The Island of Screams

12 A vacation paradise with a chain link fence

Rethymnon

"Where am I?" Tom wondered when he woke up the next morning. It took a moment for him to remember. The huge bed made of tubular steel stood in a musty room that was crammed full with a desk and chair, a cupboard, but above all endless stacks of books. Basilis had given them the room next to his own. Tom wondered how he would feel if two total strangers slept in his bed without asking him. Was that still hospitality or already socialism?

After an extended shower with pleasantly lukewarm water, he had a detailed conversation with the Tom in the mirror who had traveled to Crete and was now distributing clever advice such as that you should always fill up a Vespa when the tank is half empty. Tom felt ready for his first real job. When Dave had reached a similar level of freshness, they sat down on the terrace with Basilis and Lydia.

After breakfast, Basilis spread out a road map and explained the details of today's mission to them:

"First you take the main road to Chania. Do a few laps in Rethymnon to get to know the town and memorize the routes to your friends' hotel. You never know what that can be good for. Then you continue towards Chania.

"About a quarter of an hour after Rethymnon, a dirt road branches off to the left, the sign says "Mouri". Drive up to its end, that's by a lake, and turn right. After 100 meters there is an inn that stands alone. Sit down and have a drink. During the week only dinner is served there, so you won't get anything to eat at noon. Put the bag with the radio under the table and leave it there. Is everything fine so far?"

"Who at the inn knows we're coming?" Tom asked Basilis.

"The innkeeper is expecting you. When he has taken the bag, you go back on the main road and turn in the direction of Chania. After half an hour you'll pass a gas station. Note the odometer reading. Two kilometers further on you will see the fence of the Souda Bay Military Area on the right below the road. After 500 meters there is an offering box on the left side of the road, and on the right about 50 meters behind the fence there is a small white hut. Our man will be waiting there tomorrow night.

"Memorize the spot carefully, but don't stand out. During the day there's a lot of traffic, but at night there are hardly any cars on the road. Then take a look around Chania so that you'll find your way when you go there to pick up Andreas. Go back to the lake so that you'll be there when it gets dark. You'll get dinner for free of course. The innkeeper will give you an old radio and documents, which must not fall into the wrong hands.

Wait until eleven o'clock. If anything unusual happens on the way back, go to your friends' hotel in Rethymnon. If necessary, you must hide the things with them."

"What if we get into a police checkpoint?" Tom asked.

"That has never happened on that road at night before. If the worst comes to the worst, you'll have to improvise. Let's hope everything goes well, so you can come straight here."

Tom and Dave looked at the map very carefully, had symbols explained to them and measured some distances.

"How far is the fence from the road?" Tom asked Basilis.

"Mostly 50 or 80 meters. There are a number of bushes you can hide behind at night."

"OK. Dave, you'll ride the bike, I'll sit on the pillion and hand over the radio."

"When you go to the fence," Dave added, "I'll stay with the scooter at the top of the street, a little further. I'll pull off the spark plug connector and unpack the toolbox. If anyone comes by, they'll think the scooter has broken down. It'll be less suspicious than riding around the area all the time."

Basilis strapped the bag with the radio to the luggage rack. Dave looked in the compartment under the seat and found a small toolbox. Then they drove off. The traffic on the coastal road was moderate, so they could speed along quite well. They passed some trucks, they were chilled by the wind, and Tom was glad he had his sunglasses on, so the mosquitoes died on the glasses, not in his eyes. He had also wanted to wear a helmet, like he did in Germany, but Basilis advised him against it. It was too conspicuous, he said, to ride a scooter with a helmet on Crete.

After three quarters of an hour they reached Rethymnon. Although they had studied the map of the town, they grew dizzy in the narrow streets, in which two motorcycles could pass each other, but not two cars. In the town center they found their friends' hotel, which couldn't be missed: the Australians were sitting on the narrow sidewalk in front of the building, Sandy with a guitar and Manny with a harmonica. Some tourists, but also a few Greeks stood around them and listened to the music. Tom and Dave stopped. Randy joined them.

"You reek of ouzo," whispered Tom. "Listen. If we don't show up here by one o'clock tonight, everything will be fine and you can go to sleep."

Tom and Dave rode on, and the Australians made their way to the fort west of the town center. Sandy and Manny had a new hobby: they had already photographed the "rooftop landscape" in Athens from all possible perspectives, from the hotel, from both the Acropolis and Lycabettos Hill. The Venetian Castle offered a good overview of Rethymnon. The view from a minaret would even have been better, but they would not be here long enough to climb a minaret, Sandy thought. He took a long drag from his water bottle, as his body was crying out for liquid. The last ouzo the night before had probably been one too many.

After a few laps across the town, Tom and Dave thought they could find the hotel again even with their eyes closed. On the way to the lake, they wished they had an off-road motorcycle. The Vespa wobbled quite a bit on the unpaved ground, so they couldn't go very fast.

The inn, a two-story, whitewashed building, stood 50 meters above the lake shore at the foot of a wooded slope. There was a lot of hustle and bustle here at the weekend, as the tavern had a reputation for masterful preparation of the fish from the lake. But today they were the only guests. A young man who spoke only the bare essentials of English brought them coffee and water. He refused payment. After half an hour they were on the road again. They "forgot" the bag under their table.

They refueled the scooter at the gas station Basilis had described to them and rode the next few kilometers attentively. Everything was as Basilis had described. There was, however, one thing he hadn't told them: how beautiful it was here. A huge bay with white beaches and turquoise water stretched to the right, behind which hilly terrain arose with some functional buildings on it.

This could have been a real holiday paradise were it not for this chain link fence attached to concrete pillars, about 12 feet high and topped with barbed wire, and a huge American aircraft carrier in the middle of the bay. A few more warships were moored at the piers, and vehicle hangars and barracks could also be seen in the distance.

Half an hour later Tom and Dave were sitting on the quay wall in Chania in front of the Nautical Museum and enjoying the view of the old harbor with its colorful houses and the lighthouse at the end of the pier. The city wasn't much smaller than Heraklion, and the traffic in the center was just as chaotic but was quieter where they were sitting. Every now and then a military vehicle drove by.

They discussed the course of the next day. Actually, it all looked very simple. Only once did a roadblock flash before Tom's inner eye. He dismissed the thought very quickly, he was already quite good at dispelling his fears. The sun, the light sea wind and the romantic view helped to create holiday feelings.