The Honda inched down the hill from old Pafos toward the harbor area. The street was narrow. The traffic was picking up. People were heading to the evening openings of stores and shops after being closed for the mid-day meal. Everything looked so normal. Zach said nothing. A big lead ball of fear expanded in my belly.
The beautiful Mediterranean Sea sparkled in the distance. Diamonds played across her surface. I was paralyzed not by her beauty but by fear. Stark, spine numbing fear. Who were these people who so easily spoke of murder? I did not want to know them.
“You can’t get out now,” said Zach. He spoke in a soft voice but somehow it sounded sinister, threatening. Fatal.
“Who are you?” I yanked off my sunglasses. “Look at me and tell me who you are.”
He kept on driving, eyes fixed on the road.
“Tell me who you are.” I screamed, hurling all my anger, frustration, and fear into the scream. “Tell me the truth.”
We were back out on the main drag through Pafos. He pulled over to the sidewalk, cut the engine and turned to face me. He took off his sunglasses and met my frantic, teary, terrified gaze. He didn’t try to touch me and spoke without anger, without any kind of emotion. “I can’t share what I know with you. If you know and they get to you, it might put you in a more danger. I might endanger a lot more people than just you, me and your aunt. I could ask you to trust me, but I know you can’t. All I can say is that I’ll help you.”
I searched his eyes, those deep brown eyes that hid a thousand secrets. “I am terrified. Don’t you understand? I am terrified.”
He nodded. “I know, but this is more than you and me.”
“I’m afraid they’re going to kill my aunt. They want me to kill you. Don’t you understand?”
Zach blew out a breath and shoved his baseball hat back on his head. “That’s what they want. They want you to be terrified, to make irrational decisions, to run scared. It might be an idle threat. It’s designed to frighten you, and it did. These are terrorists, remember. They create terror to paralyze us all, and they’re doing a good job of it.”
I kept searching his eyes, kept looking for answers.
“They know we’re together,” I said. “They know what we are doing. I keep watching my back, like any moment someone will jump out with a gun and do something awful. Do you understand what I have been through in the last two days? You might be used to murder and cloak and dagger stuff, but I’m not. Please believe me. My aunt and I are not criminals. We are not thieves.”
My voice hit high, piercing decibels. I bit my lip to try to get a grip. I was loosing it, and he was right. I wasn’t holding up well.
He looked away and seemed to study the street. Then he did that funny little thing again. He turned back toward me, reached out and cupped my neck with his warm hand and caressed my cheek with his thumb.
“Claudie, I want to believe you. I’ll protect you as best I can. Try not to let them get to your mind. Now I’ve got to make a call.”
He pulled away from the curb. “There’s a public phone around the block. I’m going to park on the side street and make the call. After that you can call Yannis on that phone and have him call Lena and tell her you are okay, that we’re trying to find your aunt. He’s the only one you will stay in contact with and the call cannot be more than sixty seconds. After that it could be traced to where you are by the police or by our terrorist friends. You understand?”
“Sixty seconds?”
“That’s all you have. That’s all if you want to stay alive, and you want to keep me alive.”
I slumped back against the seat. I felt forsaken by all the ancient gods of the island.
He pulled around the block, found the sparse shade of a young mimosa tree and parked.
“Stay here while I call.”
I put my sunglasses back on and didn’t reply. What was there to say? I reflected on the irrational world I was in and the rational world I had left. Maybe it wasn’t as rational as I thought it was. Maybe it was crazy, and I was an ostrich with my head in the sand, like millions of other people. Maybe the world had never been rational. I had the unnerving feeling that the glue that held me together was unstuck and small pieces of my sanity were flaking off and blowing away.
Zach walked back to the car from the telephone booth. He wore the boat shoes, floral shirt, baseball cap, looking for all the world like an American tourist, not a guy on a mission to clear out a terrorist cell on the most beautiful island in the Mediterranean.
“Your turn,” he said, as he slid behind the wheel. “Remember, sixty seconds. You don’t want to give away our position.”
“What happens after sixty seconds?”
“Electronic positioning equipment will trace the call to the exact location from which it is placed. Please do not try anything funny, like calling anyone else. I need to trust you.” His eyes held mine. “And you need to trust me.”
I nodded, got out of the car and hurried over to the phone. I would have to trust him. I would make one call to Yannis. I called his office, but the phone rang and rang and rang. He wasn’t going to pick up. I tried his home. No answer.
I hung up and walked back, no spring in my step. I got into the car and closed the door and sat there staring straight ahead. “He wasn’t there. What do we do now?”
Zach passed me a bottle of water. “Let’s go to the beach near the Forty Column Castle. We could rest on the beach for a while, walk around, look at the dig, ask a few questions.”
I remembered our beach time this morning and looked at him.
One side of his mouth twitched up. “This time we really will rest and catch some rays.”
I smiled. “Sure, why not?”
The beach Zach had in mind was on the west side of Pafos north of the Agora, castle and mosaics sites. We bounced along an unpaved road we accessed from a residential side street and pulled into a sandy parking lot that sat far back from the water’s edge. The site wasn’t great for swimming because of the rocks in the water along the beach. The shore was peppered with only a few European bathers, taking the sun. Cypriots didn’t swim this time of year, the water was too cold and most of them would be working or keeping house this time of day.
I hopped out and stood by the open door, checking out the scene. There were two other cars in the parking lot. I had put on my back up pair of bikinis when I dressed at the beach this morning after that incredible swim. I wasn’t sure what Zach would do, since he’d have to wear a suit at this beach.
He opened both car doors to serve as a dressing room, pulled out a pair of Speedos, and started to undress. I watched from across the front seat. It was a welcome diversion from the nightmare. He glanced at me and saw that I was watching. He flipped off his hat, unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, pausing a mini-beat between buttons, shrugged it off and threw it on the seat. His muscles flexed and bunched, his chest and back a rich tan. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
Fear heightened sensibilities still gripped my insides. But the promise in his eyes soothed my frazzled nerves and diverted my attention away from the nightmare.
He slipped off his shorts. His long, bare legs were heavily muscled. He turned full frontal toward me, knowing I was watching him. And grinned.
I could feel the steam rise in me from far down in my toes. Bracing his arms on the car door frame, he leaned his head against it, looking into my eyes. He was something else. How I would ever survive the extremes of emotion I was living through today, added to the sexual juices that this man stirred up in me, I didn’t know.
My tongue slid over my lower lip. His eyes fixed on my face and what I was doing with my lips and tongue. I pulled my pants down, dropped them to the ground. Taking my time, I unbuttoned the shirt and let it drop on the ground. He watched, no longer grinning, with a light in his eyes that said unguarded, all out sex. I was ready.