The Aden Effect (40 page)

“TAO, where's that incoming aircraft?”

“Still coming in slow at less than thirty knots.”

The time was fast approaching for Stark to make his first two command decisions. “Boss?”

The lieutenant commander anticipated the new CO's question. “Five-Eight can get there. She can't make it back.”

“How much fuel time does Five-Seven have?”

“We landed with twenty-five minutes remaining.”

“I want you up now.”

“Sir, with only twenty-five minutes of fuel I'll have one pass at best.”

“Boss, I give you my word that Five-Seven and all souls on board will return with a few gallons to spare. What I'm planning will have you up and back within fifteen minutes. I know that's cutting it closer than the books say. I need to know if you can do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“As soon as you're up, we'll bring in Five-Eight. Five-Seven will intercept that incoming aircraft, determine intent, and then contact me for instructions. Got it?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Go. Bobby, I'm a little out of practice on this stuff so I'm going to rely on you. How long would it take for us to pull up the chains and get under way?”

“Twenty, sir.”

“How long if I gave the command right now to cut the chain?”

“Five.”

“Cut the chain.”

Connor stood by the 1MC, cleared his throat, and looked at his watch.

“All hands, this is Commander John Connor Stark. Effective twelve twenty-two hours, I assumed command of the USS
Bennington
. The ship has temporarily lost most of its command staff, but it hasn't lost you. Damage control teams are to continue rescue and recovery efforts in officers' country. I know we're shorthanded. Civilian medical personnel are now aboard and
rendering assistance to our wounded. Everyone must step into the roles of your chiefs and officers. We have incoming platforms over the horizon. We will not run except forward into battle.”

Stark looked down at the deck and the ship's crest before continuing. “Crew of the
Bennington
, our motto is Vigilant and Victorious. If we have been short on vigilance, we will not be short on victory. All hands, battle stations. CO out.”

“All ahead two-thirds, steer course zero-one-zero,” commanded Stark.

“All ahead two-thirds, aye, steer course zero-one-zero,” Bobby relayed to the helm.

“RSO, CO, over,” Stark called through the handheld radio.

“RSO, go ahead, over.”

“I'll lose you in a minute. I just wanted to let you know we have something to take care of, over.”

“RSO, understood. Godspeed CO. Out.”

Stark nodded. He could trust Golzari to take care of the embassy staff and aid workers while the
Bennington
was out of the area.

“Sir, Five-Seven is requesting green deck.”

“Green deck is authorized.”

Five-Seven emerged from the aft superstructure and paralleled the ship on the starboard side. Air Boss saluted the bridge, then accelerated ahead. Two of the Yemeni 134-ton
Bay
-class patrol boats came up to the damaged cruiser on either side. The ship to port carried the Yemeni admiral.

“All stations report manned and ready,” Fisk told the CO.

Stark focused his attention on the horizon, where he could now see the ship headed toward them, still twenty-five nautical miles away.

“Ensign Fisk, request our Yemeni escorts maintain course and speed abreast of us.” Stark could only hope the escorts
would
remain, if only as a show of united force against the unknown enemy.

Stark picked up the ship-to-ship radio microphone. “This is the USS
Bennington
to the three ships thirty nautical miles north of Hadiboh, Socotra. You are on course to a security area. You are directed to reverse your direction immediately, over.”

When the speaker returned nothing but static, Stark repeated the hail. This time there was a response.

“This is the merchant ship
Suleiman
to U.S. Navy warship,” came a voice in broken English. “We do not recognize your authority in this region.”

“
Suleiman
, this is
Bennington
. If you do not reverse course immediately, we will be forced to fire on you,” Stark responded.

Silence.

“Bridge, TAO,” WEPS called from the Combat Information Center. “Five-Seven reports twelve small inbound boats, six manned, six unmanned. Distance ten nautical miles and closing rapidly.”

“Understood.” Stark's face showed grim determination. It was the
Kirkwall
sinking all over again. Well, not this time. He didn't intend to let another ship and crew sink beneath him. And he was damned if he was going to allow terrorists, pirates, or whatever they were to be victorious against a U.S. Navy ship and all it represented.

“
Suleiman
, this is your final warning.” He replaced the ship-to-ship mike.

“Conn, steer course zero-eight-zero. Report—are both 5-inch guns manned and ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“TAO, this is the captain. Advise the gun crews to commence firing at the small boats.”

“Aye, sir . . . message relayed. Fire will commence now.”

The aft 5-inch fifty-four came alive first, then the forward mount, both firing sixteen rounds a minute, shaking the 10,000-ton ship with each recoil. Only a lucky shot would take out one of the fast boats directly, but if shells landed close enough they'd capsize.

“This is
Suleiman
. Stop firing.”

“Tell me why, over.”

“We have women and children.”

“Then tell your boats to turn around.”

“Bridge, TAO. Five-Seven is in proximity to the unidentified helicopter. No response from it despite repeated hails.”

Stark saw one of the small boats explode from a good shot. Seven more were still inbound.

“TAO, CO. Direct Five-Seven to take out the helicopter with their Hellfire” Stark and Bobby watched a moment later as Batwing 57 went in for the kill. A smoke trail flew from its side toward the
Suleiman
's helicopter, and a micro sunburst appeared in the sky to their port quarter. The helo fell from the sky in flames.

“TAO, CO. Convey to Five-Seven, BRAVO ZULU. Return to ship immediately.”

The four unmanned remote-controlled boats veered off wildly without direction from the master controller in the helicopter.

The crew manning the portside M-2 .50-caliber machine guns now took their turn as the three manned boats pulled within a mile of the ship. One by one the small boats fell victim to the firepower of the
Bennington
and the Yemeni ships.

“Conn, all engines ahead two-thirds. Steer course,” Stark paused to read the compass heading, “three-five-five. Make your heading for that ship. Ensign, what do you call your VBSS teams?”

“Hessian 1 and Hessian 2, sir.”

Stark took the ship-to-ship radio back and switched to channel 46, the prearranged channel to communicate with the Yemenis.

“Admiral, this is Stark. We intend to board the main ship. Request that you and your ships stop and search the other two.”

“Commander Stark, I copy. We will begin searching. I was just informed that Ali may be on one of the ships.” The Yemeni ships picked up speed to intercept the two smaller OSVs. Stark prayed that Ali was not on the
Suleiman
.

“Ensign Fisk, order both VBSS teams to prepare for a noncompliant boarding. I'll join the Hessian 1 boat. Make sure one of them brings my Beretta.” He offered an encouraging smile and pat on the shoulder to the young ensign who represented the future of his navy and his country. In the midst of battle, Connor Stark realized that they had indeed again become his navy and his country.

“Aye, sir!”

“TAO, CO. Order forward mount to fire three shots across the bow of the
Suleiman
.”

Stark waited a few seconds for the first shell to hit the water before returning to the open mike. “
Suleiman
, this is
Bennington
. Heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

“
Bennington
, stop your attack or you will all die.” The voice, with an Arabic accent, not a Somali one, spoke with slow and deliberate coldness.

“Bridge, TAO.
Suleiman
is increasing range, but she can't do any better than she's doing, according to our recognition books.”

“TAO, CO. Forward mount is authorized to fire one shot at the
Suleiman
's stern. I will buy all of them a beer at the next port if the first shot takes out her propulsion.” The first shot landed near the stern, but still close enough to damage the propellers. The ship slowed.

“Bobby, the bridge is yours.”

Bobby looked oddly disappointed for a junior officer who was receiving command of a U.S. Navy warship. “S-sir,” he stuttered, “I haven't completed my surface warfare quals yet.”

Stark had seen nothing to make him doubt Bobby's ability to take over the bridge. Had he perhaps hoped for something else? Then he realized what it was. “TAO, CO. Report to the bridge to assume temporary command. Bobby, I seem to have forgotten that the VBSS teams don't have officers. You are to take the Hessian 2 team and follow up on Hessian 1.”

“Aye, sir.” Bobby's grin went from ear to ear. “We'll see you there!”

With Five-Seven having returned to
Bennington
to refuel, Hessian 1 and Hessian 2 lacked air cover and were far more vulnerable to gunfire. Stark called to the target over the radio. “
Suleiman
, prepare to be boarded. Drop your weapons and gather on the stern of your ship, over.”

“Go to hell, Americans,” came the sharp reply.

Both RHIBs were still two hundred yards away when Stark ordered them to hold up. The
Suleiman
's deck suddenly swarmed with men, many of them armed. The sharpshooters on the RHIBs methodically shot down every one of them who was carrying a gun. Stark commanded the boats to proceed. More men emerged as the boats got nearer. Some leapt into the water while others went aft holding their hands behind their heads.

When Hessian 1 arrived alongside, two of the team members threw a rope ladder over the transom of the
Suleiman
and climbed aboard, paving the way for their new CO. Stark joined them, his 9-mm pistol in his right hand.

Stark called for four men to follow him as he made his way to the bridge. They met brief resistance as they rounded one corner, but a Hessian with a Remington 870 shotgun easily cleared the way. When they reached the wooden door to the bridge, Stark motioned for his men to stand back and fire through it. Afterward, Stark pushed the shattered frame through and carefully looked around the bridge, his pistol still at the ready. There were three bodies lying on the deck. One was a Somali who must have been standing in front of the door when the volley came through. A second Somali seemed to have been shot at close range, possibly prevented from escaping. Stark recognized the third man, a Yemeni. And in the corner lay Ali, bound but unhurt.

Connor carefully walked toward the third man, keeping his pistol trained until he was sure the man had no weapon. Faisal was lying on his back, alive, his legs covered with blood. “Get the medical kit,” Stark said to one of his sailors as he knelt beside the injured man. When their eyes met, Stark found himself momentarily unable to speak to the man responsible for the blood on this deck and in the wardroom of the
Bennington
; the blood of many others was on his hands as well—the
Kirkwall
's crew among them.

“Faisal. I didn't want it to be you. Your father is my friend. How could you do this?”

Faisal said nothing. He neither turned away nor closed his eyes. He simply stared into Stark's damp eyes, his own eyes blazing with hatred.

“How many people have you killed? And Ali. Why did you take him? For what?”

“For my country! We must free ourselves from Americans and Ali's ideas of progress. We will live by sharia law and grow strong and righteous.” His strength ebbing, Faisal whispered, “I have failed. I will die now.”