“The obvious thing is the parachute drop on Monday night.”

“Where’s that?”

Manoli paused, looking at Lockhart suspiciously.

“Manoli! I’m not a real bloody traitor!”

“So why are you so keen to know?”

“So I can tell Fasshauer that it’s somewhere else.”

Manoli chewed his lip.

“All right. It’s up at Arkadi.”

An image of Anna walking through the monastery flashed up, but before he started to wallow, Lockhart collected himself.

“Good, so all I have to do now is to tell Fasshauer it’s over at Asigonia or somewhere, and Dietrich will send his goons to the wrong place.”

“And what happens when they find nothing there?”

“I’ll tell them I was misinformed, or that the plan had changed. I’ll have to give them something eventually, but let’s worry about that when we come to it.”

“We, John, we?”

“Sorry?”

“I don’t know if I want to be part of this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Manoli!”

“How do I know that you aren’t really a traitor?”

Lockhart was stunned. Did Manoli really think that?

“For Pete’s sake, I’m bloody well not! Do you really think I would betray you? I’d rather kill myself. Look, Manoli—if we can make this work, it buys us all a chance. If anybody has to be sacrificed, then of course it had better be me—this is my plan after all—but Christ! I’m no bloody traitor! I never would be. And if I thought I was going to be, then I would shoot myself without any hesitation.”

Manoli sat in silence.

“Come on, Manoli,” Lockhart implored. “Just give it a chance. If it doesn’t work, then I’ll do the decent thing, but let’s just give it a go. What do you say?”

Manoli looked up.

“I have to think about this. I’m not going to give you an answer now. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“All right. I suppose that’s fair.”

“Just don’t force me, John. This is my island, not yours, and these are my men. Your last plan lost us Niko and Christos and the rest of us only just managed to escape.”

“I’m sorry, Manoli.”

“I’m not asking you to be sorry. I know we must take risks—but just remember the consequences.”

The two men sat in silence. Lockhart was inwardly kicking himself—he had been too pushy with Manoli. Idiot, Lockhart. Anna always had a go at him about this, his habit of expecting things to go his own way. She said it was the outcome of having a laissez-faire father and no mother.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you into anything, Manoli. Perhaps my plan is absurd and far too risky. But I don’t want to blackmail you by saying that I’ll kill myself if you don’t want any part of it. I’ll just disappear. I’ll get off the island. Try to get back to Cairo.”

“And when you disappear, the Germans will kill Anna.”

“Perhaps.”

“They’ve got you by the balls.”

Lockhart laughed gently at Manoli’s use of idiom.