Exodus - Leon Uris [27]
Mark looked from one to the other. They had only met, and yet they were already engaged in the verbal fencing and maneuvering he himself so often played. Obviously Ben Canaan had struck either a sweet or a sour chord in Kitty, Mark thought, because she had her claws bared.
“Strange that it wouldn’t strike you as logical,” Ari was answering. “God thought Hebrew was so logical he had the Bible written in that language.”
Kitty smiled and nodded. The orchestra changed to a fox trot. “Dance, Mrs. Fremont?”
Mark leaned back and watched Ben Canaan walk Kitty onto the floor, hold her, and lead her about with smooth gliding grace. For the moment Mark didn’t like the spark that had obviously struck the second they met: it was hard to think of Kitty as a mere mortal playing mortals’ games. They danced close to his table. There seemed to be a dazed look on Kitty’s face and it was unnatural.
Then Mark began thinking of himself. He had had the feeling that something was brewing on Cyprus from the moment he landed. Now it was confirmed by Ben Canaan’s appearance. He knew enough of the Palestinian to realize he was one of the top Mossad Aliyah Bet agents. He also knew that he was going to be approached for something, because Ben Canaan had sought him out. What about Kitty? Did he know of her only because she was with him or was there another reason?
Kitty was a tall girl but she felt lost in Ari Ben Canaan’s arms. A strange sensation swept over her. The appearance of this strapping, handsome man had thrown her off guard. Now, in his arms only a moment after their meeting, she felt—unraveled. The sensation was attractive—it had been many, many years. But she felt rather foolish at the same time.
The music stopped and they returned to the table.
“I didn’t think you Palestinians danced anything but a hora,” Mark said.
“I’ve been exposed to too much of your culture,” Ari answered.
His sandwiches arrived and he ate hungrily. Mark waited patiently for him to reveal the nature of his visit. He looked at Kitty carefully. She seemed to be regaining her composure, although she glanced at Ari from the corner of her eye as though she were wary and ready to strike.
At last Ari finished eating and said casually, “I have something I want to talk over with both of you.”
“Here, in the middle of the British Army?”
Ari smiled. He turned to Kitty. “Parker didn’t have a chance to tell you, Mrs. Fremont, that my employment is considered sub rosa in some quarters. Every so often the British even glorify us by calling us ‘underground.’ One of the first things I try to impress a new member of our organization with is the danger of making secret midnight rendezvous. I’d say there isn’t a better place in the world to discuss this.”
“Let’s move the party up to my room,” Mark said.
As soon as they had closed the door behind them Ari got right to the point. “Parker, you and I are in a position to do each other a good turn.”
“Go on.”
“Are you familiar with the detention camps at Caraolos?”
Both Mark and Kitty nodded.
“I have just completed plans for three hundred children to make an escape. We are going to bring them over here and load them aboard a ship in the Kyrenia harbor.”
“You boys have been smuggling refugees into Palestine for years. That isn’t news any more, Ben Canaan.”
“It will be news if you help make it news. You remember the commotion over our illegal ship, the Promised Land?”
“Sure.”
“The British looked pretty bad then. We feel that if we can create another incident as important as the Promised Land we stand a chance of breaking their immigration policy on Palestine.”
“You just lost me,” Mark said. “If you can pull a mass escape from Caraolos how are you going to get them to Palestine? If they do escape then where is the story?”
“That’s the point,” Ari said. “They aren’t going any farther than boarding ship in Kyrenia. I have no intention of making a run for Palestine.”
Mark leaned forward. He was interested, and there was obviously more to Ben Canaan’s plan than first appeared.
“Let’s say,” Ari said, “that I get three hundred