Read Online White Death by Ken McClure - Free Book Online

mountains had fostered in him a great love of the outdoors. He had done well at school which had encouraged parents and teachers to push him towards medicine and he had duly complied by studying medicine although his heart had never been in it. After qualifying and doing his registration year, he had stopped pretending and admitted to his nearest and dearest that this was not the career for him. He had bitten the bullet and informed his family that he was joining the army.
    Army life had suited Steven down to the ground. A naturally strong and athletic man, he had taken to it like a duck to water, serving first with the Parachute Regiment and then on secondment to Special Forces where his medical skills were put to good use, ensuring over the years that he had become an expert in field medicine with his skills honed in the deserts of the Middle East and the jungles of South America.
    The operational life of a Special Forces soldier, however, has a lifespan not much longer than that of a professional footballer and Steven had recognised this as he approached his mid-thirties. Time for him was running out and the bleak prospect of a return to civilian life was looming on the horizon. The few options he could see had not seemed attractive. The medical career train had long passed him by and demand for his specialist skills in wound treatment and bullet removal under field conditions was not going to be great in civvy street. He saw himself becoming an in-house medic for some large insurance company or working in a liaison role in the pharmaceutical industry, but neither appealed to someone who had always known and craved adventure.
    He was saved from the humdrum, however, by John Macmillan who ran a small, elite unit at the Home Office called the Sci-Med Inspectorate. This comprised a small body of medical/scientific specialist investigators who would look into the possibility of crime in areas where the police lacked expertise. Steven was taken on board as a medical investigator and had found his niche in an organisation that only recruited the best. It was a pre-condition that Sci-Med investigators had to have had other careers in which they had demonstrated resourcefulness and initiative on top of professional expertise and above all, in John Macmillan’s estimation, be blessed with a great deal of plain common sense.
    Macmillan took the view that no man knew how he would react in times of great personal danger until he was actually placed in that situation and tested. Very few ever were in the course of ‘normal’ jobs. Paint-ball wars and building bridges over imaginary rivers on company weekends was fine for salesmen but not for Sci-Med people. Heroics on the rugby pitch were one thing but continuing to fight on when the man beside you has just been cut in half by automatic weapon fire was quite another. Steven had been tested for real and had come through with flying colours. He had become one of Sci-Med’s top investigators.
    Steven still didn’t feel too well but there were no outward signs of this as he dressed in dark blue suit, light blue shirt and Parachute Regiment tie and checked his appearance in the mirror, making sure his dark hair wasn’t standing up. Macmillan did not like sloppiness. He checked his watch and set off for the Home Office.
    As he climbed the stairs he knew that the first thing Jean Roberts, Macmillan’s secretary, would ask about would be Jenny and so it proved.
    ‘She’s growing into quite the little madam,’ replied Steven.
    ‘Ah,’ said Jean. ‘Getting to that age?’
    Steven nodded. ‘How’s the choir doing?’ he asked, wanting to change the subject and knowing that Jean’s membership of the South London Bach choir was one of the cornerstones of her life.
    ‘Busy, busy, busy,’ replied Jean. ‘One concert every week for the last three weeks and we have a ten-day tour coming up in two months’ time.’
    ‘That should keep you out of mischief.’
    ‘Who’s keeping who