Overthrow (A James Winchester Thriller Book 2) (James Winchester Series) by James Samuel (the gingerbread man read aloud .TXT) 📕

said something in Khmer to the man, before departing back downstairs with barely a flicker of acknowledgement.

“Alright,” said Mike. “Here we are. You pay him now.”

“How much?” asked James.

“Well, that depends on what you want. Cor, this is your first time, isn’t it?”

The obese Khmer glared up at them. “What you want?”

“You go first. Make sure you’re okay, then I’ll go. What do you want?”

James said, “Surprise me,” trying to muster enthusiasm.

His answer sent Mike into fits of giggles. “Surprise him, he says. I knew there was a reason I liked you. Good answer. He wants you to surprise him. Give him something really special for his first time.”

The obese Khmer didn’t find a hint of amusement in the answer. He slammed his meaty palm on a bell next to his laptop and a woman arrived. She wore a little cocktail dress, displaying every aspect of her youthful frame.

He spoke to her like a dog in Khmer. She only nodded and disappeared again.

“They’re getting your room ready,” said Mike. “Even in the best places, it takes a few minutes.”

“Five hundred dollars,” the Khmer said.

James snatched his wallet from his pocket and counted out the hundred dollar bills he’d brought with him on the flight. To the average Khmer, five hundred dollars would see them fed and homed for at least three months. In the villages, possibly half the year. The Khmer counted it out and deposited it in the drawer next to him without even a second spent marvelling at the crisp American notes.

“Just wait until the lady comes back and then off you pop.” Mike touched him on the shoulder. “They already know which one I want.”

The Khmer exhaled in a way that made him sound like he’d both sighed and choked on his spittle at the same time.

The lady returned after a couple of minutes of awkward waiting. James’ pulse quickened. He couldn’t back out now. The time had come. His fingers twitched with anger at the people who worked here day in and day out without a second thought for those they exploited.

She gave him a flirty smile and gestured for him to follow with a finger. Wearing a pair of six-inch heels, she tottered down a corridor of what looked like identical rooms. James couldn’t take his eyes off the double doors at the far end of the corridor. He knew instantly that Mr. Chea would be behind those doors.

She took him to the middle of the corridor and directed him to a door on the right. The girl flashed him another plastic smile, before admitting him. The door clicked shut behind him. His eyes adjusted to the scene. James found himself standing in a room straight out of a bad 1970s porno flick.

There was a mirror over what looked like a waterbed covered in zebra print sheets. The walls were a bright pink, lit by the same garish aura. A lava lamp glowed next to the bed, its insides of mineral oil and paraffin wax bumped up against each other like bacteria under a microscope. A small Khmer boy stood before him.

James gulped, the distinct feeling of nausea corroding his stomach. The Khmer boy looked nervous. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine. One of his front teeth was missing and his chocolate brown eyes darted from side to side. This boy hadn’t been here long. He still didn’t understand what it was all about.

“Hello,” said James.

The boy only stared back at him.

James felt silly trying to speak to him in English. The boy had found himself thrust into the dark underbelly of the world, alone and confused. James dreaded to think what The Palace’s other clients had done to him.

He fished his smartphone from his pocket, the only place he felt safe enough to do so. Pressing the speed dial button, the phone rang, and Sinclair answered. He heard the din of the party going on across the road through the speakers.

“I’m upstairs and in the room. Two doors down from where Mr. Chea should be,” said James.

“Good. Your friend is still outside waiting. He keeps looking back at me and smiling. I get the distinct impression he thinks I don’t trust him.”

“No, really?”

“What’s the security situation?”

“Almost non-existent. None of them look like they’re carrying guns. There’s no security outside Mr. Chea’s office. I should be able to make it in as long as nobody is watching the cameras.”

“Okay, don’t do anything stupid. Remember, it’s still illegal to touch little boys.”

James clicked off the phone, not finding the joke funny in the slightest.

He motioned to the boy to sit on the bed. As The Palace had taught him to do, he sat on the waterbed. The well-used bed looked fit to collapse at any moment under the boy’s weight. The Khmer boy seemed terrified. James had no affinity for children. He couldn’t stand to look at the child prostitute any longer.

Turning away, he ran through the plan in his head. His heart rate spiked once again. He let out a great puff of air as he eased the door open as slowly as he could. Peeking out into the corridor, he saw only the back of the obese Khmer. Mike had already disappeared into another room.

“Stay here.” James gestured with his finger at the bed, hoping the child understood.

James ventured into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He eased his way down the corridor at a quick pace. A security camera above Mr. Chea’s door pointed directly at him. James put everything out of his mind but the mission. Deftly, without making a sound, he tried the door. It opened with a soft clack.

He tightened his fists as a couple of Khmer glanced up at him dumbstruck. They wore the same uniforms as the security