Sarah stayed with the Dyers while the others went back to the ship. Mr. Dyer was gone most of the day to his shipping company and Mrs. Dyer always seemed to be off visiting someone. The butler (whose name she learned was Hawthorne) was decent company but it soon became clear that casual conversation was not in his job description. So when Dave called and said that he and Heather were escorting her to start the process of obtaining a visa, she found herself eager to go. This time Hawthorne drove them.

"This is better than a bus." Dave stated as he stretched out in the backseat. "So Heather, how much are we going to charge her for the trip here?"

"How about as much as we did the first time but with a ten percent discount for being a return customer?"

"Sounds good to me!" Dave looked over to Sarah, who was sitting as close to the door as she could. "Please tell me you aren't carrying all that money on you."

"Of course not! I'm not that ignorant!" Her reply was a bit louder than necessary so she took it back down. "Mr. Dyer locked it in his safe. I still have to get the currency exchanged too."

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to patronize you." Dave adjusted his positioning once he realized that she didn't have much room. "And you can relax a bit. It's just paperwork."

Paperwork always made her nervous. She was always afraid of messing up somehow and getting accused of fraud. Though in this case, it was more than a paranoid thought. After all. leaving a country without going through customs was illegal, though she wasn't sure what the charge would be called. Surely they would understand the circumstances.”

"We're going to the Liban embassy, right?"

"Right. We can't go in there with you." Heather was looking through some papers. "After you come out, we'll go to the right ministry and settle this. Now how long this will all take, I'm not sure. But the Colonel didn't give us a very long time and he knows it."

Hawthorne came to a stop and glanced out the window. "It might take the miss a long while. Just look at that line."

Sarah's heart sank. The line went out the embassy's front doors and then all over the lawn. There was barely any room to get in the gates. Could they get through all those people before the embassy closed down for the day? Granted, that was still several hours away but it was still a worry. Bureaucracy was never fast.

"Maybe it's not as bad as it looks." Dave reached across and opened the door for her. "But you won't know until you get in line, right? We'll be waiting for you when you get finished." He looked at the line. "Probably. If it gets too late, we'll send some fish and chips to you. Just ask people to pass it down the line."

"There wouldn't be any more left by the time it got down the line. Well, probably not any chips. People wouldn't take the fish." The mental picture was quite amusing to Sarah. "You don't have to wait around. There's a phone nearby, I can just call the port or the Dyers. I have the phone numbers in my pocket and plenty of change."

Dave and Heather considered it for a moment before they both nodded.

"Right, let us know when you're done." Heather said as Dave started to shut the door. "But don't wander off. Stay near the embassy. You don't know the area well enough to navigate it by yourself yet."

"I won't." She had no interest in running into any more ruffians like they had a couple of days back. "You go and get your business taken care of and don't worry about me. If there's one thing I know I can handle, it's lines and paperwork. Nothing dangerous about those things."

Once Sarah got in line, Hawthorne drove off. The line didn't move for a few minutes and she became curious about what everyone was here for. She was sure that some of them might be getting emergency work visas like her, but several of the people looked like they were already employed, thus already had their visa. She tapped the shoulder of the lady in front of her.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but what is the line for?"

"Oh, you haven't heard about what the Syrealians are doing?" The woman questioned.

"About declaring the visas no longer valid in Paradis? Yes, I have." But she was having trouble imagining that there had been that many Libans in Paradis.

"I haven't heard about that, but that is troubling indeed." The woman sighed and put a hand to her heart. "The Syrealians claim that we're shipping weapons to the Alemen League and rebels in Syreal in an attempt to undermine their authority so they're threatening to blockade all routes to Liba, both air and sea. Clearly not everyone is going to be out by then so they're seeking shelter here or looking into extending their visas."

How had she not heard about this? One of the Dyers would've told her if they read it in the newspaper or heard it on the radio.

"And where did you hear this?"

"Word of mouth. The embassy hasn't released a statement, but they're probably trying not to cause a panic."

Well, it seemed a bit much to jump to the embassy because of an unconfirmed rumor, but then she had left Paradis because of a rumor. A rumor from a trusted source, but a rumor nonetheless. The ambassador was no doubt in a bit of a tizzy over it and there was no telling if the government back home knew about it.

A while passed and the line finally moved forward. Sarah pulled out her little notebook and started looking over some notes about Paradisian she wrote down. She wouldn't be able to do the verbal part but she could at least start trying to get these tenses down while she wasn't doing much else. It also took her mind off the rumor.

Sarah wasn't sure how long it took her to reach the door, but she could tell that the sun had moved position since she got there. A beleaguered staff member flipped a page in her little book and held a pen to it. Sarah tried to give her a reassuring smile, but if the other noticed, she didn't respond to it.

"What are you here for?" she asked in a tone that showed she had asked the questions several times already. "If you want out of Aboloan, I am sorry to say that all the ships are currently full and you'll have to come back tomorrow to see if we can put you on one."

"Actually Ma'am, I'm here about getting an emergency visa. You see in Paradis we..."

"Hold on a minute." The staff member went back a few pages in her book. "Would you be Sarah Hidalgo?"

"Yes, that'd be me."

Sarah pulled out her passport and showed it to her. The staff member looked over it before returning it.

"You can get in that line over there." She indicated a line forming off to the right. "You'll be helped in a couple of hours at the most. Though if you had told the guards at the gate that you had an appointment, you wouldn't have had to wait in this line."

"I wasn't aware that I had an appointment of any sort...General Sherman just told me to come here today and try to get things straightened out."

"That would explain things. I don't think he's aware that when he makes a call like that, people tend to take that as him wanting a favor." She closed her book. "So go ahead and take your place in that line. If you need anything, let someone know."

The other line was indeed shorter, but it wasn't moving any faster. At least there were some chairs to sit in while they waited. Sarah went back to studying her little notebook. If she had thought about it, she would've brought a book to read. But she hadn't really considered how long something like this would take. She got so absorbed in her notes that she didn't realize it was her turn until someone tapped her on the shoulder. It startled her and caused her to jump. The aide took a step back.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hidalgo. I didn't mean to startle you like that." He offered his hand in apology. "Mr. Finch is ready to see you now."

She shook the hand of the aide to show that she accepted his apology. It wasn't really his fault. She just had a tendency to get absorbed into whatever she was reading. Then he kindly opened the door for her and let her in.

Sarah was pretty sure that this wasn't the ambassador's office, but it was still nice. Certainly neater thnt Yager's office had been, though that wasn't all that much of an accomplishment. Mr. Finch was signing something and didn't lift his head to acknowledge her.

"Take a seat and I'll be with you in a second. Would you like anything, a drink or a smoke?"

"No to either, sir." She wasn't thirsty and she didn't smoke. Not many people her age did, at least not in Liba. Probably because it made your breath stink and it was hard to woo people with stinky breath. "I just want this all settled. Especially if the rumors I've been hearing are true..."

His pen came to a stop. Apparently, he had heard them too. "These rumors, have you told anyone?"

"No, someone told it to me in line. Can't say whether they're reliable or not since I don't know the source. I only left Paradis because the information came from a source someone I trusted trusted."

"Then I would appreciate it if you don't spread it around. We don't need a panic."

That didn't bode well. It would take a lot of resources for Syreal to block all the routes, but if anyone could pull it off, it was them. Mr. Finch finished up his work and turned his attention to her. His nose looked like a beak and he had little beady eyes.

"Hidalgo, right?" He asked as he pulled a file from the pile. "Got yourself and a cargo crew in a bit of situation with the Syrealian security force in Paradis. Now you're looking to fix it so they don't go broke by getting banned from there. Does that sum things up?" All she could do was nod. He said everything perfectly. "May I see your papers? Let's see what the Paradisians had down for you."

Sarah handed them over. He looked over them, nodding once and awhile. "Well at the very least, you could qualify as a radio operator, knowing so many languages. You'll catch onto the lingo real quick." He passed back the papers and got out something to write on. "Here's what you'll do. You'll go the Ministry of Immigration, follow the signs to the place where visas are assigned, and hand it to the lady at the desk. She'll tell you what steps to take next. Any questions?"

"No sir." Sarah hadn’t expected this to go fast, giving how long everything else seemed to be taking. No telling how long the Ministry would take. "Is that really all?"

"No, but it's the first step. Now I suggest you get over there as quickly as possible." Mr. Finch finished up the note and handed it to her. "I'll see you later, no doubt. Stay safe out there. And remember, don't gossip."

That really wasn't a problem. One had to be social in order to gossip and it wasn't in Sarah's nature. Though that often didn't prevent anyone from telling her the latest rumors. Sometimes, people just started talking to her when she hadn't even started a conversation. Her father had always said that people could tell that she was a listener.

"Yes sir." She put the paper in the pocket with her other papers. "Thank you so much for your help!"

"Don't thank me. I'm just doing my job."

Sarah made her exit. Once she managed to leave the embassy, she found the payphone on the corner. She pulled out the change and called the Dyers’ house. Surely there would be someone there to pass along word. Hawthorne answered the phone and she relayed the information.

"All right, Mistress Sarah, I will be over there tute suite with Master David and Mistress Heather. It should not take us too long." The butler assured her.

Once the conversation finished, she hung up the receiver. As she opened the door to the booth, it hit someone, a rather large someone. He was even larger than Ash, taller too. He grunted a bit.

"Sorry sir, I didn't mean to swing the door into you." Sarah managed to squeeze herself out once he moved over a bit.

"Think nothing of it." He replied, his voice a deep baritone. Thanks to his coat and hat, not many of his features were visible. "Happens all the time." He started to go into the booth. "Do you have any spare change? I only have cash on me."

"I don't have very much so you can't have a very long conversation." Sarah fished the change out of her pocket. She wasn't going to use it for anything else. "Here you go. I hope it helps." She put it in his large hand.

"Thank you very much. There's something to be said about someone who's willing to be kind to strangers, especially when they're not from around here themselves." Suddenly, he closed his fist around her hand and pulled her into the phone booth. He shut the door and put a hand over her mouth. "Now before you start thrashing, just be aware that you're in a very small space and you might hurt yourself. You don't want that, do you? Besides, it looks like you've already got a wound yourself." He indicated the bandage that covered up her burn that hadn’t quite faded enough for her taste. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

Not seeing that she had much of a choice, she shook her head. How did she keep ending up in these situations? And it was far enough from the embassy that the guards would probably take awhile to even glance this way.

"Good. I do hate to repeat myself. Now, I need you to do me a favor. You've recently come from the embassy, which means you no doubt left with an official document of some kind. You will kindly hand that over to me. Or show me where it is and I will get it."

With her free hand, Sarah patted her coat. The man seemed to get the message and put a little space in between them so she could do what she needed to in order to retrieve it. He had to let go of her hand in order to grab it, but he kept her in place with an arm barred across her collarbone. He looked over it and sighed.

"They're getting smarter. They've gone and changed forms on us." He stuffed the paper back into her coat. "All right, Sarah, it looks like the favor is going to have to be delayed a bit." He removed his arm and smoothed out her coat. "I hate to get more people involved,but it looks like it may be necessary. So whenever whoever you called comes here, just tell them I'm an escort from the embassy. They should buy that."

Sarah doubted it. Hawthorne wasn't going to allow some stranger into the car, especially without any ID. Then there was Heather and Dave. They weren't easy to trick either. The man opened the door and she fell back, no expecting it. He held out his hand to help her up. She didn't take it.

"Suit yourself." He stated as she got up. "And don't think about running or screaming. Just remember that I'm a lot closer to you than anyone who can help you."

"Can you give me your name, sir?" He knew hers so it was only fair. Granted, he probably read it on the letter, so technically he cheated.

"Hm, a regular Lady Abigail. My name's not important, at least not right now. Let's just focus on getting the task at hand done." He faced the road. "So what made you go to Paradis in the first place? You seem a bit young to be seeking a job there."

Sarah decided to keep her mouth shut. This man wasn't privy to that sort of information, especially after how rudely he had treated her. At least Captain Yager had pretended to be a gentleman.

"No need to be so tense." A giant hand lay on her shoulder. "I am merely trying to make polite conversation while we wait for our ride. But if you don't feel like it, then so be it. There will be plenty of time for small talk later. Perhaps the others will be more cooperative."

So there she stood, frozen under his hand until the car came around the corner. His hand came off her shoulder before it came to a stop. Heather opened her window a bit.

"Hey Sarah, who's that with you?" She questioned.

"I am an escort from the embassy. I am to make sure that she arrives safely to the ministry."

"Then let's see some ID. And keep it open for more than a few seconds. I want to get a good look at it."

The man nodded and opened his coat, showing a gun in the pocket. "Is that satisfactory, Ms. Dyer?" He paused. "No, I'm sorry. It's Mrs. Letterman now. You've been married to Mr. Ashton Letterman for nearly two years."

Heather let out a frustrated sigh. "Get in. But it's going to be a tight squeeze. And just remember, that you're outnumbered even with your gun."

Dave scooted to the opposite side of the car after he opened his door. The man got in and dragged Sarah in after him.

"Take us to the Ministry of Immigration." He ordered once Sarah got the door shut. "But don't hurry too much. We wouldn't want you to get a speeding ticket."

The car was silent as Hawthorne drove on. All the tension could be blamed on the man sitting in between Dave and Sarah. Hawthorne's eyes often drifted back to him via the mirror.

"It's been a while, hasn't it Hawthorne?" The man chuckled at his glare. "Though I think you should keep your eyes on the road."

"Isn't it against a gentleman's code of conduct to threaten a lady? I thought you fancied yourself a gentleman." Dave didn't bother hiding his displeased tone.

"I didn't hurt her, did I? I'll admit that our introduction was a bit rough, but I had to act quickly while she was alone. I doubt you would've ever let me get near her otherwise."

Sarah, tired of being out of the loop, decided to speak up. "What's going on? Who is this man and how do you know him?"

"Ah yes, I did promise you an introduction." He removed his hat, revealing a head of neatly groomed white air. But the color of his hair didn't match the age of his face. He couldn't have been older than forty, which would make him younger than Mr. Dyer. "I am who they call the Thespian, actor extraordinaire, gentleman outside of my roles, and some may call me a crime boss. I prefer the term “Facilitator of Felony”. It sounds so much grander.”