JET - Ignition: (JET 18) by Russell Blake

Author:Russell Blake [Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Reprobatio Press
Published: 2022-09-26T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

St. Andrews, Scotland

Lun watched his final putt of the day sink into the eighteenth hole and smiled for the fiftieth time, his face aching from the unfamiliar expression. The course had been magnificent, just as he’d expected and as challenging as any he’d played on, with the additional gravitas of the area’s history making every hole a personal challenge for him. He wiped away a trickle of perspiration from his brow and gazed skyward to where a pair of seagulls were noisily circling the course, and looked to the Malaysian politician.

“Wonderful game. Truly,” Lun said. “A delight I shall never forget, Hatar.”

“It was indeed, was it not? I’m so glad that you were able to make it. There are some things that transcend description.”

Lun nodded. “I completely agree.”

Their caddy gathered their clubs and placed them into the back of his cart, and Lun and Hatar followed in their own back to the golf club. Hatar smiled broadly as he pulled to a stop in one of the reserved slots and turned to Lun.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m parched after all that exertion,” he said. “The beer was half warm.”

“And half flat,” Lun agreed.

“Best if we stick to scotch from here on out, don’t you think?”

“I can’t think of a single argument against it,” Lun said and accompanied the Malaysian into the club’s bar – a storied affair that, like the course, reeked of history and tradition.

Hatar checked the time on his platinum watch. “I told my chef to expect us in an hour or so. Does that work for you?”

“Yes. I’m hungry after eighteen holes.”

“And thirsty, I hope,” Hatar said, signaling for the barkeep. A server hurried over, and Lun spoke to him in English.

“Do you have a list of your best scotches?”

“Of course, sir,” the man said, and went in search of it as Hatar and Lun took in the place. When he returned, he presented a laminated card to Lun, who perused it before setting it on the table.

“Two glasses of the Bowmore 1984. Neat.”

Hatar nodded approval as the server departed to get their drinks. “A fine choice.”

“Yes, their list is extensive.”

“I took the liberty of arranging for a bottle of Dalmore Constellation 1973 Cask Ten for us to try with dinner. Have you had it?”

Lun shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“It’s truly remarkable. An experience, not a whiskey. Rare as hen’s teeth.”

“I look forward to it.”

The server returned with a bottle on a tray and two glasses. He set them down on the table and poured an inch into each. He waited until Lun tasted his and nodded acceptance, and then disappeared, leaving them to their drinks. They both took appreciative sips, and Hatar set his glass down as Lun swirled his and sniffed, the better to appreciate the aroma.

“My chef is a master,” Hatar said. “I stole him from one of the top restaurants in Okinawa. A magician, truly. The man has a gift. I’m glad you’ll have the time to dine with me.

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