This said, they fell to 't without more dispute,

Jensen informs me that most of you speak Greek fluently, that you will be dressed as Greek peasants and will carry forged papers. That is well. You will bewhat is the word?self-contained, will operate on your own." He paused, then went on very earnestly. "Please do not try to enlist the help of the people of Navarone. At all costs you must avoid that. The Germans are ruthless. I know. If a man helps you and is found out, they will destroy not only that man but his entire villagemen, women and children. It has happened before. It will happen again." "It happened in Crete," Mallory agreed quietly. "I've seen it for myself." "Exactly." Vlachos nodded. "And the people of Navarone have neither the skifi nor the experience for suecessful guerrilla operations. They have not had the chanceGerman surveillance has been especially severe in our island." "I promise you, sir" Mallory began. Vlachos held up his hand. "Just a moment. If your need is desperate, really desperate, there are two men to whom you may turn. Under the first plane tree in the village square of Margarithaat the mouth of the valley about three miles south of the fortressyou will find a man called Louki. He has been the steward of our family for many years. Louki has been of help to the British beforeCaptain Jensen will confirm thatand you can trust him with your life. He has a friend, Panayis: he, too, has been useful in the past." "Thank you, sir. I'll remember. Louki and Panayis and Margarithathe first plane tree in the square." "And you will refuse all other aid, Captain?" Vlachos asked anxiously. "Louki and Panayisonly these two," he pleaded. "You have my word, sir. Besides, the fewer the safer for us as well as your people." Mallory was surprised at the old man's intensity. "I hope so, I hope so." Viachos sighed heavily. Mallory stood up, stretched out his hand to take his leave. "You're worrying about nothing, sir. They'll never see us," he promised confidently. "Nobody will see usand we'll see nobody. We're after only one thingthe guns." "Ay, the gunsthose terrible guns." Vlachos shook his head. "But just suppose" "Please. It will be all right," Mallory insisted quietly. "We will bring harm to noneand least of all to your islanders." "God go with you to-night," the old man whispered. "God go top picks for digital cameras with you to-night. I only wish that I could go too." CHAPTER 2 Sunday Night 19000200 "Coffee, sir?" Mallory stirred and groaned and fought his way up from the depths of exhausted sleep. Painfully he eased himself back on the metal-framed bucket-seat, wondering peevishly when the Air Force was going to get round to upholstering these fiendish contraptions. Then he was fully awake, tired, heavy eyes automatically focusing on the luminous dial of his wrist-watch. Seven o'clock. Just seven o'clockhe'd been asleep barely a couple of hours. Why hadn't they let him sleep on? "Coffee, sir?" The young air-gunner was still standing patiently by his side, the inverted lid of an ammunition box serving as a tray for the cups he was carrying. "Sorry, boy, sorry." Mallory struggled upright in his seat, reached up for a cup of the steaming liquid, sniffed it appreciatively. "Thank you. You know, this smells just like real coffee." "It is, sir." The young gunner smiled proudly. 'We have a percolator in the galley." "He has a percolator in the galley." Mallory shook his head in disbelief. "Ye gods, the rigours of war in the Royal Air Force!" He leaned back, sipped the coffee luxuriously and sighed in contentment. Next moment he was on his feet, the hot coffee splashing unheeded on his bare knees as he stared out the window beside him. He looked at the gunner, gestured in disbelief at the mountainous landscape unrolling darkly beneath them. "What the hell goes on here? We're not due till two hours after darkand it's barely gone sunset! Has the pilot?" "That's Cyprus, sir." The gunner grinned. "You can just see Mount Olympus on the horizon. Nearly always, going to Casteirosso, we fly a big dog-leg over Cyprus. It's to escape observation, sir; and it takes us well clear of Rhodes." "To escape observation, he says!" The heavy trans-atlantic drawl came from the bucket-seat diagonally across the passage: the speaker was lying collapsed there was no other word for itin his seat, the bony knees topping the level of the chin by several inches. "My Gawd! To escape observation!" he repeated in awed wonder. "Dog-legs over Cyprus. Twenty miles out from Alex by launch so that nobody ashore can see us taldn' off by