The Fifth Profession Read Online Free PDF Page A

Savage said. “As long as you stay careful.”
    “I'm always careful. Like you, I use intermediaries, and often messengers
between
intermediaries. I speak directly only to clients and those few assistants with whom I have a bond. You look worried, my friend.”
    “Six months ago, something happened to me. It made me doubly cautious.” Remembering, Savage felt his stomach clench.
    “Commendable. However, I note the lack of detail in your revelation.”
    Savage subdued his temptation to continue revealing. “It's a personal matter. Unimportant.”
    “I'm not convinced of this so-called unimportance, but I do respect your discretion.”
    “Just find out what I need.” Savage walked toward the door. “Papadropolis and his wife. Two days. That's all the time I can give you. When I return, I want to learn everything.”
    7
    The Cyclades are a cluster of small Aegean islands southeast of Athens. Their name derives from the Greek word
kyklos
or “circle” and refers to the ancient Greek belief that the islands surrounded Delos, the island upon which the sun god of truth, Apollo, was supposedly born. In fact, Delos is not at the center but near the eastern rim of the islands. A few kilometers farther east of it, on the edge of the Cyclades, lies Mykonos, one of Greece's main holiday areas, where tourists worship their own sun god.
    Savage piloted a two-engine, propellor-driven Cessna toward Mykonos, taking care to approach the island on an indirect course, first heading due east from Athens, then easing southward above the Aegean Sea until he flanked the eastern rim of his destination. He radioed the airport at Mykonos to notify the controller that he didn't intend to land. His flight was strictly for practice and pleasure, he explained, and if the controller would warn him which air routes to avoid, Savage would gratefully obey instructions.
    The controller obliged.
    At a distance and height of one-half kilometer, Savage put the Cessna on automatic pilot and began taking pictures. The Bausch and Lomb telephoto lens on his Nikon camera magnified images amazingly. The photographs would be further magnified after he developed them. The main thing, he knew from his training, was to take plenty of pictures, not only of his target but of its surroundings. Details that seemed unimportant at the moment could too often be crucial when he later constructed his plan.
    Yes, plenty of pictures.
    He paused frequently to readjust the Cessna's automatic pilot, then resumed his photographic surveillance. The sky was blue, the weather calm. The Cessna seemed to glide on a silken highway. His hands were rock steady. Except for the minor vibrations of the plane, conditions were perfect for taking clear photographs.
    His initial objective was the town of Mykonos on the western side of the island. The town spread around two small bays, its houses projecting onto a peninsula that separated each harbor. The buildings were shaped like intersecting cubes, each brilliantly white. Here and there, red domes— sometimes blue—identified churches. Windmills lined a jetty.
    But the design of the town, not its beauty, attracted Savage's attention. In antiquity, Mykonos had been a frequent target of pirates. To make their homes easier to protect, the local population had constructed the streets in the form of a labyrinth. Attacking pirates had no difficulty entering the town, but as they pillaged deeper into it, higher up its slopes, they soon discovered that the complex maze of lanes confused their sense of direction. The pirates could see their ship in the harbor below them, but to reach it, they had to test this and that route, all the while encountering ambushes set by the villagers. Eventually, after several defeats, the pirates left Mykonos alone in favor of uncomplicated prey on other islands.
    Yes, a labyrinth, Savage thought. I might be able to use that.
    Continuing to circle the island, all the while taking photographs, he reached a deep gulf