Dancing with Spies: Adventure, Mystery, Romance, #3

By Michael Hillier

The woman began to bounce up and down like a horse-rider trotting, gasping with pleasure. The man beneath her was jerking in violent spasms. There came an animal howl of hurt which brought their movements to a juddering halt. Caroline knew she had to get away.

The ferry´s engines had stopped. The only port they could reach is Dubrovnik. But the Yugoslav Civil War is happening and Dubrovnik is under siege. Will the JNA open fire?

She was struck across the face. A vice-like grip held her mouth half open. She could taste the dirt on the horny palm of the man´s hand. A steel band seemed to grip round her chest. "Be still or you will feel the point of my knife."

Through the window she could see a man was seated, tied upright to the back of a chair. There was blood streaming down his face and his hair was dishevelled. Then the shutters were banged shut and she saw no more.

The wind plucked great tongues of flame and brought them rolling down the hillside. The tinder-dry vegetation caught fire immediately. The hot air sucked up burning twigs and tossed them further down the hill, starting more small fires ahead.

With a sinking feeling, she realised she had to climb up those rough, bent pieces of iron. One was missing, leaving a large gap. She hated heights. What would she find when she got to the top?

Several flashes were scattered on the mountainside. A few seconds later a dull rumble reached them. A great explosion of fire suddenly mushroomed up and lit the shapes of the buildings ahead. It felt as though they were sailing into the mouth of hell.

Dubrovnik had come under fire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KSF Publishing
• Release date: Oct 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393617488

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Michael Hillier

The right of Michael Hillier to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.

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Copyright © Michael Hillier 2015

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Published by KSF Publishing

All characters in this publication are fictitious and resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

To my late wife Sue.

Inspiration, researcher, critic, editor and best friend

HISTORICAL NOTE

For those wishing to understand the historical background to this novel I offer the following brief note:

Arising from the various treaty assemblies at the end of the First World War in 1918 an attempt was made to sort out the countries lying between Greece and Hungary by creating a new nation which became known as Yugoslavia. This was cobbled together from regions previously controlled by the Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman empires together with the state of Serbia which had achieved independence more than fifty years earlier. Serbs amounted to about half of the population of the new nation and they held most of the senior positions in the political and military sections of the community. This was naturally resented by the other five ethnic groups.

Dubrovnik is a beautiful old walled city on the Adriatic Coast which was named a World Heritage Site in 1979. It is situated in the southernmost part of Croatia, cut off from the rest of that country and more than five hundred kilometres by road from the capital, Zagreb. Just inland from the city is a range of high, bleak mountains. Scattered away to the north-west are a number of beautiful rocky islands. Dubrovnik with its small surrounding piece of coastal plain is isolated.

In 1991 Croatia and Slovenia (two of the constituent states) elected to secede from the Yugoslav Federation. This resulted in the start of the Civil War as all the other states followed their lead, wishing to break away from Serb dominance. Early in the conflict, which became increasingly violent and destructive as it progressed, Dubrovnik was besieged by a force of the JNA (the so-called Yugoslav peoples´ army) variously estimated at between seven and twenty thousand strong. To defend the city there were only fifteen hundred Croatian soldiers with no heavy weapons. The besieging force consisted mainly of neighbouring Montenegrins who claimed Dubrovnik should be part of their country. They were armed with a number of large-calibre guns. After several months of hesitation the JNA opened fire on first October. Between then and May 1992 nearly two thirds of the beautiful old city was damaged or destroyed and over a hundred of its citizens were killed.

This novel takes place in the weeks leading up to first October.

-  1 -

It was dark when Caroline awoke. Just the faintest glow crept under the cabin door to illuminate her surroundings. There was the familiar gentle sway and the myriad little creaks to indicate they were still at sea. But something had changed. After a couple of minutes’ thought, she realised that the throb of the ferry’s engines, which had been with them all day, had ceased. Did that mean something was wrong?

She pushed back the cover and sat up carefully on the edge of the bed. She didn’t want to disturb Brian who was snoring softly on the bunk above her. Listening carefully, she fancied she could hear raised voices somewhere. Was some sort of dispute taking place? Caroline slipped her feet into her soft shoes. Crossing to the door, she took down her coat and put it on. She tossed back her shoulder-length chestnut hair and gently turned the handle. She let herself out into the dimly lit corridor.

Outside the cabin the sound of the argument was clearer. It seemed to be coming from the lounge where the dozen or so English-speaking travellers spent quite a bit of their time. Within twenty yards she turned into the cross corridor, still following the sound, and came to the double doors which formed the entrance to the area. Caroline hesitated. Was she trespassing into a forbidden dispute? But she had every right to be here. So she summoned up the courage to go into the big room.

Despite the noise they were making, there were only four people there. A man with dirty overalls, presumably the engineer, was chattering away in Italian, his hands waving extravagantly. He was directing his diatribe at the captain who was still dressed in his official jacket with the gold stripes on the sleeves. From time to time the officer fired staccato questions at the engineer. Nobody took any notice of Caroline’s entrance.

Can somebody tell me what the hell is happening? It was the big, aggressive American called Harris who appeared to have arrived just before Caroline. She had been introduced to him the previous day and thought of him as the type of loud-mouthed individual she disliked. He was wearing a blue striped dressing-gown. He turned to the local tour guide who was standing, listening to the other two. What the hell are these guys saying?

Elena Krestovic was a short, plump, dark, rather bossy Yugoslav. They say they have found salt water in the diesel tanks. The engineer say it has already been pumped through into the engines. When the water got to the engines, that is what made the noise which woke you up. The man say if they had not stopped the engines at once they would be very badly broken.

How the hell did water get in the diesel?

The courier shook her head. They say they do not know. The engineer say it never happen to him before.

So how long will it take him to get it sorted?

Elena addressed the captain in rapid Italian. Both men replied together, hands waving energetically. She turned back to the American.

They say that is not so easy. They have to drain the fuel out of the whole system. Then they have to replace it with clean fuel and oil before they can start the engines again.

"Christ!  How long’s that going to take?"

The engineer say two or three days. But he cannot do it out in the sea. He must have special tanks and pump the fuel into them so that it can be separated from the water.

What! Harris shook his head in disbelief. So does that mean we’re gonna just be drifting for three days?

The courier had another exchange with the Italian officers. Do not worry. They have a small extra engine – how you say? – a relief engine, which they use for moving around in harbour. That engine has a special fuel tank which they don’t think has water in it. She pulled a face. But I am sorry. That will mean we can only move at about two kilometres an hour and the engineer say the relief engine has a range of less than fifty kilometres. They will start that engine in a few minutes and they will take us to a port.

"I should damn well hope so. Where is the nearest port?"

That is what they argue about. The engineer wants to go to Bari in Italy but that is a hundred and fifty kilometres away. The captain say that it means calling on the radio for a tow. She gave him a twisted smile. That will cost a lot of money. The other port is Gruz, which is the port of Dubrovnik. That is only twenty kilometres behind us.

Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? We can be in this place before lunch. What are we waiting for?

Ah! She shook her head. But there are problems.

What problems?

Surely you know, said Elena, about the problems in Yugoslavia at the moment.

Harris’s mouth dropped open. Christ! I’d forgotten about that. We can’t go there then.

Miss Krestovic started talking to the captain again. Now she turned to Harris. I am sorry, but we have no choice. The captain say there is a weather report about a severe electrical storm which come up the Adriatic. It will be here in the next twenty-four hours. The captain say he won’t risk his ship being in the middle of the storm without all his engines. He say we have no choice. We have to go to Gruz.

But for god’s sake, woman. Harris grabbed her sleeve. Tell this guy he’s responsible for the safety of his passengers. He can’t take us into a war-zone.

Elena spoke again to the captain who lifted his hands and shrugged expressively. She turned back to Harris. He say he is sorry but he has no choice. He has called his company in Venice on the radio and they have told him he must go to Gruz. They say the city is safe at the moment. They say the passengers will be in more danger if the ship stay at sea.

I don’t agree with that. Harris grabbed the captain by the sleeve and tried to argue with him in loud, slow English. Elena attempted to translate but the Italian wasn’t impressed. After a minute the man shook off Harris’s hand and strode out of the room. The engineer disappeared down the companion way to the car deck on his way to the engine room.

Harris seemed to notice Caroline for the first time and turned towards her, probably looking for support. But, deciding she had heard enough, she backed out of the room and returned to her cabin.

When she got there, Brian was still asleep, obviously undisturbed by the events outside his knowledge or control. But she didn’t find that comforting. She hesitated for a long minute just inside the door, wondering whether to wake him. At last she decided against it. Previous experience had told her that he could be grumpy if he was suddenly woken up. And what could he do in any case?

So she decided not to wake him. She climbed back into her bunk, but it was a long time before she fell asleep.

-  2 -

In fact it wasn’t until late afternoon the following day that the ferry finally docked in Gruz, the modern port a mile or so north of the Old City of Dubrovnik. The delay had been caused by the relief engine playing up. It was as if it objected to being overworked in the way demanded of it by the engineer.

However Caroline didn’t mind. The weather, at least for now, was beautiful and she enjoyed sitting on deck, with a book on her lap, watching the panoply of steep, tree-covered islands drifting slowly past on each side. Now, as they crept into the port, it was difficult to imagine that such a peaceful scene might soon be the centre of a war-zone. Virtually all the English-speaking passengers had gathered on the rear part of the deck to discuss the situation they found themselves in. Only Brian wasn’t present. He seemed to be disinterested in their problems. He had told Caroline not to waste time worrying about her little excursion in the middle of the night. According to him the ferry company knew what they were doing and there was no point in thinking about what might happen. So he had gone off somewhere else. She presumed he was taking more photos with his smart new camera.

Among the passengers were the two middle-aged American couples, the Harrises and the Winchesters. The former were complaining loudly to anyone who would listen about the incompetence of the Italian crew and the lack of consideration for their plight throughout the world in general. Caroline wondered why they had chosen to take the cheap option of the ferry down the Adriatic to Greece in the first place.

The only other English person was a doughty old Londoner called Mrs Abrams, who apparently spent all her waking hours knitting. Caroline couldn’t imagine what had caused her to be travelling on her own from Northern Italy to Athens.

There was also a handful of other nationalities whose only common denomination was an ability to speak a little more English than Italian. The final member of the group was a glamorous young American, Helen Forrest, who seemed able to speak Serbo-Croat. Nobody had commented on the fact that she and Elena Krestovic, the guide, chatted away quietly in a corner and showed little interest in anybody else. From time to time the courier was accosted by one of the other passengers, wanting information about the area or advice about what to do in their present predicament. Caroline grinned when it happened. That was the joy of being a travel guide.

Caroline returned her attention to the scene around them. They had finally reached the point where they were just entering the harbour. She noticed there were no other big ships in the port. In fact the place was completely empty except for a few small, open boats tied up to a jetty at one side. One of these little boats had set out to meet them. It was propelled by two swarthy oarsmen in striped T-shirts. A third man stood in the middle of the boat, balancing expertly as it rocked in the slight swell. As it neared the side of the ferry he conducted a shouted conversation with the captain who was leaning over the wing of the bridge nearest the small boat. The conversation was accompanied by many gesticulations. As a result the ship changed direction slightly as it headed for one of the concrete wharves.

Caroline looked up to the bleak, grey mountains behind the city. The men in their group had been discussing all day what might be developing up there. Apparently the majority seemed to think that was where the threat would come from. It was hard to imagine an army struggling all the way up the other side of those precipitous peaks, some over five thousand feet high, with heavy artillery to threaten them. It was even harder to picture them actually opening fire on the beautiful Old City of Dubrovnik with all its priceless treasures. Surely, Caroline thought, there would be plenty of warning and protracted negotiations before it got to that eventuality.

She took a breath and mentally shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it. Meanwhile she might as well enjoy the sun and the scenery while she could. She rose to her feet and walked to the rail as the ferry eased alongside the modern concrete wharf. Great plaited hawsers were thrown down from the ship and hooked over the giant steel bollards on the dockside. Gradually the ferry pulled itself gently against the protecting baulks of timber fixed to the wharf. Down on the harbourside she could see a group of men waiting. Most of them were in uniform. She thought they didn’t look much of a welcoming party.

A gangway was slung up and linked to an opening in the ferry’s side. As soon as it had been secured most of the waiting men came hurrying up into the ship, leaving only three soldiers with rifles in their arms to stand guard on the dockside. Caroline watched for a while but nothing else seemed to happen. There was none of the usual flurry of activity which accompanied the docking of a ferry. No vehicles were lined up waiting to take away passengers or goods. No supplies were being delivered. There were no itinerant salesmen trying to tempt the travellers to buy their goods.

A few minutes later one of the ship’s officers came on deck. He looked round and caught sight of Elena Krestovic. He came over and spoke to her. Elena got to her feet.

We all have to go to the cafeteria, she announced.

There was a second’s silence, then a babble of questions. The courier raised a hand to silence them.

I’m sorry, but I do not know any more than you. I think we must go down and find out what we will be told.

The gossiping collection of tourists followed her down to the cafeteria which took up a large part of the covered upper deck of the ferry. They were shown to tables and asked to sit. Looking round, Caroline could see there were more than a hundred people in the room altogether. In addition to the English-speaking group, there were seventy or eighty other passengers, mainly Greek and Italian lorry drivers. About twenty crew and staff stood or sat around near the food counter, which was closed. The captain stood in the open area where one usually queued for food. Beside him was a short, swarthy middle-aged man in a suit with a shock of dark curly hair. Caroline looked carefully round the room but she could see nothing of Brian. Where on earth was he?

When everybody was settled, the man with the curly hair stepped forward and addressed them in Serbo-Croat. He paused from time to time to let the captain translate into Italian. Elena told them what he was saying

He say he is the Deputy Governor of the Dubrovnik district, said Elena. He say he is here on behalf of the People’s Republic of Croatia. She pulled a face. He say nothing of what is happening in Yugoslavia.

The man went on again and paused for his words to sink in.

Elena cleared her throat. He say the Croatian Council of Dubrovnik have arrested the ferry for entering their territorial waters without a permit. He say soldiers will be placed on the vessel and they have an engineer who will instruct the crew of the ferry about how they must repair the engines and about what other action they must take. The courier with a strange look on her face, Everything seems to have been prepared. I think that they have been expecting us to come here.

The captain was obviously protesting vigorously about having his ship taken over but the deputy governor waved him to silence and continued.

The ferry will be backed against the end of the wharf and a ramp will be made against the ship. All drivers must remove their vehicles from the ferry. The vehicles will be impounded in a safe area. All drivers are to make a declaration of the goods they are carrying in their vehicles.

There’s no way I’m taking my car off this ferry, said Harris, but everyone ignored him because the deputy governor was talking again.

The passengers will be taken to hotels in the Old City where they will be safe and comfortable and where they will be fed and cared for. The Council will give all passengers a safe passage out of Dubrovnik as soon as that can be arranged. She took a breath. But he can’t say at the moment when that will be. He say there are many people who are waiting to leave and some others will have priority.

What does that mean? Harris was on his feet. I get it. We’re going to be used as some sort of human shield. They think they’ll be safe as long as they’ve got some American citizens they can stick in the firing line.

There was a buzz of anxious chatter in the English-speaking group.

Harris continued. Well, I won’t have it. I’m going to complain to our ambassador.

The Deputy Governor took no notice of his interjection as he carried on.

Passengers will be free to move about Dubrovnik and the close area around the City as we wish, translated Elena. However he say it may be necessary to restrict our movements later and we will be told about that in our hotels. He say there are still buses from to time to time to go to Cavtat and Cilipi, if we want to visit those resorts. We can take local boats to Lokrum Island and go to the Lapad Peninsula. But he say most of the resort hotels have closed. The airport has been closed except for military planes and all roads out of the area are blocked. He say the Adriatic Highway is closed just south Herceg Novi and also at Komolac in the north. That’s where the marina is. He say the cable car to the top of Mount Srd has also been closed. He say buses will be coming to take us to our hotels in about half an hour. They will keep us in our national groups as far as possible.

The deputy governor nodded to the assembled passengers and turned away. His speech was obviously finished.

Harris took the courier by the sleeve. Will you tell this guy that I demand to see the US ambassador.

I will see what he say. Elena went forward and spoke to the deputy governor in his own language. The man replied at some length and turned away in dismissal. She returned to the group.

I am sorry, Mr Harris. He say the United States doesn’t yet recognize the Republic of Croatia and therefore it doesn’t have an ambassador. American citizens are being referred to the International Red Cross which has a base in Zagreb. However they do not yet have anybody in Dubrovnik. Also is not possible at present for foreign civilians to move between the two cities. She shrugged. I am sorry that there is nothing you can do at present. I will of course tell you if anything changes. But until then I think you will have to co-operate with the local officials.

Hell - that just ain’t good enough. Harris squared up to her. Now this is what I want you to do . . .

You’d better keep your trap shut, Mr Harris, Helen Forrest interrupted sharply. If you want Miss Krestovic to translate for you and help you through the problems of being in a strange city in very difficult times, I suggest you try being nice to her. She’s not an employee of yours and she doesn’t owe you any duty. If I were you I’d make sure I kept on the right side of her.

Harris took a step back almost as if she had slapped him. He looked round for support but no-one came to his aid. Muttering darkly, he resumed his seat.

I hope you will all try to be co-operative, said Elena. I think the Yugoslav officials have many problems but they will do their best for us. I think they will look after us as well as they can, provided we don’t cause them any trouble. I think we should all keep together and be ready to go on board the ferry again when it is permitted to leave the port. I hope that will mean we will only be here for a few days and we will not be in danger. Do you agree?

There was a general chorus of assent. Harris kept his gaze on the floor and didn’t seem willing to argue any more at present. However Caroline wondered whether he might cause trouble later on,, if their stay in Dubrovnik lasted more than a few days.

Very well. Elena breathed an audible sigh of relief. The Deputy Governor say that coaches will be coming to pick us up in about half an hour. Can you please all go to your cabins now and pack your cases. We will meet here in about twenty-five minutes. Then we can make sure we keep together. If anyone needs help with carrying their cases, please ask me, and I will try to get a member of the crew to help.

The involuntary guests dispersed, generally somewhat reassured by her words. However Caroline noticed that nobody seemed to have any idea of what was going to happen next.

-  3 -

A hush fell over the room as the new man walked in and the twenty or so ‘guests’ in the lounge of the Dubravka Hotel looked up at him. The previous half-hearted argument which had been going on between Harris and some of the others was snuffed out. Once again Brian was missing. Surely he couldn’t be taking more photographs. The man who confronted them was tall, slim, fair-haired and blue-eyed. But his good looks were marred for Caroline by his scornful expression as he surveyed the anxious faces of the passengers.

Good evening. My name is Ralph Henderson. His voice was hard and accentless - the type an actor learns at drama school. I’m a journalist working for the International News Agency. There is no longer a British consul in Dubrovnik. In fact there are no foreign officials here at all. Your previous courier, Elena Krestovic has been arrested. The local bosses – I can’t call them more than that - have refused to tell me why, but I suspect it is simply because she is Serbian. So they have asked me to talk to you and see if I can be of help to you in your present predicament.

The older, more learned American was called Winchester. He leaned forward. "Can you tell me exactly what is our predicament?"

"We’re stuck