Free The Aden Effect by Claude G. Berube

uniform.
    â€œI understand, Connor. Let me know what you need.”
    â€œI don’t need anything from you. I’ll do this my way.” He turned away.
    â€œConnor,” she said. Stark paused at the door keeping his back to her.
    â€œYour way will be the right way, right?”
    â€œIt’ll be done.”

    â€œReady for a drink?” Maddox asked Stark as they walked out of the embassy and into the parking lot.
    â€œIt’s a dry country,” Stark reminded him. “The closest liquor store is about a thousand miles away.” Stark sighed but then brightened. “Well, not totally dry. I know of one place that might have something decent.”
    â€œI thought you might. You always have, Connor.”
    â€œWe were younger and thinner then. And you didn’t have gray hair.”
    â€œYou’re one to talk. I see a few white flecks in that old rusty stubble of yours,” he said, offering Stark a cigarette. Maddox wore a white golf shirt that exposed his hairy arms. His fingertips were yellowed by years of smoking, and his voice was raspier than it had been twenty years ago when they were in college. For the first time Stark noticed the dark bags under his friend’s eyes. Clearly his work with the oil rigs had taken a toll.
    Stark accepted and motioned to Maddox for a light. It was his first cigarette in fifteen years and only the fifth in his life. He had smoked the first four with Maddox, too. The mere act of lighting one seemed to clear his mind.
    â€œHow the hell did I wind up here, Bill?”
    â€œI couldn’t stop her. I tried. She’s headstrong.”
    â€œSome things never change. So my job is to negotiate with the Yemenis and get them to send their boats to sea to patrol in the Gulf of Aden and south of Socotra near your oilfields.”
    â€œThat about sums it up.”
    â€œWhat’s the situation there? How much have you managed to get done?”
    â€œWe’ve finished three of the rigs. We don’t know when the last two will be completed. We’ve had a lot of delays. Most of our equipment and supplies are coming through Mukalla. Since the president shut down CTF 151 and redeployed everything to the Persian Gulf and the Pacific six months ago, we haven’t had much protection from the pirates. European and Arab naval presence is sporadic at best, so I’ve had to rely on the small force you set up.”
    â€œLast thing I ever expected to do was start a maritime security company.” Stark took a long drag on the cigarette as he looked around the nearly empty compound. There were a lot fewer people around than the last time he was here. The walled portion of the compound was topped off by thousands of yards of concertina wire. Aside from the embassy building itself, most of the filth-encrusted structures inside had only one or two stories. The tennis courts on the far side of the lot were empty, the nets ragged with disuse and exposure to the elements. Even the Sheraton a few blocks away had failed to manage a clean façade. A Toyota minivan and a Land Cruiser were the only vehicles in the parking lot.
    â€œYou did good—and the folks you hired know their jobs. The Kirkwall ’s a good boat. The Deveron and the Arnish don’t have her speed, but each of them carries two RHIBs and a helicopter as you recommended. Your instinct was right. The bird does a great job of extending the patrol range, and the inflatables deter the pirates, but the Ali Babas are a lot bolder these days. And Idon’t have to tell you what all this security is costing me. At some point— and soon—I’ll be spending so much on security that any potential benefits from the oil rigs will be negligible, especially since I don’t own them outright. Which is why Washington is so concerned about stability and negotiations with the Yemenis.”
    â€œI get it, Bill. If they’re so concerned, though, why is the embassy