Exodus - Leon Uris [94]
Mark nodded. He would send a cable asking for an extension of his vacation. Bradbury in London would know by the signature, Mark, that Operation Gideon had been a success and would turn loose the story Mark had sent with a commercial pilot a week earlier.
“Suppose I don’t get a phone call from Mandria at ten.”
Ari smiled. “Then I’d suggest you get the hell off Cyprus unless you want to cover my hanging.”
“That might be nice,” Mark said. He finished his drink.
“By the way,” Ari said, looking out to the water, “Kitty hasn’t been in the camp since we were forced to put Karen on the Exodus list.”
“That’s right. She’s with me at the Dome.”
“How is she?”
“How in hell do you think she is? She’s miserable. She doesn’t want Karen to go on the Exodus. Do you blame her?”
“I don’t blame her but I feel sorry for her.”
“That’s nice. I didn’t know you felt sorry for anyone.”
“I feel sorry that she has let her emotions get the best of her.”
“I forgot. You don’t know anything about human emotions.”
“You’re nervous, Mark.”
Mark was angry at Ari’s placidness. He remembered Kitty’s anguish when she returned to Kyrenia and told him that Karen was going on the ship. “What do you want? Kitty has suffered more than one person has a right to suffer.”
“Suffered?” Ari said. “I wonder if Kitty Fremont knows the meaning of the word.”
“Damn you, Ben Canaan, damn you. What makes you think that Jews own a copyright on suffering?”
“Fortunately you’re not being paid to like me and I couldn’t care less.”
“How could you? You see, I like people with human weaknesses.”
“I never have them during working hours.”
Mark stood up to leave. Ari grabbed Mark’s arm in his powerful hand. For the first time Mark saw Ben Canaan shaken from his complacency. There was anger in Ari’s eyes. “What the hell do you think this is? A tea party on the duchess’s lawn? We’re butting heads with the British Empire tomorrow.”
He released his grip on Mark’s arm and regretted the short display of temper. At that instant Mark felt a tiny bit sorry for Ari. Perhaps he had a better way of disguising it but the pressure was beginning to tell on him too.
A few hours later Mark had returned to the Dome Hotel in Kyrenia. He knocked on Kitty’s door. She managed to greet him with a half smile, but it could not disguise her red-rimmed eyes.
“Tomorrow.”
Kitty froze an instant. “So soon?”
“They are afraid the British are on to something.”
Kitty walked to the window and looked out at the pier and the island. It was a crystal-clear evening and she could even see the faint outline of the Turkish coast. “I’ve been trying to get up enough courage to pack up and leave Cyprus.”
“Look,” Mark said, “as soon as this blows over, you and I are going to head for the Riviera for a few weeks.”
“To pick up the pieces? I thought you were supposed to go to Palestine.”
“I doubt if the British will let me in after this. Kitty, I feel pretty rotten about dragging you into this thing.”
“It isn’t your fault, Mark.”
“You read that line well but it’s not quite true. Are you going to get over this?”
“Yes, I think so. I should have known better. You tried to warn me. At least I knew all the time that I was on thin ice. You know, Mark, it’s funny, but we argued the night I met Ben Canaan. I told you there was something different about Jews. They aren’t like us.”
“They have an unlimited capacity for getting into trouble. It’s their favorite sport,” Mark said, spinning off the bed and rubbing his temples. “Well ... one way or the other we might as well eat and I’m hungry.”
Kitty leaned against the doorframe as Mark splashed his face with cold water. He groped for a towel. She handed him one.
“Mark. It’s going to be very dangerous on the Exodus, isn’t it?”
He hesitated a moment. There was no use trying to fool her at this point. “It’s a floating bomb.”
Kitty’s heart sank. “Tell me the truth. Can they get away with this?”
“They have a fair chance with that mechanical monster, Ari Ben Canaan, running the show.”
The sun went down and it was night.
Mark and Kitty sat wordlessly in