Ex-soldier Birmingham-gangster bets his life on luck and illegalities, adroit wit and burning passion streaking his blood-stained fingertips as a dire quarrel commence between himself and the disturbed Dane who purloined his lover.
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HIVE AUTOMATICS
THE RIDE WAS LONG and insufferable, but when the ship weighed anchor, Ines found herself out in the open at last. Compared to the passengers shivering or hurrying inside, the cold seemed to have no affection for the woman. Unable to take her eyes off of the stunning refreshing colored sea, she inhaled deeply—for once not through her a filter and she felt, even if only for a single moment, she felt peace at heart.
She had never been introduced to war or an open gunfight – though she had been in plenty situations where it would not have been worth batting an eye should a rifle be fired – and for that, she was thankful. Anyhow it would be foolish in every way and disrespectful to assume she had never known pain. A time where she would feel relieved from the pressuring weight burdening her soul was one like this one, where she could be by herself, cold and alone, the only sounds coming from the hull and the unruly ocean's waves, the cawing of seagulls every now and then.
It had not been the first time she found herself on a ship, however for some reason, Ines never failed to be amazed by the view and she leaned her body over the railing, despite the sign by her side advising passengers to stay clear.
Crossing the North Sea to make her second trip to Germany in just the second month of the year, Ines had still over half of the journey ahead before she would reach Berlin. As decided at the Ghent Business Congress, Ines was to meet with Nikolaj Brogaard, owner and founder of the well-known brand of Hive Automatics. In Berlin Ines had agreed to meet Mr. Brogaard to aid her consultation, possibly speak settings for a contract should things turn out great.
The meeting was nothing more than Ines proposing whatever ideas might make out in her mind when seeing the Dane's recent prototype for the newest model of his 1930 Hive Convertible Custom series, still; she remained hopeful. Over the past months, Ines had managed to do little efficient work and become convinced it was to do with her father's death.
It had been a tragic happening, albeit the time to move on had come and she would be damned if she stepped down from the vertex now.
Mila and Hans would not have wished for Ines to give up at such a time.
The time to shine had come.
. . .
RECOGNIZING A LANGUAGE SPOKEN behind her back, she picked up the familiar words exchanged. It had been awfully long since she herself had spoken German, let alone heard someone else speak the vernacular.
It was spokenbroken, however with a tad bit effort, it was one she understood.
Upon turning her head she caught a glimpse of Nikolaj Brogaard and his otherwise malcontent expression turned into a happier one. Excusing himself to the worker, he gave the man a polite pad on the shoulder before meeting Ines.
"You did not tell me you speak German," accused Ines with a polite smile, holding out her hand and Nikolaj shook it with both of his, his eyes sparkling and smile beaming.
