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

that there would be something, but there was only silence and static. The thought that they had encountered a hostile alien species that could kill them with impunity was a terrifying thought—it was the worst nightmare humanity could conjure, and now it seemed as though it could be reality.

As much of a relief as it was to have his argument as to the aliens’ hostility confirmed, Samson knew the consequences of being right were far worse than being wrong. With such losses incurred, the Admiralty had to score some retribution to level the scales before they could even consider attempting negotiations again. That meant further conflict was guaranteed—not that peace seemed likely in any case.

The unsettling thoughts raced around in Samson’s head as he did his best to appear positive in front of the crew—the fleet was coming, and when they arrived, they would hunt and destroy the alien vessel. He forced himself to believe that was how it would play out. If more came, they would receive the same treatment until they were willing to communicate a peace, or retreated back to wherever they came from.

Despite all that had happened, the inhabitants of Holmwood Landing were oblivious to the seismic events that humanity had encountered. They’d know soon enough, and he suspected they’d look back and realise that sometimes ignorance truly is bliss. He did wonder where Arlen had been planning to sell his loot, and if he’d done so before. What kind of man would have the resources to move objects like that in secret, and connect them to the type of people with the money to buy them? A man like Kingston Smith, perhaps?

Once they touched down, Samson brought Price out onto the surface with him, both adopting their civilian guise once again. He wondered if they were wasting their time now that the Bounty looked like a miniature battleship rather than a rust-bucket hauler. Still, not many in the town were likely to pay much attention to the comings and goings at the spaceport, so civvies remained a smart choice in attire.

Samson didn’t bother calling into the spaceport’s administration office, their attitude on the last occasion having been so casual. The walk back to the chandler was uneventful, and Samson did his best to enjoy the sunlight and fresh air, things that were always a novelty for a naval officer.

Sirion Bates smiled broadly when he saw Samson approach, but it faded a little when his eyes fell on Price’s permanent scowl. Price always seemed to have an ‘I need a good reason not to kill you’ expression on his face when meeting strangers. It made Samson wonder how he ever made any friends, or met women.

‘I have to admit,’ Bates said when they came within earshot, ‘I really didn’t expect to ever see you again, Lieutenant.’

‘Lieutenant Commander now,’ Samson said. He suspected he wouldn’t have the rank all that much longer, so intended to make full use of it while he could. He handed over the power cell they’d agreed on as payment, which Bates took with an expression of raw greed on his face. The power cell was worth far more than the communications equipment they’d traded it for. Samson didn’t like being on the wrong end of a bargain to a whoremonger like Bates, but the circumstances had dictated that agreement. Once the Navy arrived in force, Samson suspected it wouldn’t take Bates long to find himself on the wrong side of justice, and awaiting his well-deserved fate.

‘I appreciate it, Lieutenant Commander,’ Bates said, smiling again, ‘and I hope we can do more business in the future. I’ve been considering broadening my offerings. Making my place a little more attractive to the discerning naval officer. Advance information like you gave me last time you were here can be the edge a businessman needs to get ahead of his rivals, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread word about town. I’ll always offer the Navy preferential rates—as a sign of my appreciation, you understand. Big changes ahead for this place, I tell you!’

Samson forced a smile. Standing in Bates’ presence felt like being smeared with rancid engine grease. It occurred to Samson that the best change that could be brought to this establishment would be on the receiving end of an orbital bombardment. It reminded him of the devastation on Dobson, and a chill ran over his skin.

‘I look forward to seeing it,’ Samson said, doing his best to smile.

‘Before you go, there’s one more thing,’ Bates said.

Samson raised an eyebrow, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He could feel Price energise beside him, ready to make anyone who meant them trouble regret the decision. Bates looked nervous, and Samson noticed that his clothes were of a higher quality than they had been on their previous visit. A faded shirt and trousers had been replaced with a business suit, albeit with a particularly unfashionable tie. He was trying to impress someone, and it certainly wasn’t Samson.

‘Expecting company?’ Samson said.

‘Indeed,’ Bates said, ‘although he’s here to see you.’

Price drew his pistol and his face darkened with murderous intent, but Samson held out his hand to steady him. How had they known he was coming? Word could have leaked out from the spaceport, but the staff had barely even acknowledged them when they’d made their landing request from orbit. He couldn’t see any of them rushing out to let the locals know a naval ship was about to set down.

‘Who?’ Samson said. ‘And how did they know we were coming?’

Bates shrugged. ‘I don’t ask questions I don’t need to know the answers to. He’s wanted to see you for a couple of days, and I told him you might be returning to settle up your tab.’

‘You still haven’t told me who, Bates,’ Samson said, allowing his hand to fall from holding Price back to his own holstered pistol.

‘It’s me, Captain. Your old pal Kingston Smith,’ said a voice that Samson instantly