Chapter One

Their first concern was to select the proper site: a hill southeast of the mountain that screened its location from the radars. It began as a firm flat plateau rolling up gently toward an inclining slope and ended in a peak overlooking the coastline. It was an expanse of interspersed olive trees and cypresses that covered an area close to twenty five acres. To the northern part, a narrow, paved, private road led toward serried pine trees and everlasting, green-clad shrubs, three thousand feet from the sea below. Often big waves swept the open bay from the west, but in calm moments, the sea became deep blue or clear green--a sea of rare beauty.
The site was chosen about one year ago, at the beginning of spring. The exploration of the area from a helicopter proved useful. They were searching for an expanse of no more than forty acres that probably met certain requirements. They soon ended in this specific spot. Since the owner of that field was only one, the contract was signed immediately, and construction began.
It was not something excessively impressive: a grand structure, whose partial units were constructed somewhere else, carried and assembled at this particular place--within a distance of about two hundred meters from the local road. It occupied the center of the area, which remained almost clear of cypresses and pine trees, and where foundations had been excavated in great depth, on a firm layer of earth, and proper bases from concrete had been made. The structure as a whole had a touch of old country style, especially on the inclining red tiled roofs. Next to it, at a distance of about twenty-five meters, was placed a smaller rather circular building. Both buildings, which were connected with an enclosed arcade, were artfully adjusted to the natural environment and stood in harmony with each other.
The residents of the village, about two kilometers west, had said at that time: "One more villa; we must get used to seeing them." Some others added the common talk of those years: "We must get used to the idea that we will serve to live." (The verb "get used to" has remained in frequent use for many centuries.)
Besides, in those years, the interest of buying land from multinational companies, or from intermediate multinational companies, from rich and less rich civilians, and every type--clever and less clever--adventurers was very common. Generally, the whole so-called developed, rich, industrial North--and every type of rich and less rich, from every part of the earth--seemed for a moment (and it's possible it was a misleading impression that was not considering the multiple, imponderable factors) that they were going to move, for a few days or for a few months, to the picturesque so-called underdeveloped South, a good and vigorous, in its realization, snapshot of movement, which in turn was dragging along the "powerful" residents of the area to adjust by building. However, this new period of rendering of services, which existed for centuries, was now at its new great development and bound with the joy of life of the village. It was unknown how long it would last and what fruits it was going to bring.
One year after the selection of the site, toward the end of June, the construction was completed. The place around was landscaped; some olive trees were uprooted, and replaced by various plants, trees and bushes. Flower beds were created and the land was fenced (already from the beginning of the purchase this by itself was impressive) with a special, strong wire netting of about three meters in height.
There were two entrances to the property. One which faced the main road and was shut by a big, metallic door; and a second one facing north to the narrow road which led to the sea through bushes and pine trees. The second entrance seemed to consist of a combination of wood and metal.
The edifice was done in early July. The wild flowers had already wilted in the nearby fields. The ashen color of the desiccated plants in combination with the ashen limbs of olive trees, branches that ended in bright green leaves, and the blue--once deep blue--of the sky dominated. They were welcomed by the increasing buzz of cicadas hiding in olive trees and cypresses and the cool western breeze from the sea. The building, as well as the construction, presented nothing of interest. Besides, the equipment inside the buildings was put in place in an overly slow pace so as not to attract much attention. Some villagers had remarked: "It's about a house with supermodern electronic equipment." Perhaps they borrowed those expressions "supermodern" and "electronic equipment" from TV advertisements. Yet, the matter didn't cause long discussions as to create mystery or even fear, as, for instance, in older times, when there was talk about the establishment of radars on the surrounding mountains or of nuclear plants near the lakes and swamps. They hadn't discovered anything formidably dark, as when they talked about "excavated areas," of mountains with "underground tunnels," or of caves near the sea, that could have been areas with stored nuclear weapons or launching-site pads.
The establishment almost escaped notice. Early July, on Monday, around four o'clock in the afternoon, they arrived in two cars. There was only a man and a woman. Neither domestic staff nor bodyguards nor friends were seen. Aris carried the suitcases himself from the car to the house. Danae carried two multi-colored handbags holding them with exceptional care. Aris was a strongly built, well trained man, around forty-five, with rough features and a rather dark face. Young Danae, fresh and joyful, with a smile always on her face, was one of those women whose age you can hardly be guessed by their external appearance.