Read Online The Aden Effect by Claude G. Berube - Free Book Online Page B

from a court-martial,” he said, finally turning to face her.
    â€œYou did what you felt you had to do, and what you had said you would do. I did what I could to help. It wasn’t up to me, Connor. There were other issues, much bigger ones than you or me.”
    â€œWhatever.” Connor shook his head. “Why am I here?” he repeated.
    â€œPirates. The same ones you dealt with until you left last year. The situation’s gotten worse in the Gulf of Aden. At this point, the pirates are hitting any ship they want. We have no military support in the region—practically everything has been redirected to the Persian Gulf or the western Pacific. I’m here to get the Yemeni Navy to agree to secure and stabilize the region, including the oil platforms off Socotra. Bill just doesn’t have enough assets to do it on his own.”
    â€œSo, get your agreement. What’s the problem with the Yemenis?”
    â€œThey’re stalling. They have all these boats we gave them a few years ago, but they won’t put to sea. We don’t know why. And we don’t have anyone they’ll work with. Someone with a real working relationship with them . . .”
    â€œ . . . which I had when I worked for Bill.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhich is why I’m here.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd you think I’ll help you after all that’s happened?”
    She shook her head sadly. “No. I don’t, really.” For a moment she allowed her fatigue and frustration to show.
    Stark leaned forward in his chair and felt his shirt stick to his back; the office temperature was approaching that of the outside. “Then why?” he asked. “Why bring me here?”
    â€œI hoped.”
    â€œHope is overrated.”
    â€œNot when it’s the only option left to you,” she said.
    â€œWhen it’s the only option left, it’s called desperation, not hope.”
    â€œOkay, I’m desperate. Will you help?”
    â€œI haven’t yet heard a reason why I should.”
    â€œFor Bill?”
    â€œBill hasn’t asked me.”
    â€œHow about for your country?”
    â€œI think I did enough for my country when I was in uniform.”
    â€œYou’re in uniform now,” she reminded him.
    â€œThis time it’s not by choice.” Stark removed an envelope from his pocket, the same envelope he had gone to his boat to retrieve before the three Somalisattacked him in Ullapool, and held it up. “This is my general discharge. You want me to help? Change that to an honorable discharge.”
    â€œOk,” she said quietly.
    â€œYou don’t have that kind of power.”
    â€œNo? I got you recalled to duty and brought here, didn’t I?”
    â€œGood point,” he admitted. “Let’s assume I can do whatever you need me to do. What then?”
    â€œAs soon as I have what I want, you can go back to . . . wherever you want to go.”
    He thought about it for a moment. Until a few days ago he had finally been leading a life of peace and contentment, secure in the knowledge that he had disconnected from his past. And then three Somalis had tried to kill him. They had come to his adopted home, the home of his friends, Maggie’s home. Would that threat continue if he made the wrong decision now?
    â€œI’ll do this,” he said finally. “And if my record is cleared as a result, I’ll accept that. But let me be clear—very clear: I’m not doing this for you or your damned president.” Stark caught himself. He hadn’t been in uniform twenty-four hours and had already violated Article 88 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice—contempt toward officials, namely his commander-in-chief. Fortunately, C. J. was a diplomat and was probably ignorant of the UCMJ. Stark, however, had firsthand experience with it and had violated it in almost every way possible the last time he was in