Failed State (A James Winchester Thriller Book 1) (James Winchester Series) by James Samuel (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

lack of knowledge of Mexico and the cartels astounded and worried him in equal measure. Without someone like Diego, he wouldn’t know where to turn.

It took Diego just a few minutes to arrive with the Land Rover. Stubbing his cigarette out, James folded his arms as Diego climbed out of the car.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“We have two options. We can wait outside for them and try to take Parejo alive. Or we can go in there shooting and see what happens.”

James thought about it. Both options had their pros and cons, and each choice came with considerable risk. Either way, they had no indication of how many men Alex would have around him or how heavily armed they were.

As he considered the scenario, he fished about in his pocket for a five-peso coin and showed it to Diego. “How about this? Heads we shoot the place up. Tails we wait.”

Diego laughed. “I like the way you work, Winchester. Sure.”

James flipped the coin, caught it in the air and flipped it over onto the back of his hand. He lifted his hand off the coin. Heads.

“Well, I suppose God has decided for us,” said Diego. “Luckily, I got us something just in case we needed backup.”

Diego flicked his cigarette to the curb and threw open the Land Rover’s trunk to reveal a large, long lump. He whipped aside the sheet wrapped around it and two Colt M4 carbines looked back at them.

“They have bump stocks attached so these are fully automatic.”

“Are they loaded?”

“Yes, ready to go.”

James nodded, understanding what lay ahead for them. He didn’t know the layout of the restaurant, or how much resistance they might face. They didn’t even know if Alex was in there.

“Watch the civilians,” said James. “Nobody needs to die if they don’t deserve it.”

Diego shrugged. “We can try. But they better make sure they get down. If the narcos try to use them as shields, I’m firing either way.”

James bit his tongue. No, he wouldn’t shoot innocents even if they were in the way of his target. The narcos deserved everything they got. They’d chosen this life. The civilians in there had just found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time through no fault of their own.

James and Diego donned their balaclavas and affixed their heavy-duty combat gloves. With their final preparations complete, they grabbed their Colt M4s and advanced on the restaurant.

“Now!” Diego ordered.

James gave the door a good kick, right under the lock. The poor-quality lock burst open. Everyone in the restaurant jumped as the two men burst in. It didn’t take long to tell the narcos from the innocents.

James and Diego aimed their weapons at the first table of narcos, tattooed, dressed garishly, and with their characteristic cruel faces. Diego and James took aim and the table of four fell on all sides in a haze of blood.

“Get to cover,” yelled James.

James dove for the wall of the L-shaped floor. He got around the corner just as a bullet whizzed past him and shattered the large pane of glass behind him. The glass tumbled in a cascade of shards. He moved a foot and a shard of glass crunched underneath.

Diego managed to get behind the lectern of the maître d. James knew he wouldn’t last long there. He threw his weapon around the corner and raked the scene. Arms and legs hidden behind tables marked the locations of the civilians. James directed his fire between the screams, taking one narco to the ground.

“I’m pinned down,” Diego yelled above the din.

James let out another burst of fire.

Diego sprang forwards through a clutch of tables. He took refuge next to a man and his partner.

The narcos retreated towards the kitchens, hiding behind the heavy-duty door. The others in his party cowered in a small alcove. No signs of Alex.

“I’ll cover you,” James shouted.

He unleashed some fire at the narcos hidden behind the alcove. One went down with a bullet to the arm. Diego used the opportunity to get away from the family and inch towards the kitchens.

James knew he had to move. He couldn’t do much good from his position near the door as the battle made its way deeper into the restaurant. He took a deep breath and dove to the ground as more fire came his way. He crawled across the floor as a bullet splintered the wood of the table next to him.

Diego fired towards the alcove again. Little by little, the narcos lost their cover. Diego advanced with three-round bursts, massacring the cartel members. The last of them went down with an agonising scream.

“I’ve got them. The kitchens,” said Diego.

James got up and moved from overturned table to overturned table. He stepped over the corpse of a boy who barely looked over eighteen, a bullet straight through his neck, his shocked face still trying to make sense of it all.

“Diego, get down,” James cried out.

Diego ducked as a narco opened the kitchen door and fired. James heard the sickening cry of his comrade Diego. He lifted his weapon from the right and fired. The door provided no protection from his M4. The narco fell out of sight under his vengeful hail.

“Are you okay?”

Relief washed over him when he heard Diego cursing the narcos in Spanish. Crossing the restaurant floor looked treacherous. Narcos hiding out in the kitchen could easily pick him off.

“They only got me in the arm. It’s nothing,” said Diego.

James sighed. “I haven’t seen Parejo. Do we go in there?”

Diego crawled around the side of a table, one arm limp and bleeding and his gun in the other hand. “I can’t fire this with only one arm.”

“Shit,” said James. “Let me go alone.”

“Fuck, no, he’s not here,” said Diego through gritted teeth. “I didn’t