‘You will be joining him presently,’ Muller said calmly. ‘But first, Skiros wishes to see you.’
Kane said, ‘What the hell is all this about, anyway?’
Muller got to his feet and reached for his hat. ‘But that is why I sent for you, my friend. That is what you are about to find out.’
He pushed back the tent flap and Kane followed him. They moved through the oasis, climbing up towards one side of the gorge, the two Bedouins at their heels, and men passed them going down to the oasis, heavy boxes on their shoulders.
They mounted a narrow ramp which seemed to be cut out of solid rock. At the top there was the entrance to a cave with a sentry standing beside it, and men worked stripped to the waist, dragging out more boxes, which they stacked ready to be carried down to the encampment. Muller brushed past them and Kane followed.
The cave was of no great size, but there seemed to be a variety of technical equipment piled on every side.
Skiros was sitting before a complicated short-wave transmitting and receiving set. As they came in, he removed the earphones from his head and swivelled on his stool. ‘Ah, Captain Kane. So you have arrived?’
There was a pleasant smile on his face as if this were some kind of party and Kane an eagerly awaited guest.
‘Quite a set-up you have here,’ Kane said.
Skiros nodded. ‘We are rather proud of it.’ He took a packet from his breast pocket and held it out. ‘Cigarette?’
Kane took one and said, ‘Don’t you think it’s time someone told me what this is all about?’
Skiros nodded. ‘But of course. Why else are you here?’ He gestured towards the stacked boxes. ‘Help yourself.’
The boxes were made of metal and painted a dull grey. Kane pulled one forward and undipped the lid. It was expertly packed with rifles, new and shining with grease from the factory. The next one contained submachine guns.
He took one out and examined it closely. It had been manufactured in Germany. He turned, his eyes hard. ‘I underestimated you. I thought maybe you were smuggling archaeological finds out of the country illegally, but this…”
Skiros smiled complacently. ‘Yes, it’s quite something, щщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщ(щщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщI C U T3 13 A щщщ..щщщщ.щщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщщ
^ |-| JH J-J ft isn’t it? We were extremely lucky finding such a place, thanks to Muller.’
‘Until Cunningham arrived. That must have been quite a shock.’
Skiros shook his head. ‘A slight inconvenience, that’s all.’
Kane turned again to the stacked cases of arms and kicked one of the boxes. ‘I suppose this is why the British have been having so much trouble with the tribes on the Oman border?’
Skiros smiled. ‘We do our small best, but the arms are simply a payment to the tribesmen for helping us. What they do with them is their own business.
Kane looked at the boxes again. ‘Those sub-machine guns are German.’
‘MP40S, the best.’
‘So you’re not even Greek?’
‘My mother was and her name was Skiros, but I’m proud to say my father was a German. It doesn’t matter what his name was.’
Kane turned and looked at Muller who had been standing silently by his side. ‘And how does Muller fit into the picture?’
‘Quite neatly,’ Skiros said. ‘He discovered the existence of this place from an old Bedouin who staggered into his camp near Shabwa one night, dying of thirst.’
Kane said, ‘For God’s sake, why did you have to deal with a vulture like this, Muller? Any one of a dozen foundations in Europe or America would have gladly given you financial backing.’
Muller looked embarrassed. ‘There were reasons.’
‘Indeed there were.’ Skiros laughed. ‘As you won’t be going anywhere I see no reason not to tell you the truth, my friend. Like me, the professor is a German – a good German. We serve the Third Reich and our Fiihrer, Adolf Hitler.’
‘My God,’ Kane said.
‘I work for the Abwehr, you know what that is?’
‘German military intelligence.’
‘Exactly. We’re going to win the coming war, my friend. The day after tomorrow is the ist of September. That’s when we invade Poland.’