Abdul shrugged. He didn't want to argue with this young American whose friendship he had gone out of his way to cultivate. "Perhaps you are right. Roy. Come. I'll walk you to the bus stop."
They stood in the lighted area of the bus stop until Roy had boarded, and then Abdul strode off into the darkness. Presently he heard footsteps behind him. He stopped. "Is that you. Mahmoud?" he asked in Arabic. "I thought I saw you behind us earlier. Are you spying on me?"
The other fell in beside him. "I was not spying. Who you want to be friends with is your business so long as the rest of us don't get involved."
"I know what I'm doing." said Abdul shortly.
"All right. I won't argue with you, but if you think you are fooling the Jews by being friendly with one of them—"
"Let me tell you something. Mahmoud. We are all watched because the Israelis know that we will do anything to defeat them. But they hope that by treating us kindly, by encouraging us to attend the university, for example, some of us will be placated and resigned to the idea that they are in control and likely to remain for some time. Now." he said to his friend, "which will they watch more closely, the ones who are resigned or the ones who remain stubborn? And remember, they want so much to believe that they have won some of us over." He smiled in the darkness. "So I help them a little. Roy is young and not very bright, but he is good camouflage. Now if you were not following me to spy on me—"
"I have some news I wanted to tell you."
"Yes?"
"We heard from Jaffa. There has been a shake-up in the Shin Bet, and Adoumi has been transferred to Jerusalem. He's here now. He was seen."
"So?"
"So maybe we ought to go easy for a while and see what happens." the other said softly.
"How long has he been here?"
"Who knows? Perhaps months."
They walked in silence, and then Abdul said. "After all. what difference does it make?"
"Plenty. If he's in charge here, then we'll soon see the same harsh methods that were used in Jaffa and Tel Aviv."
"No." said Abdul. "That kind of thing can't be done here in Jerusalem. There are too many people from too many parts of the world—"
"There are even more in Tel Aviv."
"But they are all businessmen there." Abdul pointed out. "interested only in their big financial deals. Here, in Jerusalem, it is the religious and the learned and the scientific people and the diplomats and the writers and journalists, the people that the Jews try so hard to persuade of their liberalism and democracy. It is here that you have the large Christian community with their ties to Europe and America. And it's a smaller town where everything that happens is immediately known, and cannot be concealed. Believe me, the methods he used in Tel Aviv and Jaffa— rounding up hundreds of our people and holding them for questioning for days— he won't be able to get away with it so easy here. Besides, if he's been transferred, he will probably be here for some time. Does that mean that we do nothing and just wait for the next shake-up when someone else is sent in? Are we to be made women by the reputation of one man? I for one am prepared to go ahead. Get word to the Swiss. Have him prepare the gadget. I'm ready to go ahead with the original plan."
"And the rest of us?"
Abdul smiled. "Proceed as we arranged, or better, get yourself a friendly Jew and arrange to be with him when it happens."
Chapter Eleven
Jonathan, whether he was racing up and down the length of the El Al lounge or just standing in front of an elderly woman gravely watching her transfer items from one bag to another, was obviously enjoying the experience. Having flown from Boston's Logan Airport to New York's Kennedy, he considered himself a seasoned traveler.
Miriam, on whose shoulders the management and logistics of the expedition devolved, had worried and fretted, had made out lists— lists of things to be done, of things to be taken, of things to be remembered. Now at the airport, she realized it was too late to rectify any errors and was determined to relax and enjoy the trip. She sat quietly sipping coffee out of a paper cup, surrounded by the coats and bags that constituted their hand luggage. Curiously she was unconcerned about Jonathan's moment-to-moment whereabouts since all the people in the lounge waiting for the evening flight seemed strangely familiar almost as though it were a family gathering where others would keep an eye on him and see to it that he did not get into serious trouble. This effect of familiarity was heightened by an occasional nudge from her husband with an urging to "Look at that couple next to the counter.
Doesn't he look just like Mark Rosenstein?"
Of the three, the rabbi alone showed impatience. The sooner they were aboard the plane, the sooner they would get to their destination, and he could not wait. He looked at his watch repeatedly and then would get up from his seat beside Miriam and stride up and down the lounge in an effort to make the time pass more quickly. When he came to the window, he stopped to look out anxiously at the driving snowstorm outside, fearful that it might prevent the plane from taking off and yet buoyed up by the thought that it had been no different at Logan and they had had no delay in takeoff there.
At last came the announcement over the loudspeaker, like all the announcements first in Hebrew and then in English, that the plane was ready for boarding. Along with everyone else in the room, they hastily gathered their belongings and. with Jonathan securely in hand, hurried to join the line. They opened their handbags for inspection, and then the line divided into two, one for men and the other for women.
Each person was halted in a curtained cubicle where they were checked electronically for concealed metal and then manually frisked. The rabbi had seen the maneuver on television crime movies but had never been subjected to it himself. Jonathan began to whimper since he associated the frisking with an examination by a doctor which usually ended in something unpleasant like the jab of a needle, but his father reassured him. "See. it's nothing, Jonathan, nothing at all." When Miriam rejoined them, he said, "We were searched quite thoroughly, even intimately. How about you?"
She nodded. "The same, I expect. It's nice to know they're taking all possible precautions."
Although all had been assigned specific seats in the plane, there was nevertheless considerable pushing and shoving. "Why do they do it?" Miriam wailed as the crowd of passengers struggled along the aisle of the plane. "Don't they know we're not going to start until everyone is settled?"
The rabbi looked about at his fellow passengers. "I suppose for a number of them this is their first time in a plane. Or maybe they don't really believe that there is a seat for everyone. We've always been skeptics, I guess."
They had had only a light lunch and were now quite hungry. Fortunately, the stewards and stewardesses began to serve almost as soon as they were airborne. Here and there a passenger was skipped. The man sitting across the aisle from the rabbi pointed it out to one of the stewards. "Look, that man didn't get a tray."
"I know, I know," said the steward. "Are you his lawyer?" He hurried on down the aisle.
The man leaned over and confided to the rabbi. "Fresh. These young Israelis they're fresh— no respect."
The explanation for those who had been passed over was not long in coming. As soon as the stewards had finished with the trays, they began distributing flat cardboard boxes marked "Strictly Kosher."
"Aha. so why couldn't he say so?" the man demanded. "And isn't our dinner kosher? They told me that on El Al all meals were strictly kosher."