“Worse.”

“You’re surrounded by politicians?”

“Just one. I have to go, kisses.” Andreas hung up and let out a breath.

“You’re a lucky guy,” said Andreas’ boss, Greece’s minister of public order. “My wife would have killed me if I’d done something like that to her less than two weeks before our wedding.” He smiled.

“There’s still time.” Andreas attempted to force a smile. Twenty minutes until they reached Tinos. “You do realize the press will be waiting for us?”

“It is their duty to report this massacre. We’re talking about mass murder on the island of the Church of Panagia Evangelistria, the Lourdes of Greece.”

Andreas could tell the minister was rehearsing his pitch for the cameras. Andreas preferred listening to the rotors.

Panagia was an Eastern Orthodox title for the Virgin Mary and Evangelistria referred to the Annunciation when the angel Gabriel announced to the Virgin Mary the incarnation of Christ. Tinos’ Church of the Annunciation, Panagia Evangelistria, was the most revered religious shrine in Greece. More than a million pilgrims flocked there each year, many seeking healing from the Miraculous Icon of the Virgin Mary, the Megalochari. Megalochari meant “Great Grace” and was the Greek people’s unofficial name for The Holy Icon of the Annunciation of Tinos kept within the Church of Panagia Evangelistria.

Andreas stared at his minister. “Let’s just try not to make any promises we can’t keep.”

Minister Spiros Renatis glared back, but said nothing. His carefully cultivated public image depended upon Andreas staying on as Greece’s number one cop for all things nasty and both men knew that. And being incorruptible gave Andreas a bottom line freedom many in government did not share: knowledge that he could earn far more elsewhere, especially in these days of mandated deep cuts by the European Union, International Monetary Fund, and European Central Bank to every public servant’s pay. That gave rise to a simple arrangement: Andreas did things his way and Spiros took all the credit. They hadn’t yet worked out who’d take the blame if some day things went terribly wrong.