Read Online The Aden Effect by Claude G. Berube - Free Book Online
Authors: Claude G. Berube
Ads: Link
the Middle East.
The uniform appeared new. The material was not faded from repeated launderings, and the boots had no scratches or marks. Though fit looking, he was thick-bodied, the kind of thickness not uncommon in former athletes. All the signs added up to a man who had not been in the military for some time, which likely meant he was a reservist recalled to active duty. Judging by the scowl, he was none too pleased about it.
An airmanâs voice boomed over the loudspeaker: âAll personnel en route to Bahrain, proceed immediately to the boarding area.â Golzariâs subject pickedup a fully packed, new green seabag and winced as he placed his weight on his right knee. Golzariâs lips twisted in disdain. He had little love for members of the military who seemed so patently unsatisfied with their assignment, particularly reservists who clearly didnât want to be recalled.
Their eyes met again as the Navy commander passed within armâs reach of Golzari on the way to the boarding area. Under other circumstances, Golzari thought, the man might have been an adversary, someone encountered in a cheap Third World bar, perhaps, where a few drinks and a misspoken word would devolve into an altercation. But Golzari was not one to frequent cheap bars.
Stark sized up the elitist fed as he passed by on his way toward the plane and thought that he might have enjoyed kicking the manâs ass if they had ever met in one of the many bars he had frequented over the years. But he couldnât imagine the fussily dressed fed walking into a real bar.
U.S. Embassy, Sanaâa, 1237 (GMT)
Stark had spent the past few days trying to figure out why he had been recalled. Certainly his work for Bill Maddoxâs firm had given him some knowledge of Yemen, but there were plenty of active-duty people qualified to serve as defense attachés, and he was pretty sure none of them had ever been court-martialed. Besides, attachés were among the militaryâs elite, subject to months of training in their assigned countryâs politics, geography, and language, and of course the diplomatic niceties of the job.
Most of the articles that had caught his eye dealt with the deteriorating situations in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and North Korea. His understanding might be at a basic level, but Stark could see that Americaâs focus on the wars and potential wars in the Middle East was having both domestic and international ramifications. Among other things, it had left the rest of the world open to the influence of other countries. Particularly alarming was an article in The Economist describing the economic and military aid packages that China had negotiated throughout Africa and Central and South America. It seemed to him that the United States was on the verge of losing its status as the worldâs only superpower.
A young assistant regional security officer met Stark at Sanaâa International Airport and drove him back to the embassy in an armored SUV. Both men were silent for most of the drive. Chitchat seemed inappropriate in an area where the activity on a calm street corner could quickly escalate into a terrorist incident. The city hadnât changed much in the year or so since heâd last been here. But aside from the cars and the neon-lit storefronts, he doubted that much had changed in a thousand years. Taxis sped by erratically, much as in any major American city. The heat from the mid-afternoon sun had tempered much activity. Most of the men he saw on the sidewalks were busy chewing khat, further reducing any productivity. He remembered fewer people idling in the afternoons, perhaps a sign that unemployment was up yet again. Every time the vehicle stopped at a traffic light, a few men paused in their conversation and eyed it warily. He wondered if they watched him out of curiosity or as a potential foreign target.
After the driver dropped him off at the entrance to the embassy, Stark checked in
The uniform appeared new. The material was not faded from repeated launderings, and the boots had no scratches or marks. Though fit looking, he was thick-bodied, the kind of thickness not uncommon in former athletes. All the signs added up to a man who had not been in the military for some time, which likely meant he was a reservist recalled to active duty. Judging by the scowl, he was none too pleased about it.
An airmanâs voice boomed over the loudspeaker: âAll personnel en route to Bahrain, proceed immediately to the boarding area.â Golzariâs subject pickedup a fully packed, new green seabag and winced as he placed his weight on his right knee. Golzariâs lips twisted in disdain. He had little love for members of the military who seemed so patently unsatisfied with their assignment, particularly reservists who clearly didnât want to be recalled.
Their eyes met again as the Navy commander passed within armâs reach of Golzari on the way to the boarding area. Under other circumstances, Golzari thought, the man might have been an adversary, someone encountered in a cheap Third World bar, perhaps, where a few drinks and a misspoken word would devolve into an altercation. But Golzari was not one to frequent cheap bars.
Stark sized up the elitist fed as he passed by on his way toward the plane and thought that he might have enjoyed kicking the manâs ass if they had ever met in one of the many bars he had frequented over the years. But he couldnât imagine the fussily dressed fed walking into a real bar.
U.S. Embassy, Sanaâa, 1237 (GMT)
Stark had spent the past few days trying to figure out why he had been recalled. Certainly his work for Bill Maddoxâs firm had given him some knowledge of Yemen, but there were plenty of active-duty people qualified to serve as defense attachés, and he was pretty sure none of them had ever been court-martialed. Besides, attachés were among the militaryâs elite, subject to months of training in their assigned countryâs politics, geography, and language, and of course the diplomatic niceties of the job.
Most of the articles that had caught his eye dealt with the deteriorating situations in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and North Korea. His understanding might be at a basic level, but Stark could see that Americaâs focus on the wars and potential wars in the Middle East was having both domestic and international ramifications. Among other things, it had left the rest of the world open to the influence of other countries. Particularly alarming was an article in The Economist describing the economic and military aid packages that China had negotiated throughout Africa and Central and South America. It seemed to him that the United States was on the verge of losing its status as the worldâs only superpower.
A young assistant regional security officer met Stark at Sanaâa International Airport and drove him back to the embassy in an armored SUV. Both men were silent for most of the drive. Chitchat seemed inappropriate in an area where the activity on a calm street corner could quickly escalate into a terrorist incident. The city hadnât changed much in the year or so since heâd last been here. But aside from the cars and the neon-lit storefronts, he doubted that much had changed in a thousand years. Taxis sped by erratically, much as in any major American city. The heat from the mid-afternoon sun had tempered much activity. Most of the men he saw on the sidewalks were busy chewing khat, further reducing any productivity. He remembered fewer people idling in the afternoons, perhaps a sign that unemployment was up yet again. Every time the vehicle stopped at a traffic light, a few men paused in their conversation and eyed it warily. He wondered if they watched him out of curiosity or as a potential foreign target.
After the driver dropped him off at the entrance to the embassy, Stark checked in
Similar Books
