"She's in back. Adriana gave her something to make her sleep." Zeno was
pulling out a chair from one of the empty tables. The room was shrouded
in darkness, and the stale odor of the kitchen permeated the air. "She
was not herself, Michael. What happened? She claimed someone was trying
to murder her. At the palace. Did you two--?"
"We tried throwing a party, but it started getting crowded." He looked
around. "I could use some of that _raki _of yours. I just had a close
encounter with a guy you wouldn't sit down next to on a bus. He refused
to leave politely so . . . I had to make him disappear. Bad scene."
"You killed him?"
"He was shooting, at Eva and me. Very unsociable." He glanced toward
the back of the darkened room. "Zeno, our party guest tonight was--
you're not going to believe this-- a Japanese hood. Tell me something.
Is the Yakuza trying to get a foothold in Crete? You know, maybe buying
up property? That's their usual style. It's more or less how they first
moved in on Hawaii."
"Michael, this country is so poor, there's nothing here for gangsters
to steal." He laughed. "Let me tell you a secret. If a stranger came
around here and tried to muscle me, or any of my friends, he would not
live to see the sun tomorrow. Even the Sicilian Cosa Nostra is afraid
of us. Crete is still a small village in many ways, in spite of the
crazy tourists. We tolerate strangers, even open our homes to them if
they are well behaved, but we know each other's secrets like a family.
So, to answer your question, the idea of a Japanese syndicate coming
here is impossible to imagine. You know that as well as I do."
"That's what I thought. But I saw a _kobun _from the biggest Yakuza
organization in Japan tonight. I know because I had a little tango with
their godfather a few years back. Anyway, what's one of his street men
doing here, shooting at Eva and me?" He paused as the implications of
the night began to sink in. "This scene could start to get rough."
"You did nothing more than anybody here would have done." He looked
pensive in the dim light. "Years ago, when the colonels and their junta
seized Greece, I once had to--" He hesitated. "Sometimes we do things we
don't like to talk about afterwards. But you always remember the eyes
of a man you must kill. You dream about them."
"Our party lighting was pretty minimal. It was too dark to make out his
eyes."
"Then you are luckier than you know." He glanced away. "This was not
somebody you knew from another job, Michael? Perhaps the mercenary
group you sometimes--"
"Never saw the guy before in my life, swear to God. Anyway, I think it
was Eva he really wanted. But whatever's going on, I have to get her
out of Crete now, before whoever it is finds her again."
"I agree." He was turning toward the living quarters in the rear. "You
should stay here tonight, and then tomorrow we can get you both passage
on the car ferry to Athens, off the island. I will take care of
everything. Tickets, all of it." He returned carrying two tumblers of
_raki_. After setting them on the table, he continued. "I am very wor-
ried for her, Michael. And for you. We all make enemies, but--" He took
a sip from his glass. "By the way, do you have a pistol?"
"Not with me." He reached for the glass, wishing it was tequila--
straight, with a twist of lime--and he was back on the Ulysses, trimming
the genoa. "That's a mistake I may not make again soon."
"Then I will arrange for one. Like I said, everything. I have many
friends. Do not worry." He drank again. "By the way, she asked me go to
the hotel and get something for you. She seemed to think it was
important. One of your modern American inventions. She had it locked in
the safe at the desk. And she gave me money to pay for her room." He
sighed. "Why would she waste money on a hotel when she could have
stayed here with us?"
"What is it?"
"I think it's a computer, though it's barely the size of a briefcase.
Part of the new age that mercifully has passed us by. I have it in
back, with the rest of her things." His voice disappeared into the
darkened kitchen. Moments later he reappeared carrying Eva's laptop.
With a worried look he settled it gingerly on the table. "Do you have
any idea why she had this with her?"
"I think she may have something stored in here." He settled it on the
table and flipped up the top. Then he felt along the side for the
switch, and a second later the screen glowed blue. After the operating
system was in place, he punched up the files.
A long line of names filled the screen, arranged alphabetically. But
nothing seemed right. It was a stream of unclassified NSA memos, and
then a lot of personal letters. He resisted the temptation to call them
up and delve into her private life. How many men . . . ?
Stick to business. Save the fun for later. Where's the file?
Then he noticed the very first alphanumeric.
"Ackerman."
Hold on, he thought, wasn't that the name of the NSA guy she said gave
her the disk? He highlighted the file on the screen and hit Retrieve.
An instant later it appeared.
Yep, this one had to be it. Clearly an NSA document, very carefully
stored.
(NSCID No. 37896) Page 1 of 28