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

James turned back to the dark-tinted windows and rolled his eyes as Blake adjusted the GPS.

The Tranquillity Hotel stood across from the Praek Tuek Chhu River. Behind a stylish iron gate, the French colonial revival building seemed to sprout little curled metal thorns that hid the nasty-looking spikes on top, while tropical plants with orange and blue flowers brightened up the yard. Sun-stained shingles formed a sloping roof the same colour as the dust that inhabited the town.

“Shame the Hilton or the Sheraton didn’t make it down here yet,” Blake said in his usual snobbish tone.

James sighed and climbed out of the car to ring the bell affixed to the wall. It buzzed and a woman answered. He stated their names and a few moments later the gates parted with a rumble.

Blake barely fitted the car behind the protective iron bars before the owner of the hotel stepped out onto the porch. Her skin was as weathered as old leather and her smiling face betrayed no disapproval at the overt displays of wealth from the two barang.

“Hello, a pleasure to meet you.” James took her hand lightly in his. “Do you speak English?”

“Yes, and French,” she said. “My name is Boupha. You must be Mr. Winchester.”

“James, please. We would like two rooms, the best you have. I apologise for my friend. He’s quite picky.”

Boupha nodded knowingly. “We are first hotel in Kampot. Your friend will be very happy. Please, you come.”

The kindly proprietor led the way inside. Blake burned a hole in the woman’s back as he gestured at his overnight bag.

“Just come on, Blake, grab it yourself. This isn’t the Hilton.”

James followed on behind her into the reception. A strong layer of lacquer made every wooden surface shine. The well-lit room illuminated the black-and-white pictures of Kampot’s past. James focused on one picture of grinning young Khmers in straw hats, knee-deep in the waters of the river with fishing rods by their feet and friends linking arms.

“It’s my family.” Boupha patted her chest as she said it. “Soldier from America take picture. Very nice man.”

James didn’t need to ask where those family members were now. The photo must have been taken in the declining years of the old kingdom as the fanatics of the Khmer Rouge closed in. He tore his eyes away from the picture of the faces.

After taking their passports, she guided them through the back of the reception into a courtyard. Little stone walkways the colour of a subdued sunrise led past separate rooms with blue painted doors. Asian Palmyras towered above the buildings, with small, scented flowers battling for the fingers of sunlight.

“This your room. And this your room.” Boupha pointed at two doors and handed them the keys. “You need something you tell me. Welcome.”

James returned her enthusiasm with a smile as she tottered off along the walkway.

Blake stood with his hands on his hips. “Meet me out here in two hours and let’s get this over with. I swear I heard banjos when we came in.”

Chapter Nineteen

Blake stretched himself out in the Spartan room. Ocean blue bedsheets smelling of fresh soap covered a large double mattress. The air conditioner above the door rattled as it berated the room with ice-cold air.

He picked up his phone and dialled the number he remembered by heart.

“Yes?” Gallagher answered.

“It’s Blake. We’ve just arrived in Kampot.”

“How’s Winchester?”

“As difficult as usual. He doesn’t say much. I get the impression he’s not too happy about this.”

Gallagher prickled. “What Winchester thinks is irrelevant.” He spat out his words in a rush so Blake couldn’t interrupt. “He works for me, as do you. Nevertheless, it’s not important whether agents are happy or not as long as they get the job done. Update me on your progress.”

Blake explained everything about their current situation. He’d got everything he needed from Sinclair. Gallagher occasionally grunted after a particularly important piece of information.

“I received something important from Mr. Sen, but you are not to share this with anyone, least of all with Winchester and Wood, you understand?”

“Of course.”

Gallagher took in a long, loud breath. “Sen has issued an additional contract that I want you to take care of. The new target is Pen Thom.”

Blake didn’t say anything for a long time. His stomach and legs wobbled, and he had to grab the dented side table.

“Blake?”

“I’m here. I just don’t understand. Thom is our main point of contact for General Narith.”

“I know. This is why this situation must be handled delicately. Sen issued this new contract quite a while ago. That is the reason I ordered you to Cambodia. Sen believes Thom is a traitor in the making.”

“And is he?” Blake breathed.

“It’s none of our business. He is the client. You must let Thom lead you all to General Narith and when the right moment arises, finish Thom off discreetly. Make it look like General Narith’s forces were involved... or Xiphos. We need Thom alive until we can assassinate the general.”

“Okay.”

“Very well. I leave the matter in your capable hands.”

The line went dead, and Blake lowered the phone. It made sense. James would never agree to deal in duplicity. He’d never had the ice-cold heart of a professional mercenary. His unmatched skills covered for his unfortunate sense of morality.

Blake mulled over the information as he dressed to meet James.

On the other side of the thin wall, James removed his ear from the cold brickwork. He’d heard everything.

Chapter Twenty

Sihanoukville, Preah Sihanouk Province, Cambodia

Since the intervention of China in Cambodia’s domestic and foreign affairs, Sihanoukville had grown into a town of significant military importance. The Cambodian military had bases all over the surrounding area. The military cadre had purchased property throughout Sihanoukville, so they never truly had to leave home. General