Chapter 9

Yelka:

A message in Cyrillic? Гиацинт Садовнику. Нексус найден. A rough translation was; Hyacinth to Gardener. Nexus found.

I supposed I could work out the significance, but – why me? – why pick out me, or maybe Vee and me, when she couldn’t have known who we were.

Vee got the sat-phone up and running and I added the message to a report to The Lodge. We got an almost immediate response. Being a couple of hours ahead of Britain had its advantages in this instance. ‘Cooperate with your contact. This is your assignment until further notice.’

“Bed,” I told Vee. “I’m whacked, and we need to contact Yannis in the morning.”

I was half asleep when Vee slipped into bed with me. At that moment I wasn’t really aware that it wasn’t Lena, and I was completely asleep shortly after. In the morning, though...

“Hey, Vee ... wakey wakey.”

Groan. “What’s the time?”

“Oh six thirty.”

“Really? Why this early?”

“Running, Vee. Running. Use it or lose it.”

“Meaney.” But she smiled as she said it, followed as I slid out of bed, comfort break, dressed for running. An hour on the streets, and I made a phone call before diving into the shower.

“What next, Boss?”

I didn’t detect any actual sarcasm in Vee’s tone as she asked, so I responded in kind. “The Garden Bakery. I’m told it’s a tourist recommendation.”

We walked – it was beginning to warm up – to the bakery, and ordered Strapatsada, basically a very fancy scrambled egg dish with focaccia bread, including spices, tomatoes, feta cheese, peppers. It was delicious. Yannis Georgiou arrived as we took our last mouthfuls and settled back to enjoy the coffee.

“Might I join you, ladies?”

“Surely, Captain.” I stood and held out a hand. “Good morning.” As our hands met, he felt the card in mine press into his palm. He managed to transfer it to his pocket quite naturally.

“Kalimera, kyries,” he said as he sat. He ordered the same as us, with a smile for the waitress. Thus we sat together in the pleasant garden, sipping excellent coffee – Vee had cream in hers, but I follow Papa and drink it black – exchanging inconsequential chat as Yannis received and consumed his breakfast.

Vee placed something small and black in the centre of the table, took out her mobile, poked at it. “Clear,” was all she said.

Yannis raised an eyebrow. “Careful ladies, aren’t you?”

“We’re a team,” I shrugged. “And at your service, by command.”

“I have had a communication about you. It seems my old friend has a high opinion of you, Yelka.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Nice to know. But I’m pretty green, really.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I am assured you are a natural and your companion,” he nodded to Vee with a smile, “is a technologist, but has the necessary basic skills to survive. At least,” he added, “with you to guide. Did you enjoy your run this morning?”

“You’ve been watching us?” Vee blurted.

He shook his head, still smiling. “No need. I was quite sure that Yelka would maintain her – and your – fitness as well as possible in the circumstances. Early morning is best if you’re going to run. I think you might find the heat of the day ... trying.”

“We would,” I acknowledged and grinned. “Mad dogs and Englishmen run in the heat of the day. We have more sense.”

He laughed. “Oh, yes. Trust a woman to have more sense.” He sobered quickly. “But to the point of our meeting, I am arranging to raid the club, but it won’t be until tomorrow. Enjoy our city today and tomorrow. Have you visited the White Tower yet?”

“It’s on our to do list,” I said, “along with the Archæological Museum. Lots of history here.”

He nodded. “There is. Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman, mainly.”

We parted company, and went out to explore the city some more, including a reconnaissance of the club, trying to see what possible means of egress existed – other than the entry, of course. We ate a salad in the Garden Bakery garden, and later visited the White Tower. The White Tower is interesting, but irrelevant to the tale. Google it if you’re interested.

This isn’t a travelogue, so I’ll go straight to the raid. Our part, Vee’s and mine, was to enter the club as usual. I suppose we were both a little tense, but I don’t think anyone noticed. A muffled explosion, I found out later, was the team entering the back access, and was followed by an amplified announcement. “Police! Please remain calm and have some ID ready!”

Several black-clad figures trotted through and disappeared into the back of the club. The DJ, having been identified, resumed playing, though at a lower volume. Girls, club staff, circulated to provide drinks as required, including the one who’d slipped me the message.

About an hour later, after several of the black-clad team carried assorted items out of the club and others escorted handcuffed men, Vee and I were summoned into the back and upstairs to a crowded dormitory. About twenty scantily-clad girls were huddled together at the far end, two taser-equipped men in black by the door.

“Miss Smallbridge?”

“That’s me.”

“Please speak to the girls and reassure them they aren’t in trouble. Captain Georgiou’s orders are that they are to be taken to place of safety, then offered either a return whence they came or asylum. As far as we can tell, they have limited English and Greek.”

“Well, all I can offer is Russian. Let’s see.” I walked over to the group and perched on a bed in front of them.

“Hello! My name is Yelena Smallbridge. I’ve been where you are, and I want to tell you that you are safe, now. Any who wish to go back to where you come from will be helped to do that. Anyone else will be given asylum here, or in another Western country. Do you understand?”

There was a babble of voices. I could make out words in languages other than Russian, which I assumed were Russian speakers communicating to others from other countries. After a few minutes, one girl, taller and a little older than the others, stepped forward.

“We ... safe now?”

“Yes.” I went on in Russian, “You will be treated as asylum seekers, victims of crime, not as objects or toys. I am from England, just helping out, so it’ll be the Greek police who have to sort out what’s happening. We’re working together to chase down a gang who are abusing children and smuggling them into western countries.”

There was a babble of chatter and not a few tears as that was communicated, and hugs all round, before I turned to the two by the door, realising that one of them was, in fact, a woman, though her build and the uniform obscured the fact.

“Can Captain Georgiou be contacted? I expect these young ladies will need to be taken elsewhere to be interviewed, and he’ll probably like me to be involved.”

We were, indeed, taken elsewhere. I think the place must have been a barracks at some time, but there were no soldiers about. We settled the girls there before fetching our luggage from the hotel so that we could live with the rescued girls while they were interviewed. Vee and I accompanied one of the girls each as they were interviewed. I translated for the Russian speakers, but other interpreters were found for the others. I was a little taken aback to find out that Vee had some classics training and knew Latin and classical Greek, but her modern languages were not up to working as an interpreter. Our presence reassured the girls, of that I was sure. The interviews, well, I’d experienced much the same as the girls, but it was disturbing, none the less. For Vee, it was difficult, to say the least.

It took a week to ‘process’ all twenty girls. The one who’d passed the message, well, I didn’t see her again, not at the time. I understand she was older than she looked and was working under cover in various places trying to obtain intelligence about the trafficking gangs.

Vee and I were released at the end of that week to go back to being tourists. That was a further week, by the end of which I was very ready to go home. Vee had soon buried herself in the ‘net when we weren’t playing at being tourists. At length, we received further instructions from The Lodge.

“Captain Georgiou is obtaining documents for two of the Russian speaking girls. Please escort them back to England and take them to Mason’s Farm. Reassure them that they will be given appropriate training, as you were, Yelka. The two of you may take a week’s leave in Cumbria once you’ve left them there. Collect a rental car at Birmingham International to transport them and use it whilst there and to return to The Lodge. Bill the rental to the company.”

That was straightforward enough, and very satisfactory from my point of view. We met Yannis at the Garden Bakery once more to make arrangements. To my surprise, we were not to fly from Thessaloniki, but from Athens.

“I would hate for you to leave Greece having only seen my city, much as I love it,” he said with a smile. “And I will find you a driver who knows the country and speaks good English.”

It’s over five hundred kilometres from Thessaloniki to Athens, very roughly over three hundred miles. Yannis suggested we take three days to do it. “We will pay for your hotels and subsistence on the way,” he added.

As it happens, Vee – remember I just said she had some classical education – piped up with, “I wish to see Μνημείο του Λεωνίδα και των 300 Σπαρτιατών.”*

*the Memorial to Leonidas and the three hundred Spartans.

Yannis was delighted. “You didn’t say you spoke Greek!”

“I don’t, really,” she said, modestly. “Classics at school. But I didn’t want to...” she blushed. “Yelka, I didn’t want to show off, and I didn’t want to exclude you.”

I shook my head. “You really need to work on your languages, Vee. I’m glad I didn’t have to try to follow a conversation in Greek, but you should be able to speak in modern Greek with some practice and a tutor, and that’s a skill which may be useful in the future. It wouldn’t be showing off, either, any more than me tutoring you in Russian.”

She sighed, clearly relieved. “Thanks. I didn’t think about it like that. I need to think about developing the talents I have, don’t I?”

“Well,” Yannis interjected, “you would be very welcome if you returned to study more here. Greek language and culture are very beautiful, I think, and so are you.”

Vee went very pink at that. “Really? You think so?”

“I do. Of course, I am far too old for you. But I would be very happy to help you if you were to return.”

Vee didn’t answer that, but she did look rather thoughtful.

The journey south was quite pleasant, five of us in a large, air-conditioned car. We broke the journey near Mount Olympus, though we didn’t have time to go and set foot there. Rather we found a pleasant pension which had room for us and would feed us. Vee and I were up early, actually pre-dawn, running, and were showered and dressed by the time our charges, Mila and Kira, were up and about for breakfast.

A couple of hours after setting off, our driver – Ophelia, would you believe? – pulled over next to an impressive monument, bearing a statue of a Greek, or, rather, Spartan, warrior. Leonidas led a force of three hundred Spartan warriors to oppose a Persian invasion at Thermopylae. The Athenians were supposed to march in support, but never set out. The Spartan force resisted Xerxes for several days until they were betrayed.

The memorial inscription reads:

‘Go tell the Spartans, passerby, that here the three hundred lie’

(Ὦ ξεῖν’, ἀγγέλλειν Λακεδαιμονίοις ὅτι τῇδε κείμεθα, τοῖς κείνων ῥήμασι πειθόμενοι.)

On the statue itself are the words spoken by Leonidas to Xerxes. “Μολὼν λαβέ”. ‘Come and take them’.

Vee and I stood for several minutes in the sun, thinking about fighting in armour, with swords and spears, in that heat. At length, I couldn’t resist, and snapped a salute. Vee, though, knelt in front of the dais, head down. I’m not sure what Mila and Kira made of it all

Ophelia stood by the car, watching, and I went to stand with her.

“You know the story?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “I think Vee feels it more strongly, for some reason. It was she who wanted to stop here.”

Vee stood, and joined us. “‘Come and take them,’ Not a bad motto, in the circumstances.” Then she added, “I’ve wanted to visit here ever since reading the story in school.”

From there, we drove a few miles to another pension for the night. We intended to visit Delphi the following day on our way to Athens.