Below the Radar - Cyprus Summer of '74

Chapter 8 : The By-pass Incident II (Stand By Me)

As they closed on the bar ahead the distinctive and instant classic reggae instrumental hit The Liquidator by the Harry J Allstars - pounded out through the open double doors. The three waiting Greeks who had initially stepped boldly out into the middle of the pavement, now moved back quickly, seemingly having judged themselves outnumbered for the moment.

That is until Ned and Simon had passed them by. Quickly striding back out one tripped Alex, kicking at his back as he sprawled on the pavement. Alex grunted in pain. Another lad tried to grab Rick round the neck, exchanging a couple of half blows until Will, Dan and Nige followed quickly up. They clubbed the lad tussling with Rick and dragged him away. Will struck another one hard on the ear with a sharp right hand as Dan pulled Alex to his feet. Ned and Simon turned at the commotion, starting back but Dan shouted at them to keep going. Seeing everyone back on their feet they kept moving forward.

The gang slowed once more, re-grouping as they reached more open bondoo ground, all breathing heavily, particularly Ned who was no athlete. Dan helped Alex dust himself off and they checked Rick, who was ok other than a small graze on his cheek.

Immediately two more Greek lads appeared, not 20 yards ahead this time and a third on a bike swerved violently off the by-pass onto the bondoo directly across Simon's path. Simon, being in the lead, had no time to stop and ran straight into the bike. Moving at pace he fell right over the handlebars taking the rider to the floor with him, creating a small dust cloud and more confusion. Simon had the better landing coming down on top of the cyclist, using his forearm and elbow into the throat to keep him down. After a flurry of quick punches into the face of the Greek lad wedged beneath him and the bike, he jumped to his feet, shouting for everyone to get moving again. In the midst of this the other two Greeks were at a loss and outnumbered, deciding to help the winded and bruised cyclist to his feet as the British lads moved on.

Will was thinking ahead. "We can't keep running like this. They'll catch us soon and we're all struggling. If they catch us now, with more joining them all the time, we're in for a right battering. But we can't stop to wait for the bus either."

Will was talking to everyone, but looking around Simon naturally picked it up.

"No shit Sherlock, for now we just have to keep moving. They're not sure where we're heading, who knows – maybe they'll tire of chasing us soon. Blowing out your arses or not, everyone has to jog another half mile at least, while I think of something."

Simon scanned the faces around him again. All were breathing hard, several slumped with hands on thighs. Will was a fit lad and Ryan was right by his shoulder as always, but no-one was in great shape and it was clear they couldn't run for much longer. Being no other option, with nods and grimaces they started off again at a jog towards the next set of bars, restaurants and shops further ahead.

They had now run, jogged or walked well over a mile from the first bus stop, nearly two thirds distance along the full length of the by-pass. As they headed off, the bus they'd been hoping to catch raced past to their right. With the next stop much too far ahead to be realistic, what limited options they had were disappearing fast. They watched forlornly as the back of the bus disappeared towards the end of the by-pass and Akrotiri. Alex looked around. It was clear nobody knew how this was all going to end.

Yet another, larger group of local boys on bikes raced past on the by-pass just 10 yards to their right. They flew by shouting threats and calling back to the growing mob jogging along behind, who were rapidly closing on the British lads who unconsciously drew tighter together still.

A quarter of a mile further on they approached the next set of shops and bars. Everyone was now breathing hard and aching from the new lumps and cuts they'd acquired. As they approached the first bar Rick and Nige who were now at the front, slowed cautiously. They could see a large group of some twelve to fifteen locals seventy five yards ahead. The original tough cyclist with black curly hair stood at the front. Jointly they barred the way ahead, spread at least two deep across the full width of the pavement and well into the bondoo.