Dynamite Fishermen Read Online Free PDF Page B

when ECWA moves its offices to Baghdad at the end of the year, your job moves with it. All I can say is try again in a year or two, when you’re more established.”
    “You mean when I’m married?” She nearly spat out the word.
    “That might help,” Harry replied without smiling.
    “And if I move to Baghdad when ECWA moves? Would that help?”
    “Possibly, depending on how long you stay there.”
    She heaved a forlorn sigh. “But, Harry,” she began in a sweet, wheedling voice, “I only want to visit America for one month. Just to have a nice holiday in New York, to see friends, to buy some pretty clothes, to have fun just once before I move to Baghdad. Why do you make it so difficult? Surely your government wants tourists to visit America and spend money, n’est-ce pas ? I can show you my bank account if you like.”
    “Come on, Layla. You’ve already got a French visa in your passport. If you want to shop, why not fly to Paris? You can buy anything you want there.”
    The young woman lowered her head, discouraged but not defeated. “What would convince you to give me a visa to America for one month?” she said. “Can you show me a list of qualifications I must have?”
    “There’s no checklist, Layla. Every applicant’s case is different. I look at a person’s passport, read his application, talk to him, and either he’s eligible or he’s not. I know qualifications when I see them.”
    “May I bring my qualifications to you?” She had a look of sweet mischief on her face. “Will you look at them and tell me whether I am eligible?”
    “By God, you are persistent,” Landers conceded at last with a genial laugh. “All right, bring your passport and your documents to my office Monday morning and I’ll have another look. But don’t get your hopes up. Reversals don’t happen very often.”
    “Monday! That is too late—I must leave no later than Friday. And I cannot spend another day away from my work to wait in the long lines at your consulate. Can’t I bring my passport to you here? I could come tomorrow evening.” Her look was seductive.
    Landers avoided looking at Prosser, who was struggling to contain a laugh. “Suit yourself,” Landers replied, feigning indifference. “If you don’t want to come to my office, drop by here tomorrow around eight.”
    As soon as the words left Landers’s lips, Layla raised herself onto her toes and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Thank you, Harry. I knew you would help me,” she blurted out, then hurried off to the living room. Her perfume hung in Prosser’s nostrils, reminding him of how skillfully she had danced, and for a moment he wished he were working under consular cover again.
    “Now you’ve done it, pal,” Prosser teased as soon as Layla was out of earshot. “If that isn’t a conflict of interest, I’m a monkey’s uncle.”
    “She’ll get a fair review. I’ll look her application over and give it to Steve. He’ll end up rejecting her on the same grounds that Jon did.” Landers made an effort to appear casual but failed.
    “Then what about tomorrow night? Are you going to let her do her number on you and then have Steve slip her the bad news the next day when she shows up at the consulate?”
    “Whatever she does tomorrow night won’t make a damned bit of difference. If she wants me to review her case, fine. If she wants to do a number on me—as you put it—by God, that’s fine by me, too. She’s a big girl, and she knows what she’s doing.”
    “That’s not the point, Harry. The point is that Layla thinks you’ll give her a visa if she sleeps with you.”
    “Look, it’s not my problem if she’s unrealistic. There isn’t an Arab in this entire country who’s above playing up to a consular officer to get an American visa. The only way for us to stay absolutely unsmudged in the face of all the attempts to butter us up would be to socialize only with other diplomats. Somehow, Con, I don’t think that’s what we