The Mediterranean Caper Read online

  “Sorry, I don’t have one,” Pitt had forgotten to ask Colonel Lewis for a pass to get on and off Brady Field.

  A swaggering, tough look crossed the AP’s face. “Then you’ll have to go back to the barracks and get It.” He swatted at a moth that flapped by his face, toward a floodlight.

  “That would be a waste of time. I don’t even own a pass,” said Pitt, smiling helplessly.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, buddy. Nobody gets in or out of the gate without a pass.”

  “I did.”

  The AP’s eyes became suspicious. “How did you manage that?”

  “I flew In.”

  A surprised look bit the AP. His eyes beamed in the brightness of the floods. Another passing moth lit on his white cap, but he did not notice it. Then it burst from him. “You’re the pilot of that Catalina flying boat!”

  “Guilty as charged,” said Pitt.

  “Say, I want to shake your hand.” The AP’s lips opened in a big tooth displaying smile. “That was the greatest piece of flying I’ve ever seen.” He thrust out a massive hand.

  Pitt took the outstretched hand and winced. He had a strong grip of his own, but it seemed puny compared to the AP’s. “Thank you, but I’d have felt a lot better about it if my opponent had crashed.”

  “Oh hell, he couldn’t have gone far. That old junk pile was smoking up a storm when it crossed over the hills.”

  “Maybe It crashed on the other side?"

  “No chance. The colonel had the whole Air Police squadron chasing all over the island in jeeps, looking for it. He searched until dark, but didn’t spot a thing.” He appeared disgusted. “What really pissed me off was getting back to the base too late for the chow line.”

  Pitt grinned. “It must have gone down in the sea, or else made the mainland before falling.”

  The AP shrugged his shoulders. “Could be. But one thing’s for sure; it ain’t on Thasos. You have my personal guarantee on that.”

  Pitt laughed. “That’s good enough for me.” He swung the towel over his shoulder and pulled at his swim trunks. “Well it’s been nice talking to you . . .“

  “Airman Second Class Moody, sir.”

  “I’m Major Pitt.”

  The AP’s face went blank. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know you were an officer. I thought you were one of those civilians with NUMA. I’ll let you out this time, Major, but I’d appreciate it if you got a base pass.”

  "I'll see to it first thing after breakfast.”

  “My replacement comes on at 0800. If you’re not back by then, I’ll leave word so he’ll let you in without any trouble.”

  “Thank you, Moody. Perhaps I’ll see you later.” Pitt waved and then turned and walked down the road towards the beach.

  Pitt kept to the right side of the narrow paved road and in about a mile came to a small cove that was flanked by large craggy rocks. The moonlight showed him a path, and he took it until his feet crunched softly in the sandy beach. He dropped the towel and walked to the tide line. A wave broke, and the white of its crest slid smoothly across the packed sand and licked his feet The dying wave hesitated for a moment and then fell back, forming the trough for the next crest There was barely a breath of wind, and the glistening sea was relatively calm. The moon cast its glow on the dark water and left a shaft of silver that traveled over the surface to the horizon where the sea and sky melted together into absolute blackness. Pitt soaked up the warm stillness and moved into the water, swimming along the silver shaft

  An inner feeling always overcame Pitt when he was alone and near the sea. It was as though his soul seeped out of his body, and he became a thing without substance, without form. His mind was purified and cleansed: all mental labor ceased and all thoughts vanished. He was only vaguely aware of hot and cold, smells, touch, and all the other senses, except hearing. He listened to the nothingness of silence; the greatest, but most unknown, treasure of man. Forgotten for the moment were all his failures, all his victories and all his loves, even life itself was buried and lost in the stillness.

  He lay dead and floated in the water for nearly an hour. Finally, a small swell slapped at his face and he unwittingly inhaled a few drops of salt water. He snorted, dispelling the discomfort and again became aware of his bodily sensations. Without watching his progress, he effortlessly backstroked toward the shore. When his hands arched and touched the dense sand, he stopped swimming and drifted onto the beach like a piece of flotsam. Then he dragged himself forward until he was only half-out of the water, letting it swirl around his legs and buttocks. The warm Aegean surf rose out of the dim light and flooded up the beach, caressing his skin, and he dozed off.

  The stars were beginning to blink out one by one with the pale light of the approaching dawn when an inner alarm sounded in Pitt’s brain, and he suddenly became alert to a presence. Instantly he was awake, but he made no movement, other than peering through half-open eyes. He barely could make out a shadowy form standing over him. Focusing and straining his eyes in the faint light, he tried to distinguish a detailed shape.

  Slowly, an outline materialized. It was a woman.

  “Good morning,” he said and sat up.

  “Oh my God,” the woman gasped. She threw a hand to her mouth as if to scream.

  It was still too dark to see the wild look in her eyes, but Pitt knew it was there. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  The hand slowly dropped. She just stood there looking down at him. Finally she found her voice. “I... I thought you were dead.” She stammered the words softly.

  “I can hardly blame you. I suppose if I stumbled on someone sleeping in the tide at this time of morning I would think the same thing.”

  “You gave me quite a frightful shock, you know, sitting up and talking like that.”

  “Again, my sincere apologies.” It suddenly occurred to Pitt that the woman was speaking English. Her accent was decidedly British, but it had a trace of German. He rose to his feet. “Please allow me to introduce myself; my name is Dirk Pitt.”

  “I’m Teri,” she said, “and I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you alive and healthy. Mister Pitt”

  She didn’t offer her last name, and Pitt didn’t press for it.

  “Believe me, Teri, the pleasure is all mine.” He pointed to the sand. “Won’t you join me and help raise the sun?”

  She laughed. “Thank you, I’d like that But then again, I can hardly see you. For all I know you might be a monster or something.” There was a note of whimsy in her tone. “Can I trust you?”

  “To be perfectly honest, no. I think it only fair to Warn you that I’ve assaulted over two hundred innocent virgins right here on this very spot.” Pitt’s humor was overly forward, but he knew it was a good system for testing a female’s personality.

  “Oh blimey, I would dearly loved to have been number two hundred and one, but I’m not an innocent virgin.” There was enough light now for Pitt to see the White of her teeth arched in a smile. “I certainly hope you won’t hold that against me.”

  “No, I’m very broadminded about that sort of thing. But I must ask you to keep secret the fact that two hundred and one wasn’t pure as the driven snow. If it ever leaked out, my reputation as a monster would be ruined.”

  They both laughed and sat down together on Pitt’s towel and talked while the hot sun reluctantly began its climb over the Aegean Sea. As the blazing orange ball threw its first golden rays over the shimmering horizon, Pitt gazed at the woman in the new light and studied her closely.

  She was about thirty and wore a red bikini swim suit. The bikini was not the exaggerated brief kind, even though the lower half began a good two inches below the navel. The material had a satin sheen to it and clung tautly to her body like an outer layer of skin. Her figure was a beguiling mixture of grace and firmness: the stomach looked smooth and flat and the breasts were perfect, not too small but not too large and out of scale.

  Her legs were lo
ng, creamy colored and slightly on the thin side. Pitt decided to overlook this faint imperfection and swung his eyes to her face. The profile was exquisite. Her features possessed the beauty and mystery of a Grecian statue and would have rated near perfection except for a round pockmark beside her right temple. Ordinarily the scar would have been covered by her shoulder length black hair but she had thrown her head back as she watched the sunrise and the ebony strands angled back behind her shoulders, touching the sand and revealing the thin blemish.

  Suddenly she turned and caught Pitt’s examining stare.

  “You’re supposed to be watching the sunrise,” she said with a bemused smile.

  “I’ve seen sunrises before, but this is the first time I've ever come face to face with a lovely, genuine Grecian Aphrodite.” Pitt could see her dark brown eyes flashing with enjoyment at his compliment.

  “Thank you for the flattery, but Aphrodite was the Greek goddess of love and beauty, and I’m only half Greek.”

  “What’s the other half?”

  “My father was German.”

  “in that case I must thank the gods that you look after your mother’s side.”

  She gave a pouting glance. “You’d better not let my uncle hear you say that.”

  “A typical kraut?

  “Yes, indeed. In fact he’s why I happen to be on Thasos.”

  “Then he can’t be all bad,” Pitt said, admiring her hazel eyes. “DO you live with him?”

  “No, actually l was born here but I was raised in England. I suffered through school there and when I was eighteen I fell in love with a dashing motorcar salesman and married him.”

  “I didn’t know car salesmen could be dashing.”

  She ignored his sarcastic remark and continued. “He loved to race cars on his time off, and he was good at it too. He won trials and hill climbs and sporting car events,” She shrugged and began drawing circles in the sand with her finger. Her voice became strange and husky. “Then one weekend he was racing a supercharged MG. It was raining, and he skidded off the course and hit a tree. He was dead before I could reach his side.”

  Pitt sat silent for a minute, staring at her sad face. “How long ago?” he asked simply.

  “It’s been eight and a half years now,” she replied in a whisper.

  Pitt felt dazed. Then anger set in. What a waste, he thought. What a rotten waste for a beautiful woman like her to grieve over a dead man for nearly nine years. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. He could see tears welling in her eyes as she lost herself in the remembrance, and the sight sickened him. He reached, over and gave her a hard backhand slap across the face.

  Her eyes jerked wide, and her whole body tensed from the sharp blow. It was as if she was struck by a bullet. “Why did you strike me?” she gasped.

  “Because you needed it, needed it badly,” he Snapped. “That torch you carry around is as worn out as an overcoat. I’m surprised someone hasn’t taken you over a knee and spanked it off. So your husband was dashing. So what? He’s dead and buried, and mourning over him for all these years won’t resurrect him from the grave. Lock away his memory somewhere and f orget him. You’re a beautiful woman—you don’t belong chained to a coffin full of bones. You belong to every man who turns and admires you as you pass by and who longs to possess you.” Pitt could see his words were penetrating her weak defenses. “Now you think about it. It’s your life. Don’t throw it away and play ‘Camille’ until you’re withered and gray.”

  Her face was distraught in the morning sun, and her breath came in sobs. Pitt let her cry for a long time. When she finally raised her head and turned it towards him, he could see that her cheeks were streaked with tears, mixed with tiny grains of sand, clinging to the wetness. She looked up at him, and he caught the gleam in her eyes. They were soft and scared-looking, like a little girl’s.’ He lifted her in his arms and kissed her. Her lips were warm and moist.

  “When was the last time you had a man?” he whispered .

  “Not since.. .“ Her voice trailed away.

  Pitt took her as the long shadows of the rocks crept upward over the beach, shielding their bodies from the sun. A flight of sandpipers circled overhead and descended upon the damp sand at the water’s edge. They scurried back and forth, playing tag with the surf. Every so often one of the birds would cast a beady eye at the two lovers in the shade, staring for a fleeting instant before returning to the chore of stabbing its long curved beak in the sand for food.

  The shadows shortened as the sun rose higher in the sky. A fishing boat chugged by a hundred yards from the end of the rocks.

  The fishermen, dropping their nets in the water, were too busy to notice anything unusual on the shore. At last Pitt drew back and gazed down at Teri’s serene and smiling face.

  “I don’t know whether to ask for your thanks or your forgiveness,” he said softly.

  “Please accept them both along with my blessing,” she murmured.

  He kissed her lightly on the eyes. “See what you’ve been missing all these years,” he said grinning.

  “I agree. You’ve certainly shown me a wonderful antidote for my depression.”

  “I always prescribe seduction. It’s guaranteed to cure any and all rare maladies and common ailments.”

  “And what is your fee, doctor?” she said, accompanied with a feminine giggle.

  “Consider it paid in full.”

  “You’re not going to get off that easily. I must insist you come to my uncle’s house for dinner tonight.”

  “I shall consider it an honor,” he said. “What time and how do I get there?”

  “I’ll have my uncle’s driver pick you up at the entrance to Brady Field at 6 o’clock.”

  Pitt’s eyebrows raised. “What makes you think I’m stationed at Brady Field?”

  “You’re obviously an American and that’s where all the Americans on the island are.” Teri grasped his hand and pressed it to her face. “Tell me about your-self. What type of job do you perform in your Air Force? Do you fly? Are you an officer?”

  Pitt did his best to look serious. “I’m the base garbage collector.”

  Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Are you really? You’re much too intelligent to be a garbage collector.”

  She looked into his strong tan face and his intense green eyes. “Oh well, I won’t hold your occupation against you. Have you been promoted to sergeant yet?’

  “No. I’ve never been a sergeant”

  Suddenly a bright flash in the rocks about two hundred feet away caught Pitt’s attention. A shiny object reflected the sun’s rays for a brief instant He watched the area where the glint had shown but could detect no further flash or movement.

  Teri felt him tense. “Is something the matter?” she asked.

  “No, nothing,” Pitt lied. “I thought I saw something floating in the water, but it’s disappeared now. He looked at her upraised face, and his eyes turned devilish. “Well I’d better be getting back to the base, I’ve got a lot of garbage to collect”

  “I should return also. My uncle will probably wonder what happened to me.”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she laughed. She stood up and brushed the sand from her body and adjusted the bikini.

  Pitt smiled, getting to his feet. “Why is it women always seem so shy and demure before they’ve been laid yet so sparkling and carefree after?”

  She shrugged lightheartedly. “I guess it’s because sex releases all our frustrations and makes us feel earthy.” Her brown eyes flashed with intensity. “You see, we women have animal instincts too.”

  Pitt playfully slapped her on the buttocks. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

  “You’ve got a long walk. My uncle’s villa is in the mountains behind Liminas.”

  “Where are the mountains and where is Liminas?”

  “Liminas is a small village about six miles up the road,” she said pointing north. “But I don’t
understand what you mean by asking about the mountains? Her pointing hand swung toward the inland slopes a mile behind the road. “What do you call those?”

  “In California, where I come from, we call anything under three thousand feet of elevation hills.”

  “You Yanks are always bragging.”

  “It’s a great American pastime.”

  They leisurely walked up the path from the cove.

  On the shoulder, off to one side of the blacktop, sat a sporty little open-top Mini-Cooper. The British racing green paint on the tiny car was barely visible beneath an outer coating of Thasas dust

  “How do you like my smashing Grand Prix racing car?” Teri asked proudly. Pitt laughed; not so much at her exaggerated statement but rather the British use of the word smashing in reference to a car. “By jove, that’s a bit of all right,” he said, mimicking her native terminology. “Is it yours?”

  “Yes, I purchased it new in London just last month and drove it all the way from Le Havre.”

  “How long will you be staying with your uncle?

  “I took a three month holiday so I’ll be here at least another six weeks. Then I’m going to return home by boat. The drive across the continent was fun but far too tiring."

  Pitt opened the door for her, and she slid behind the steering wheel. She groped under the front seat for a moment and pulled out a set of keys. She inserted one in the ignition and started the engine. The exhaust coughed once and then blasted forth with a nasty little growl.

  He leaned on the dusty door and lightly kissed her.

  “I hope your uncle won’t be waiting for me with a shotgun.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll probably talk your arm off. He likes Air Force men. He was a flyer in the First World War.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Pitt said sarcastically. “I bet he claims to have flown with Richthofen.”

  “Oh no, he was never in France. He fought right here in Greece.”

  Pitt’s sarcasm vanished and a cold, eerie feeling came over him. He gripped the doorframe until his knuckles turned white. “Has your uncle ever mentioned . . . Kurt Heibert?