The Dark Side of the Island. Jack Higgins

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      ‘About the job?’ Boyd shrugged. ‘The same as usual. Why?’

      Lomax shook his head. ‘No special reason. We seem to have been doing this sort of thing rather frequently lately, that’s all. We can’t last for ever, you know.’

      ‘Neither can the war,’ Boyd told him. ‘In any case, it’s fifty-fifty every time. Even I know that much mathematics.’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Lomax said. ‘This one’s different. In Crete, a man could run a long way in those mountains, but Kyros is a small island.’

      ‘We’ve been on small islands before,’ Boyd told him. ‘Besides, we’ve got Alexias here to show us around. We’ll be all right.’

      Alexias grinned and his teeth looked very white against the dark stubble of his beard. ‘Sure, everything’s going to be fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.’

      ‘Who said I was worried?’ Lomax swung his legs to the floor. ‘You two get the stuff together. I’ll see you up top in five minutes.’

      After they had gone, he sat there on the edge of the bunk finishing his coffee. It tasted foul, but then so did the cigarette.

      He was tired, that was the trouble. Too damned tired and everything was beginning to blur a little at the edges. He definitely needed a rest after this one. A month in Alex should do it, but he’d been promised that for a year now. He pulled on his sheepskin coat, reached for his beret and moved outside.

      He moved through into the control room and mounted the conning-tower ladder to the bridge. Above him, the round circle of the night was scattered with brilliant stars and he breathed the fresh salt air deep into his lungs and suddenly felt better.