34
Palestine 1947
Later that morning, Avi, Irit, Jake, Eli and myself lingered over coffee. From outside came the sound of squealing brakes, doors slamming and boots crunching sand and gravel. Danny popped his head in the doorway.
“They’re here,” he said. Avi nodded and took another sip from his mug. Danny’s head disappeared only to be replaced by that of Lieutenant Cartwright-Jones, who marched in, two armed soldiers holding carbines, at his side.
The tableau that confronted him consisted of a small group disturbed during their morning coffee break. We all turned and looked expectantly with mild expressions of surprise.
Cartwright-Jones put up his hand stopping their progress with precision. He looked at us for a long moment. “I have the authority to search these premises,” he said.
