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Chapter Twelve
They dressed aftera long, exploratory shower. She was going to show him ways to navigate the island without being recognized.
“Don’t tell me I have to wear a dress.”
“No, silly. Would you dye your hair?”
“No. Can. Do. That’s just beyond what a guy in my position will do. If that’s required, then we’re all doomed. I mean it.”
“But, Dimitri—” She tried to finger one of his buttons.
“Moira, stop it. I’m pissed off right now.”
“Oh,” she said as she slid her hand over his groin. “But you’re so hard when you’re angry.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Well, will you wear a wig?”
“A man’s wig?”
“Of course. Unless you’d like to cross dress. This island has a long history of that going on here. It’s a mecca for gays. I have some childhood friends who are in that community.”
“Would you look at this body? I couldn’t pass for a woman.”
“You could be a drag queen.”
“You’re insane! That gets out to the Teams, and I’m toast. I’d be the laughing stock of the whole Navy.”
“I’m not so sure of that. I just think you’re blinded by your male ego. You have to see everything. That’s what it’s like on Capri. Anything goes. The more flamboyant the better. Artists,writers, people escaping the realities of the common for the magical and uncommon.”
He closed his eyes until he felt her hands on him again.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop? Give me a chance to think, will you?”
She did. He opened his eyes, and she was smiling at him. “Do you trust me?” Her voice was timid, sweet, purring. She was trying to convince him.
“Fuck it. So what do I have to do?”
“We have to visit some of my friends. They run a cabaret, a veryspecialcabaret.”
Oh Geez. What have I done?
There was atunnel system on the island, created through the centuries and very easy to get lost in. They’d had children over the centuries go into them and never come out. It had hid pirates, mercenaries hiding from kings and queens, governments, ships, and mafia.
She knew them like the back of her hand.
“How is this possible? When did you have the time to learn about them?” he asked as he ducked to avoid hitting a large rock the size of his head stubbornly embedded in the dug-out and plastered over wall. Parts of the tunnel were lit with candles, where scorch marks were centuries old, candlewax had built up for more than four inches on the floor. Some had extension cords that wound under or through small holes drilled in the walls, plugging into some unknown source. He wondered how come he’d never heard about them.
“My mother grew up here. She used to bring us every summer for years. We grew up playing in them. She showed us a few of her favorite hiding places, and we found dozens more. It was such an idyllic childhood for us. We had no idea about what the world or life here was really like. It was just a fantasticplayground of unbelievable vistas, characters from all over the world, and secret places made just for us. It certainly was far more exciting than what our friends were doing at home in California, hanging out in malls.”
It was fascinating to Dimitri.
“Are there any maps?” he asked.
“Not sure. I suppose some people have made them, but more than likely, nothing official, and it would take years to map them all out. New ones are being created all the time. And with the remodeling and building going on, tunnels are constantly discovered or damaged and re-routed. It sometimes causes great drama and family friction as each one claims to have their own territory. It’s useless. It’s like trying to regulate the post here.”
“Excuse me?”
