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

King nodded. “Nothing new for you, then.”

“They’re pretty, but you get used to them.”

“In Poland?” King sipped his beer and stared at Daniel. “I didn’t think you could see them that far south.”

“Well, you can.”

“Surely not?”

“It’s about light pollution, not strictly northern geography.”

“But still…” King stared at him. “It’s not a common occurrence.”

“I grew up in a rural location, in one of the largest forests in Europe. The nights were dark, the stars were clear, and the sky was big. We saw the northern lights on many occasions…” He looked at Madeleine. “How is your crab? I was tempted to try it myself.”

Madeleine dipped a fleshy piece of claw meat into the butter and passed it over to him. King watched as he ate and agreed how wonderful it was. If he cared he would have felt awkward, but he wasn’t interested in Madeleine, Daniel could have her. But he did care why there was the pretence of including him. King had only spoken with her briefly in Oslo and she appeared to have met Daniel on the flight to Svalbard, and yet there was an easiness between them. They may well have slept together since arriving, and that was their business. Until he had met his wife Jane, King had always made it his business never to turn down sex when it was even a remote possibility, so he wasn’t one to judge what people got up to. However, sharing food was a long way down the dating line for him, and if two people were getting along so famously, so comfortably, then why include a rugged-looking man in his forties? There were plenty of people sitting alone in the restaurant, it was that sort of place. King could only come back to the thought that they wanted to keep him close. But why?

The conversation soon drifted to King and his line of work, and he soon realised that it was always Daniel, in his passive aggressive manner, that steered the conversation. The sort of questioning that would ordinarily lead the person being questioned to justify their position. King couldn’t be sure if Madeleine followed on through politeness or was part of the act.

“So, where did you train?” Daniel asked, taking a mouthful of cod.

King was aware of the technique – ask a question, then make it difficult to ask another, forcing the other person to fill the void. There was a reason why CEOs preferred to interview their executives over lunch. Anybody pleased with a lunchtime meeting in business and thinking they’d arrived was kidding themselves. King took a sip from his beer, recounting the legend Neil Ramsay had made for him, the faked, but designed to look little used social media account, the potted history. “I did an engineering degree at Brunel, then worked in the field for a number of years before deciding to specialise in marine engineering because of my love of diving.”

“Then you will have needed to retrain,” Daniel commented, suddenly having finished his mouthful.

“Indeed,” King replied, taking a sip of beer. He knew the technique well and decided to offer nothing else as he took another mouthful of the strange reindeer and potato stew. He’d lucked out, the dish didn’t work for him.

“Well?” Daniel prompted.

“Sorry,” said King, apparently done with the conversation. “Southampton University.” King had helped Ramsay keep the legend close to real events. King had in fact been working and living on the south coast at the same time, although he had been labouring and taking part in prize fights while on the run from several London gangs who were intent on getting their stake money back for a boxing match that he won but should have hit the canvas. Something had sparked in King that day, and he realised that he couldn’t lose or step away from a fight. The same trait had seen him in prison on a double manslaughter conviction. That all seemed so long ago now. Despite being a trained killer, he was a far better man now. “I didn’t realise I was attending an interview. Would you like to hear about my grades next?” King stared at him coldly, enjoying the effect it had on the younger man. He smiled, softening his eyes to let the man know he had been joking, but Daniel didn’t seem too convinced. King turned to Madeleine and asked, “What will you be doing with Aurora?”

She smiled and said, “I’m hoping to study cetaceans.”

“Right… That’s seals, isn’t it?” King asked, rolling the dice.

“No, they’re chordata, which break down into three families of odobenidae, otariidae, and phocidae. For example, walrus, sealions and fur seals, and true seals.” She paused. “No, cetaceans are whales and dolphins.”

“I see,” said King. “And if Aurora don’t have an opening in ocean mammals?”

“Sharks,” she replied emphatically. “I’m interested in cetaceans because of the numerous pods of orcas to be found there, where it was previously thought all orca pods were known. There are the orcas in Northern California and Oregon that hunt great white sharks solely for their liver, the orcas of Patagonia that have developed a beaching method for hunting seals and in Norway there are the super fishers, the orcas that have developed herding and stunning to hunt herring. Yes, there are many more pods around the world, but orcas are great travellers and migrate to different locations, scientists think, to communicate with other orca and learn their techniques.” She sipped some of her beer and smiled. “Sorry, I get passionate thinking about it. But if not, then I would be interested in sharks and in particular the Greenland Shark, which has recently been found in the cold climates of Iceland and Norwegian Fjords.”

“You must have dived with sharks,” Daniel said, looking at King.

“Both a pleasure and a natural risk in my working environment.”

“Not as much of a risk