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She frowned. “What paperwork? I passed what I had to the vizier’s office. He said he’d organize it for me. That it would be quicker that way.”
He looked with surprise at her over his glasses. “It might have been quicker if we’d received some other proof of identity. We have several options. People usually use a driver’s licence if they have that, or one of the other valid forms. Traditionally, of course, we prefer a birth certificate and Sheikh Nabil informed me that that would be what you’d be providing.”
“He did? That’s the first I’ve heard. I can’t even rememberseeinga birth certificate. My grandfather organized my first passport and had it renewed for me ever since. But you say a driver’s licence will also work?”
“Of course, Miss Albright.” It was the consul’s turn to frown. “I recall Sheikh Nabil saying that there was no hurry, so we set it aside until the birth certificate turned up. Do you have the driver’s licence on you now?”
“Yes.” She rummaged in the bag she’d borrowed—like her clothes—from Kadar’s mother, found it immediately, and handed it to him.
“Yes, this will be fine.” He stood up. “Excuse me a moment and I’ll expedite matters. You’re welcome to wait and we should have it for you in a jiffy.”
The wave of relief swept away the anger, exposing the hard core of grief at Kadar’s betrayal. She’d thought they’d come closer and had genuine feelings for each other. Above everything else, she believed she could truly trust him. And he’d betrayed that trust in the vilest way possible. He’d used her. Her grandfather had been right to stay away from this country, where people said one thing and believed another. Where sons were like their fathers, no matter how much they denied it.
When the consul returned to the room, she was pacing the floor, desperately trying to stem the pressure of tears which were building. She refused to give way to it, not in public. And she needed to sort this out before taking the first step in her plan to escape.
But her heart sank when the consul returned to his office. His face was sombre and his frown was not promising.
“Please,” he said, with a formality which hadn’t been in his manner before, “take a seat.”
He sat opposite and cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Er, Miss Albright, I’m sorry, but something has cropped up and, while we can issue you with a new passport, there’s no point. Just yet.”
“What? What are you talking about? What do you mean?”
“There won’t be any point because your passport won’t be sufficient.”
“Sufficient to do what? Surely a passport means I can travel and leave Sirun when I wish?”
He inclined his head. “Unfortunately, in exceptional circumstances—and these have been classed as that—a visa is required. Without this special class of visa, there’s a possibility you could be arrested as soon as you set foot outside the consulate. It’s only the letter which the king has given you temporarily which prevents this from happening. As soon asyour passport is issued, the letter is null and void—your protection gone.”
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. She blinked and shook her head. “Arrested? How could I be? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He looked serious. Far too serious.
She cocked her head to one side. “Have I?” She was beginning to doubt herself.
He sighed and pursed his lips. “Only you can answer that.”
She leaned forward, a wave of nausea bringing her out in a clammy sweat. “Of course I haven’t.” What had Kadar done? What had his vizier done? And why? “Why would you even ask that?”
“Well, as part of our agreement with the government of Sirun, anyone who is a ‘person of interest’ to the government requires a specific type of visa. And gaining that visa is far more complex than simply issuing a passport. In most cases, it’s merely a formality, but it is a formality which we must adhere to.”
“So… you’re saying I’m a person of interest to the government?”
“That is correct.”
“And that usually means the person is some kind of political risk? Maybe has a criminal record of some kind?” She was doing her best to keep her voice level, the anger and rising fears suppressed.
He nodded. “Indeed.”
“Then,” she said, rising slowly and gripping the sides of the desk, staring across the computer at him, “why on earth should I be a person of interest to this country?”
He looked more and more uncomfortable. “That is indeed a question I asked.”
“And the answer you received?” she prompted when it was clear he didn’t know how to proceed.
“That you… and His Highness, Sheikh Kadar al-Hadar, have,” he shrugged, “some kind of liaison which means you come under a specific clause which requires security checks at the highest level. It seems, Miss Albright, that your movements are of importance to the government.”
