with a man at the front desk and was handed his credentials.
âWelcome to Yemen, Commander,â the young man said. âThe ambassador is expecting you.â He pointed to the stairway behind him. âOne flight up.â
Still stiff from the long plane ride, Stark winced his way up the stairs. The friendly voice that greeted him as he approached the top made him stop short and look up.
âItâs about time you got here, Connor. The golf course just hasnât been the same without you.â
âBill,â Stark said, grinning at the man seated against the wall to the left of the receptionist. He shook Maddoxâs hand and pulled him into a bear hug. âYou should be right at home playing in the desertâitâs just one big sand trap.â
Maddox snorted. âWeâll talk about that later. You have to meet the ambassador alone first, and you have to know before you go in that I had nothing to do with this, okay? I advised her against it.â
Stark frowned. âHer? What are you talking abââ
The door to the ambassadorâs office flew open and a rich soprano voice rang out. âMindy, I thought you said he was on his way up.â Ambassador Caroline Sumner glanced past the receptionist, then smiled. âOh. You are here. Please come in, Commander,â she said cautiously.
After a brief moment of shock, Stark moved without a word toward the inner door, only his compressed lips revealing the extent of his anger. He glanced back at Maddox, who simply grimaced and sat back down. âGood luck,â he mouthed.
âYouâve got to be kidding me!â Stark said as the receptionist closed the door behind him. âIâm not sure what Iâm more surprised atâthat youâre an ambassador or that you ripped me away from my happy retirement to come here!â He didnât even try to mask the displeasure in his tone.
Although the room was supposed to be soundproofed, the two people in the reception area could clearly hear his booming voice.
âCommander, Iââ
âCommander? No. Itâs Connor. Just plain Connor. At least it was until you sent the Navy after me.â
âDonât shout at me. Iâm a United States ambassador. Show some damned respect, Connor, if not for me than for the office I hold and for the president I serve. Or youâll find yourself court-martialed again.â
âReally?â he said in a voice of velvet steel. âIf you or the president want me court-martialed, go right ahead. Iâve been there before,â he said, daring her to say something else.
She sank into her seat and paused. âPlease, Connor, sit down.â
Stark grudgingly complied, if only to substitute the expensive cushioned chair in front of her desk for the memory of the airplane seats he had occupied for the past thirty hours. âWhy the hell am I here?â
C. J. swiveled her chair to face the window, giving him only her elegant profile to look at.
âYour predecessor left this morning. He wasnât getting much traction with what weâve been assigned to do here. I havenât been in the job long. I want to get this right, but I keep hitting walls. I need someone I trust who can break through those walls.â
Connor threw back his head and laughed. âThatâs a new one, C. J. When did you start trusting me?â He rose from the chair and walked toward the window, back into her field of view.
âI do trust you. Your word is better than any contract.â Assuming the full authority of her office, she sat in silence, waiting for his full attention.
Stark stared out the window, allowing the tension in the room to build. In all the time he had spent in Yemen he had never seen the city from this vantage point. At this time of day the market in the street below was full of vendors and customers bickering about the price of items for sale. âThat word didnât save me
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