Hunter Killer - Alex King Series 12 (2021), A BATEMAN [urban books to read TXT] 📗

most popular calibre handgun in the world, but no gun found at the scene, where I must have been discovered in a state of unconsciousness…” He looked at her and said, “Well, it wasn’t me. I was looking for the person who shot at me. I found him, and he shot at me again. It was foolish to go after him, and I have learned my lesson. Now, about the handcuff and my arrest…”

“I haven’t arrested you.”

“Then you’d better get this thing off me before it’s too late. You’re imprisoning me without due process.” King stared at her, but not as cold as he could have. His grey-blue eyes were cold enough to start with, like glacier water. There was no malice in his expression, but she could be under no illusion as to the seriousness of his mood. “And your techniques are disingenuous. You start off by denying I was shot at, but clearly the truck I hired was at the scene and it doesn’t take a CSI level of forensics investigation to see the windows are broken and my headrest has been shot out.”

“There was no vehicle at the scene,” she replied. “But you were seen driving a silver Toyota Hi-lux and you couldn’t very well hide it at the yard before we found you…” She stepped forwards and walked around the bottom of the bed, reached down, and unlocked the cuffs with a stubby-looking silver key. “I’ll be in touch,” she said, as she headed for the door.

“You’ll leave the rifle, bolt, magazine and bullets,” said King. “It’s illegal for me to leave town without them.”

“You’re planning on leaving town, Mister King?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied, rubbing the feeling back into his left wrist. “But I don’t see that you can do anything about it, as I’m not under arrest…”

“Be careful, Mister King,” she said. “There are many new faces around here because of the green energy project, and many more since your country’s submarine was discovered. I think you have already met someone with an agenda that does not align with your own. You should take care.” She rested the rifle against the wall and nodded to where he could find the rest of his things on the other side of the room. “Stay out of trouble.”

King watched her leave, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed, grimacing as he felt a twinge in his back and his head started to spin.

“You can’t leave yet.”

King looked up at the doorway where a tall, balding man with thick spectacles stood wearing a white medical coat with a stethoscope hanging loosely around his neck. He didn’t look happy with his patient.

“No harm done, I hear,” King replied.

“You’ve had a serious concussion. You should rest and remain under our observation.”

King nodded. “I’ve had a few concussions in my time, I know the score.”

“I can see you’ve suffered a few traumas. You are a former soldier, yes?”

King shrugged. His employment had never looked good on a form. He found silence was sometimes the best answer he could give, or the people asking the questions could hope for.

 “You have bullet wounds, the scars from knife wounds and your body has suffered many blunt force traumas.” The doctor stared at him. “Whatever you do, you should perhaps stop doing it…”

“Do you need my medical insurance details?” King asked, changing the subject.

“You will see the reception desk on your way out,” the doctor replied. “You know, it’s illegal to die in Svalbard.” He mused. “If a citizen has a terminal disease, then they must return to Norway. The permafrost prevents the digging of graves.”

“I’ll be careful not to die, then.”

“I’m thinking of the people who get in your way.” The doctor turned and hesitated in the doorway. “Don’t fall asleep until tonight, and if you suffer a headache take a couple of paracetamols and call the hospital if it persists. Likewise, you should contact us if you suffer from double vision or dizziness. But I’m guessing you know the score…”

King watched the man leave and got off the bed, the hospital gown was gapping open at the rear and catching a draft as he gathered his clothes and the rifle and pulled the cubicle curtain around him.

Chapter Fifteen

 

King had never experienced a fog like it. He had filled in the forms on the desk and left the hospital, unable to see more than twenty feet in front of him. He had supposed the Toyota was still at the cargo storage compound, but from what Karlsson had said he could only assume the gunman had stolen it. There couldn’t be many places to hide it and making it roll into deep water would be about the only way of disposing of it, but a can of petrol and a match would be more effective and a lot less discreet. He could not see to what ends it served the gunman to steal the pick-up, other than to escape in and now there would be their DNA inside.

He had asked someone for directions, a spectre appearing before him out of the gloom, but the man had not spoken English and King’s Norwegian was about on the same par, so the two had parted ways and disappeared from each other after a few paces. Thankfully, the hotel was on the main street and once he worked out that he was at least on the right street and the correct side of the road, he was able to make his way there, slipping under foot as the ice had started to melt on the surface, making progress treacherous.

As he entered the lobby King was met by Madeleine who looked pleased to see him. “Oh, thank goodness you’re okay!” she exclaimed and hugged him closely. “There was a shooting near the beach! Somebody said it was a