The Alpha Protocol: Alpha Protocol Book 1 Duncan Hamilton (affordable ebook reader .TXT) 📖

you need.’ He made a few taps on a datapad set in his desktop and sat back, seemingly in the expectation that Samson would leave now that he had what he wanted.

Samson sat opposite Smith. The fact that he hadn’t been invited to sit had not escaped his notice, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. The Navy was in charge in this system, and Smith was going to realise that before Samson left the ship.

‘You never did elaborate on “this and that”,’ Samson said, making himself comfortable in the plush leather chair.

Smith’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments, but Samson saw it, and took satisfaction in the fact that he was getting under Smith’s skin.

‘I own a number of businesses that operate in Frontier sectors—raw material extraction, haulage. That sort of thing.’

‘I can’t imagine the Maggie can haul much in the way of raw materials.’

Smith’s smile had now returned and was seemingly unshakeable. ‘Of course not, Captain. I’m a hands-on boss. I like to keep an eye on my businesses. Make sure the lads aren’t slacking off. That’s why I have the Maggie. I travel a lot, and at my age I reckon I deserve a bit of luxury.’

‘Everyone deserves that, I suppose,’ Samson said, studying Smith as intently as Smith was studying him.

Samson could tell this was a man who’d seen plenty of violence. There was wit and charm in Smith’s expression, but underneath that façade there was more. A hard edge like Price’s, but there was something else here also—the calculating coldness of a man for whom the ends always justified the means. In that moment, Samson felt like a foolish boy who was in way over his head. This man was a predator used to swimming in deep waters. Samson had to remind himself that he was a naval officer, and had the Navy—and his Marines—standing behind him, to maintain his resolve.

The moment passed quickly. He’d been shot at by an alien species and hadn’t cracked. The fact that Smith had an aura of danger about him wasn’t something worth dwelling on.

‘I presume your ship’s logs will tally with the list of businesses Excise has you listed as owner of?’

Smith’s smile became thin, and Samson wondered if he was being needlessly confrontational. But Captain Wright’s instruction to ‘let them know the Navy is here’ echoed in his head, and he maintained his composure as he waited for an answer.

‘Of course,’ Smith said, ‘although many of my operations are small and in their early stages. Not all of the records may be fully filed yet.’

‘I’ll make a note of that in my report and ensure it’s forwarded to Excise so they can prioritise your filings. Properly-filed information makes admin work easier for everyone, don’t you think?’

Smith nodded, but said nothing.

‘I’d like to make a close inspection of the vessel,’ Samson said. ‘It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.’

‘I’m in something of a hurry,’ Smith said.

‘Really? It didn’t look like that when we were observing you.’

‘I’ve nothing to hide, Lieutenant Commander. Make yourself at home.’

Samson smiled at Smith not using the courtesy of calling him ‘captain’ any longer.

‘We’ll be as quick as we can, Mister Smith. Plenty of other ships to be keeping an eye on.’

Smith smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. He was studying Samson, appraising him, and Samson couldn’t work out why, which unsettled him. He stood, gave Smith a polite nod, and left.

Sanders was waiting outside with a datapad for Samson.

‘Mister Smith instructed that I should give you this. It’s a full outline of the ship’s manifest and logs. Feel free to hold onto it.’

Samson took it, wondering why they’d chosen to provide it in this way rather than simply transmitting the data. He gave Price his orders to continue going over the ship with a fine-toothed comb, then wandered back toward the Bounty, scrolling through the information on the datapad.

Everything he saw appeared to be in order, not that he expected it would be any different. If you could afford an Excelsior Bay, you could devote the resources to counterfeiting logs and manifests. His only hope was that it might show the vessel up as stolen, but nothing he had seen so far supported that theory, and there was nothing in the logs that could justify holding Smith back any longer than they already had.

He returned to the Bounty and continued to go through Mister Smith’s list of travels. He was a frequent visitor to Holmwood—indeed, it appeared to be his base. It seemed he had interests in half a dozen Frontier systems, and as many systems on the Inner Edge—those which had been on the Frontier thirty or forty years ago but were now enveloped by the borders of what most would consider civilisation.

Smith seemed to deal with pretty innocuous businesses. If they genuinely did yield a fortune large enough to buy an Excelsior Bay, Samson reckoned joining the Navy had been a very poor career choice. That was, if he was going to accept that the information and Smith’s list of businesses was genuine—which was something he couldn’t bring himself to do. He put the datapad down and scratched his chin. If he remained on duty in the system, he’d be sure to keep an eye out for Smith. The New Portsmouthman might be a dangerous adversary, but Samson would find the truth eventually.

The intercom beeped, and Price reported that they’d found nothing and were returning to the Bounty. Samson let the air whistle from between his teeth, then smiled. A man like Smith would have made duty on the Frontier more interesting, were it not for the fact there were seemingly two species of aliens fulfilling that task now. He released the docking clamps and sent the Maggie a confirmation that they were free to get underway. That done, he watched her drift off, then fire thrusters to begin her planetary re-entry.

‘Sir, I have a new arrival from the Current,’ Harper said.

‘Two in