Jeffrey Siger_Andreas Kaldis 02 by Assassins of Athens Page A

from the prime minister’s office wouldn’t tell me, just said to tell you to ‘be there,’ but if I had to guess, I think I know who it is.”
    He’d learned to trust her instincts. “So, tell me already.”
    “Marios Tzoli.”
    “Shit.”
    “Thought you’d like that. He called me twice, insisting he must speak to you—”
    “Personally called?”
    “Yes, and I told him I couldn’t reach you. Then I got a call from the office of the minister of public order telling me you must call Marios immediately. I told them the same thing, I couldn’t reach you.”
    That minister was his boss. “Let me guess. Then came the call from the prime minister?”
    “Five minutes later.”
    “Boy, he really must be owed some favors.”
    “Shall I tell you some of them?” said Maggie giggling.
    “Not on the telephone, my love.” Andreas smiled.
    “Let me know what happens.”
    “Will do. And Maggie, have a blue-and-white meet me at that dome-thing. I have fingerprints I want the lab to run STAT.” He hung up. “Yianni, who do you think actually runs my office?”
    “I’d need permission from Maggie to answer that.”
    Andreas smiled again, and shook his head. “Well, what do you think has Greece’s number-one scandal-chasing TV personality all hot and bothered?”
    Kouros’ look turned serious. “You don’t think he somehow found out about, uh—”
    “Last night?” Andreas shook his head no. “Don’t think so. Only if it were a set-up from the start would he be so pumped up so quickly. Besides, as important as I seem to you,” he smacked Kouros’ shoulder, “I’m not close to the sort of person his viewers are interested in watching screw up their lives. Certainly not enough to get this kind of personal attention from the Man himself.”
    “So, what do you think it is?”
    Andreas shrugged. “Whatever it is, he’s sure anxious to tell us. Maybe it has to do with where he’s picked to meet?”
    “Yeah, it seems a bit dramatic, even for him.”
    “I think when referring to Marios he prefers that you spell ‘him’ with a capital H.”
    Kouros grinned. “Oh, yes, I forgot he’s one of our modern gods.”
    “All-knowing, all-powerful, gazing down upon us mere mortals from Mount TV, deciding who shall live, who shall die, and what bullshit gets the best ratings.”
    “Wonder who he’s after?”
    “Well, if it isn’t us, let’s not give him a reason to change his mind, like by keeping him waiting. Step on it, we’re already late.”
    They parked where parking was “strictly forbidden.” Cops always ignored those signs; it made them feel more like civilian Greek drivers in need of a parking space. Though in a hurry, they had to wait for the uniform cop to pick up Demosthenes’ fingerprints. They stood by the curb and stared at three connected structures identified by a sign atop the middle one: HELLENIC COSMOS.
    The futuristic Tholos, or dome in English, stood to the left and was by far the most dramatic architectural element of the 23,000-square-foot complex. It was a virtual-world sphere, created by civic-minded Athenians in the midst an old neighborhood of gas stations and commercial spaces badly in need of aesthetic attention. Here visitors experienced life amidst the commercial, political, cultural, and religious center of ancient Athens—the Agora—while sitting in a 130-seat theater “losing all sense of time and space.” At least that’s what a sign by the entrance read.
    Andreas pointed to the sign as they passed it. “Let’s hope that happened to Marios.” They were twenty minutes late for what he expected to be a pissy, prima donna performance by the self-styled “Voice of Greece.”
    They entered through the front door closest to the theater. He said to meet him there. They didn’t have to look for him. He was standing on the other side of the door looking at his watch. Short silver hair, bright blue eyes, a slim five-foot-six-inch frame, and an age falling somewhere