"My name is Phobos! I'll make sure you never forget it as long as you live." He laughed loudly.
"I know who you are all too well Phobos. And my name is Irene Blackmichael. Fuck you!" Irene shouted back.
"Yes. Irene Blackmichael, the town's very own half-black, mustachioed, traitorous bitch! A spy and a scout for enemy agents like this blond American. You will be tried tonight, so say good-bye to your dead friend," he laughed again. "It won't be long before you say hello to him."
"I think you are making a big mistake," Anna tried to reason with him.
"Three of our revolutionaries will act as judges. You can tell them your story."
Irene and Anna were tied to a rope and dragged behind the horse.
***
The town of Vianos was pitch dark, preparing for the German bombardment. Built against a steep mountainside, Vianos appeared picturesque from the distance. The group moved through the narrow streets and passed the village square and a big church with a marble fountain gushing spring water.
The thirsty horse rushed to the fountain to drink. This gave Anna an opportunity to put her head under the cool water and to make sure the men standing beside the church saw her. One man in particular Anna noted. She remembered the words of Father Gregorios: "His name is Christomanolis and he has a large burn scar on his face. If you run into any problems, go to him."
Upon seeing Anna, Christomanolis lit a candle and walked across the square. Phobos stopped him.
"Put out that damn light, Christomanolis!"
Anna looked at him and their eyes met.
"We ran out of matches, Phobos," Christomanolis said. "I came to get a light from the church. I'll go home quickly."
Anna's eyes followed the light as it retreated. At one point Christomanolis raised the candle high before he disappeared into a side street.
***
At the edge of the town stood a house alone. There Anna and Irene were thrown into a dark room below the ground. They could hear water running and smell the strong scent of raw alcohol.
"If we stay here too long, we will become drunk," joked Irene. "My father used to make the stuff.‛Tchikoudia,' he called it. The Italians bought it from him. They just loved it. Grappa, grappa, Seniore Nikos. I guess that's what they called it in their language." She let out a deep sigh. "Oh, yes ... he drank plenty himself, until his liver became harder than stone. God bless his soul."
"Your father's name was Nikos?" Anna wiped tears from her eyes. "My Nikolas, I must go to Souda Bay and find him."