Alistair Maclean - Guns Of Navarone - bzelbublive.info

"Another famous climber?" Louki asked eagerly. "Another tiger of the hills, yes?""He climbed the south cliff as it has never been climbed before," Mallory answered truthfully. He glanced at hiswatch, then looked directly at Louki. "There are others up in the hifis. We need help, Louki. We need it badly and weneed it at once. You know the danger if you are caught helping us?""Danger?" Louki waved a contemptuous hand. "Danger to Louki and Panayis, the foxes of Navarone? Impossible!We are the ghosts of the night." He hitched his pack higher up on his shoulders. "Come. Let us take this food to yourfriends.""Just a minute." Mallory's restraining hand was on his arm. "There are two other things. We need heat--a stove andfuel, and we need--""Heat! A stove!" Louki was incredulous. "Your friends in the hifis--what are they? A band of old women?""And we also need bandages and medicine," Mallory went on patiently. "One of our friends has been terriblyinjured. We are not sure, but we do not think that he will live.""Panayis!" Louki barked. "Back to the village." Louki was speaking in Greek now. Rapidly he issued his orders, hadMallory describe where the rock-shelter was, made sure that Panayis understood, then stood a moment in indecision,puffing at an end of his moustache. At length he looked up at Mallory."Could you find this cave again by yourself?""Lord only knows," Mallory said franidy. "I honestly don't think so.""Then I must come with you. I had hoped--you see, it will be a heavy load for Panayis--I have told him to bringbedding as well--and I don't think--""I'll go along with him," Miller volunteered. He thought of his back-breaking labours on the caique, the climb up thecliff, their forced march through the mountains. "The exercise will do me good."Louki translated his offer to Panayis--taciturn, apparently, only because of his complete lack of English--and wasmet by what appeared to be a torrent of protest. Miller looked at him in astonishment."What's the matter with old sunshine here?" he asked Mallory. "Doesn't seem any too happy to me.""Says he can manage O.K. and wants to go by himself," Mallory interpreted. "Thinks you'll slow him up on thehills." He shook his bead in mock wonder. "As if any man could slow Dusty Miller up!""Exactly!" Louki was bristling with anger. Again he turned to Panayis, fingers stabbing the empty air to emphasisehis words. Miller turned, looked apprehensively at Mallory."What's he tellin' him now, boss?""Only the truth," Mallory said solemnly. "Saying he ought to be honoured at being given the opportunity ofmarching with Monsieur Miller, the world-famous American climber." Mallory grinned. "Panayis will be on his mettleto-night--determined to prove that a Navaronian can climb as well and as fast as any man.""Oh, my Gawd!" Miller moaned."And on the way back, don't forget to give Panayis a hand up the steeper bits."Miller's reply was luckily lost in a sudden flurry of snow-laden wind.That wind was rising steadily now, a bitter wind that whipped the heavy snow into their bent faces and stung thetears from their blinking eyes. A heavy, wet snow that melted as it touched, and trickled down through every gap andchink in their clothing until they were wet and chilled and thoroughly miserable. A clammy, sticky snow that built uplayer after energy-sapping layer under their leaden-footed boots, until they stumbled along inches above the - ground,leg muscles aching from the sheer accumulated weight of snow. There was no visibility worthy of the name, not evenof a matter of feet, they were blanketed, swallowed up by an impenetrable cocoon of swirling grey and white,unchanging, featureless: Louki strode on diagonally upwards across the slope with the untroubled certainty of a manwalking up his own garden path.Louki seemed as agile as a mountain goat, and as tireless. Nor was his tongue less nimble, less unwearied than hislegs. He talked incessantly, a man overjoyed to be in action again, no matter what action so long, as it was against theenemy. He told Mallory of the last three attacks on the island and how they had so bloodily failed--the Germans hadbeen somehow forewarned of the seaborne assault, had been waiting for the Special Boat Service and the Commandoswith everything they had and had cut them to pieces, while the two airborne groups had had the most evil luck, beendelivered up to the enemy by misjudgment, by a series of unforeseeable coincidences; or how Panayis and himself hadon both occasions narrowly escaped with their lives--Panayis had actually been captured the last time, had killed bothhis guards and escaped unrecognised; of the disposition of the German troops and check-points throughout theisland, the location of the road blocks on the only two roads; and, finally, of what little he himself knew of the layout ofthe fortress of Navarone itself. Panayis, the dark one, could tell him more of that, Louki said: twice Panayis had beeninside the fortress, once for an entire night: the guns, the control rooms, the barracks, the officers' quarters, themagazine, the turbo rooms, the sentry points--he knew where each one lay, to the inch.Mallory whistled softly to himself. This was more than he had ever dared hope for. They had still to escape the netof searchers, still to reach the fortress, still to get inside it. But once inside--and Panayis must know how to get inside. .. . Unconsciously Mallory lengthened his stride, bent his back to the slope."Your friend Panayis must be quite something," he said slowly. "Tell me more about him, Louki.""What can I tell 'you?" Louki shook his head in a little flurry of snowflakes. "What do I know of Panayis? Whatdoes anyone know of Panayis? That he has the luck of the devil, the courage of a madman and that sooner the lion willlie down with the lamb, the starving wolf spare the flock, than Panayis breathe the same air as the Germans? We allPage 48