
better come with me to
Aeneas
and discuss this with Sir Ian directly.
This is entirely above my authority. My adjutants will stay here to discuss the
details of the landing with that fellow Politis. That is, if we are still going
to have a landing.”

           
Gresham awoke early. Beside him, beneath the blankets, Reta Häberlin still
slept, naked and warm. Gresham ran his hand through her short blonde hair, and
she pressed back against him. He would have liked to awaken her to spend the
day making love. But he needed to somehow find the German agent that threatened
Great Britain’s one indispensable ally in Greece. After considering the matter
awhile, Gresham decided that Häberlin’s own “intelligence” reporting was of no
significant concern. She was right that anything the British did in Salonika
was very much public knowledge anyway, and she had every right to do as she
pleased in the neutral country as long as she was not working as an undeclared
agent of the German government. Gresham dressed quietly and jotted a short note
in Häberlin’s notebook:  “I will return tonight - David.”

           
In the lobby, Gresham ran into Griffith. The old doctor was by himself,
drinking tea and eating a soft boiled egg in the lounge.

           
“Good morning, Captain. I imagined you would be down early, what with the
landing and all.”

           
“So it has begun already? I saw the first transport ship enter the bay last
night,” said Gresham.

           
“Oh no; indeed no. But there’s to be a formal landing and parade this morning,
I’m told. The Greek Prime Minister has also arrived from Athens, and General
Hamilton is on the transport ship himself. It’s quite an event.”

           
The mention of the Prime Minister raised Gresham’s hopes that Wilkins had
finally arrived from Athens. There were few hotels in Salonika, so Gresham knew
he would be easy to find.

           
“Doctor, I apologize for prying, but while I have you alone, I have a question
about Miss Häberlin. It’s just because of her German accent, and perhaps I am
being overly cautious, but are you quite certain she is a nurse from
Switzerland?”

           
“Yes, yes, my boy. Have no worry there. She was working with the Swiss
delegation here in Salonika when we arrived from England. It was our suggestion
that she join us in Prilep.”

           
“I’m happy to hear it. She mentioned yesterday that she might stay in Salonika
and help with the Serbian refugees. Have you considered that yourself?”

           
“I fear that is exactly what we will have to do. Perhaps you have not heard,
but the Austrians entered Serbia again yesterday. With the Bulgarians ready to
invade as well, there will be no going into Serbia; only coming out. And there
will be a great deal to do here.”

           
“I am convinced, Doctor, that the Austrians and Bulgarians together will likely
sweep through Serbia in a matter of weeks. If you stay here, I do not doubt the
Serbian people will come to you.”

           
“That is what we most fear, and what has kept us from pressing for passage
north. Doctors Killington and Smith-Davies and I have no desire to practice
medicine in a war zone, retreating every night, and losing more patients than
we can save. As for Miss Sandes, however, I fear there will be no stopping her.
She is determined to return to Serbia regardless.”

           
“Perhaps if the British forces advance north, she could accompany them? I plan
to visit the port this morning and see if anyone I know is around. Perhaps I
can arrange something for Miss Sandes.”

           
“That would be most kind, Captain. We would all be more comfortable knowing
Miss Sandes would be safely in the hands of the British army if she insists on
traveling to Serbia.”

           
Gresham left the hotel and walked down to the port. The sailors at the one
small tender from
Aeneas
gave him directions to the Prime Minister’s
residence, so Gresham decided to at least see if Wilkins was there. Gresham was
standing in the front hall of the town house on Aristotelous Street, waiting
for someone who could speak English, when a well-dressed and very anxious Greek
gentleman came down the stairs and rushed up to meet him.

           
“My name is Zannas,” he said quietly. “Please come with me.” He led Gresham by
the arm back through the house to the courtyard behind the kitchens. After
checking to see that they would not be overhead, Zannas at last relaxed.

           
“Captain Gresham, I am in charge of the Gendarmes and a close associate of
Mister Venizelos. I was advised by Captain Wilkins that you might come here.”

           
Gresham nodded. “Is Captain Wilkins here? I wish to see him.”

           
“No. He is aboard the
Aeneas
with General Hamilton now. They will be
returning shortly for the landing. However, you will be of much more use to us
if you remain away from this house. Do you understand?”

           
“Yes, I understand that. Will you inform Captain Wilkins that I am at the
Hotel
Augoustos
.”

           
“I will do as you ask.”

           
“There is something else. There is a German agent here in Salonika whom I have
been told will seek to assassinate Venizelos. I have not identified the agent
yet. Do you have any information on this man?”

           
“No, I had not heard this until now,” said Zannas, “but it is not unexpected.
Germany is well aware that the fate of Greece, and perhaps the Balkans as a
whole, depends on what Venizelos chooses to do next. Of that, I am uncertain
myself.”

           
“I trust you will keep the Prime Minister safe. I will do what I can to find
this German agent.”

           
“Thank you, Captain. I will send Captain Wilkins to you this evening. I fear it
will be a very long day. You had best leave by the back gate.”

           
Gresham still had no notion on how to locate the German agent and decided his
only hope was to speak to Athos again. The boy apparently had some feelings for
his country. Perhaps he could be convinced to provide a description or some
other method of identifying the German. Gresham should not have left so quickly
the night before, he now knew, but he had been upset about Miss Häberlin. Now
that he knew that Reta was not a problem, he could only go back to the docks to
appeal to the boy yet again.

           
This time, however, Gresham found a very different scene. The shop was open and
unlocked but the old blind man was not on the stool outside. The shop was
quiet, and Gresham entered slowly. No one was there. Some of the shelves had
been smashed and many boxes overturned – evidence of a fight. There was fresh
blood on the floor and splashed against the wall and the smell of smoke from
gunfire and a great cloud of spice dust. There was no sign of Athos. Someone
had come and taken the boy, perhaps killed him, perhaps for talking to Gresham.
He left the shop immediately and strode as calmly as he could across the dock,
then stopped to catch his breath. Behind him, a jet of flames and smoke
suddenly erupted from the spice shop. Shards of wooden crates and barrels flew
out, and the concussion from the blast knocked Gresham to the ground. The shop
was on fire, and smoke and ash and spice powders floated through the air.
Merchants nearby were already rushing to the fire, ordering buckets of water to
be quickly carried up from the docks, as Gresham shook his head and wiped
debris from his face.

Gresham realized he had only just escaped
unharmed and decided he had better get away before someone realized he had come
from the burning shop himself. Was the smoke he had smelled a fuse? Was the
blast meant to kill him, or just disguise the evidence of foul play? Was
Gresham being followed? He still had no leads at all. He pondered his next move
as he ran up the street towards the hotel. In a few blocks, however, Gresham
ran into Miss Sandes and the British doctors; Miss Häberlin was not with them.
“Captain Gresham,” Sandes called to him. “We’re on our way to see the landing.
Are you all right?”

Gresham realized he was covered with soot and
bits of wood and spices.

“I’m sorry, there is a fire at a shop by the
dock and I was trying to see if anyone was still inside. Fortunately, the shop
was empty at the time. I was just on my way to the hotel to clean up.”

“Here, here, young man. You’re not as bad off
as all that,” said Sandes as she stepped up to Gresham and brushed the debris
from his hair and jacket. “There, you are now perfectly respectable. Perhaps you
will join us for the landing? We are going to the square on Lagkada Street.”

“I would be honored, thank you. Is Miss
Häberlin joining us there?”

“I am very sorry to disappoint you, Captain,
but Miss Häberlin has gone out on some errand of her own this morning. Rest
assured you may see her at the hotel later today.”

They arrived at the square, which was a block
away from the pier. The square was already full of locals who had turned out to
see the British soldiers. An excited but quiet crowd of Greeks and Serbians
lined the broad street. Near the pier at the bottom of the street, a small
review stand had been constructed overnight and was crowded with dignitaries.

“Look there,” said Gresham, pointing to the
stands. “The short older man with the beard and spectacles, there in the
middle, is Prime Minister Venizelos – ”

           
“Former Prime Minister,” interrupted Griffith. “I read in the newspapers that
he has resigned again.”

           
“Yes, of course,” replied Gresham. “Anyway, on his right, that fellow is
Zannas; he’s chief of the Gendarmes. On the other side is our own General Sir
Ian Hamilton and, next to him is General Sir Bryan Mahon, who was my commanding
General at Suvla Bay.” Next to Mahon, Gresham saw, was his own friend and
colleague, Captain James Wilkins. He was extremely pleased to see Wilkins was
well and that he had arrived, at last, in Salonika.