Hellyer’s Line unfolds in Athens in the summer of 1974. It’s a hot and dangerous time as the ruling military junta collapses and Turkey invades neighbouring Cyprus. There is a spy in the British embassy and Nick Hellyer, working for British intelligence, is despatched to determine the traitor. Prowse lived in Athens at the time and the Greek capital is sharply drawn. British spies are not welcome and Hellyer, in his third outing, is soon in danger . . . and romantically entangled. FINANCIAL TIMES

This hugely enjoyable and distinctive series … blends the almost absurdist complexities required of the espionage genre with honed humour and meticulous historical research. The story sees Nick Hellyer sent to Athens to uncover a double agent at the British embassy. As ever, Nick’s official assignment turns out to be the least of his problems. The military junta is in its last weeks, Turkey is about to invade Cyprus, and it’s really not a great time to be British in Greece. On the streets many see British functionaries as merely junior Americans, and therefore legitimate targets, while some still remember Churchill’s wicked, blood-soaked betrayal of Greek democracy in 1944. MORNING STAR

Prologue
Athens, Saturday 16 November 1973
Chanting demonstrators raise fists on rooftops, hang out of windows waving outsize Greek flags and balance astride poster-draped gates and railings. What started as a student occupation of the Polytechneio has mushroomed into a massive popular protest against the ruling military junta. In the streets outside, thousands cry ‘Psomi! Paideia! Eleftheria!’ Bread! Education! Freedom! Demands that are scrawled on walls and pillars alongside anti-NATO and anti-American graffiti. An improvised radio station transmits news of the uprising to the people of Athens and the world beyond. Sporadic firing breaks out late in the evening after successive police charges fail to disperse the growing crowd. The shooting intensifies as the snap of individual shots becomes the clatter of volleys. Single shoes, burst handbags, torn jackets and twisted bodies lie abandoned. At three in the morning a tank smashes down the main gate and troops storm the campus, crushing the revolt. Police and soldiers have fired over 24,000 rounds, killing at least thirty-four demonstrators and wounding hundreds.
Aliki kneels beside her boyfriend. A single shot to the head. An aimed bullet, not a random round. In a blood-smeared skirt she clutches his hands to her heart. But tears refuse to fall.