Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Gulf of Aden
Four Days Later
Nate awoke with a start and realized that Ana was shaking him. He looked blankly up at her beautiful face before noticing her look of concern.
“What is it?” he asked. There was a siren going off somewhere on the ship.
“I don’t know,” she said, as she quickly got out of bed and threw on his button-down shirt and a pair of shorts.
It was several days into their journey and Nate had spent the last few nights with Ana.
In between planning the expedition, preparing equipment, and hanging out with the rest of the group, the two had gotten to know one another well and had come to really enjoy each other’s company, both in and out of the bedroom.
Nothing in Nate’s life had ever felt so easy as talking to Ana, and he opened up to her more than he had any other person, save maybe Tim.
He talked about growing up and growing apart from his father, his graduate studies, and his time in the military, though not about what had happened in Yemen. Not yet.
And she truly listened. Nate had never had a relationship like this, nor had he ever wanted to connect with a woman on such a deep level.
With Ana, it was like breathing. It came naturally and he couldn’t stop it if he wanted to.
It conflicted him, though, because he was both happy that she was along for the ride yet concerned about her safety.
Nate rolled out of bed and put his pants on.
He couldn’t find his socks and so he pulled his Vasque boots on over his bare feet.
He spun in a circle looking for his gray Kuhl button-down shirt before realizing Ana was wearing it.
She read his face and looked down, giving an expression that said I’m sorry.
There was a bang on the door and Nate rushed over to answer it. Shane was outside.
“Looks like pirates,” he said, momentarily confused at seeing Nate in Ana’s cabin. The two had not made their ongoing relationship public. Shane looked past his friend and saw Ana wearing Nate’s shirt. He grinned at her and winked at him.
“Alright,” Nate said, pushing him back out the door. “Let’s go.” They ran out of the superstructure and down onto the deck where Wally was conversing with Tim.
“Alright, gents,” Tim yelled, “time to earn our keep!”
He started handing out AK-47s, which were freshly cleaned and oiled and looked almost brand new. Nate inserted a magazine and chambered a round as the others did the same. Tim stood locked and loaded with the PKM, a belt of additional ammunition hanging around his neck.
“What do we got?” Nate asked him.
“Two skiffs off starboard. They’ve fired a few warning shots, and they’ve ordered the ship to stop the engines.”
Nate moved to the railing and peered over. He could see the two small boats several hundred meters away. He’d thought they wouldn’t clear the Red Sea and make it into the Gulf of Aden until this afternoon, but judging by the widened channel and the pirates, they must have been ahead of schedule.
“Well shit,” Shane said. “That’s not going to be much of a challenge.”
“No, mate, it sure isn’t,” Wally agreed as Ana made her way out onto the deck, now fully dressed, though still wearing the button-down shirt. Nate looked in her direction.
“Stay back, Ana,” he said, waving her away. She nodded and walked back to stand beside the containers.
“Okay, boys,” Tim said, clearly back in his element, “hold your fire until they get closer. These aren’t exactly precision weapons we’re working with, and there’s no sense in wasting ammo.”
One of the skiffs broke ranks and started moving toward the ship as the engines stopped.
Nate could make out six men on the boat, only a few of whom appeared armed.
Like lambs to the slaughter, he thought.
These men had no idea what was waiting for them.
He almost felt bad for them, as it was likely desperation that had forced them to choose this profession. Then again, life was about choices.
“Get ready,” Tim said as the craft approached. When it was within a hundred meters he yelled, “Let ’em have it!”
All four men leaned over the side and began firing.
Nate, Shane, and Wally were all on semiautomatic, choosing their targets carefully.
Tim had the machine gun, so he was laying down hate, strafing the boat as it approached.
Men instantly began falling off the skiff.
The driver made a lame attempt to turn away from the unexpected fusillade, but it was no use.
He took a round in the chest from Shane and fell overboard with his accomplices.
Within ten seconds the boat was void of human life and slowly sinking into the sea.
The other skiff turned around and hightailed it out of the area.
“Fucking right, lads!” Wally yelled, and they all cheered. The crew cheered as well.
Nate laughed as Tim chest-bumped him, still holding the machine gun in one hand.
There were several high fives and slaps on the back as they celebrated their victory.
It was the type of fight they all loved.
In Afghanistan it was a far ambush, in Iraq it was rooftop fights.
The kind of situation where there was less risk to friendly forces and the enemy was easily overwhelmed by superior firepower and skill.
Nate was elated. That was, until he turned to check on Ana.
She was fine, at least physically. But she was standing by the containers with a shocked look on her face, shaking. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She said nothing; she simply stared at him with anger and disgust in her eyes. He handed the AK to Wally and walked over to her. “Ana?”
“You killed them,” she said, shaking her head. “And you’re… celebrating!”
Nate was confused. “They were pirates,” he said simply.
“I know they were pirates,” she said testily. “But you slaughtered them, and now you all are carrying on like you’ve just won a football match or something. What is wrong with you?” She turned to leave.
“Hey,” Nate said, reaching out and grabbing her arm. “What do you think was going to happen if we let them on board? They’d have taken the crew hostage, maybe killed us, and done God knows what to you.” Ana ripped her arm away.
“You can justify it however you want,” she spat back. “It doesn’t mean you have to carry on like barbarians.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you enjoyed killing those men. How are you any different from the terrorists you spent your time fighting in the military?” She turned and stormed off into the superstructure. Nate looked back at his teammates, who were now staring at him, just as mystified as he was.
Tim shrugged. “Women.”
Nate looked back after Ana as she disappeared through the door.
What the hell was happening? He looked down at himself and remembered he was shirtless.
He could see how it might have looked, him bare-chested and Tim with his wild beard, shooting like mad men and cheering.
But she wasn’t getting the full picture, and he was damned if he was going to let her think less of them for what had just happened.
He followed her back up into the cabin area. Her door was closed, so he knocked.
“Go away,” she said from inside.
“Ana, come on. I just want to talk. Will you open the door?”
“I don’t want to talk.”
He sighed. “Can I at least get my shirt back?”
There was a rustling sound from inside the cabin, and then Ana opened the door and handed him his shirt. She was now fully clothed in her own attire.
“Look, Ana, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “You’ve clearly got some pent-up aggression from whatever happened in Yemen all those years ago.” The statement caught him by surprise and slightly pissed him off.
“You think this has to do with Yemen?”
“Well, obviously something happened there that you guys don’t want to share with me.”
Nate clenched his jaw in frustration. Things had been so great between them, why was this happening now? His anger was building.
“You know what? You’re right. I’ve killed a lot of people.
But that’s not why I got into this business.
And what you saw out there? That’s a byproduct of a decade of using violence as a tool.
Yes, there is a side of me, a very primal and violent side.
It’s one I’ve suppressed for the last few years.
But it’s a part of me, and it’s what’s kept me alive. ”
She said nothing, simply stared at the floor.
“It’s also what kept you alive back in the souk,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.