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

spun for a moment. How long had he been sitting down? He dismissed the vertigo as a lack of blood flow.

“Over there, my friend.” Qiu gestured to the little cubicle overflowing with urine.

Qiu gave it no thought as he trudged across the room. The spinning grew worse and his vision began to blur. He felt drunk, even though he’d had nothing but fruit juice. It didn’t make any sense. He reached out against the cubicle to prevent himself from falling. Qiu took in deep breaths. Maybe the bad air had taken its toll on him?

He looked back at Prak, who had already begun to stand. There was no concern on his face. Then it dawned on him. Prak had lured him into a trap. Qiu reached for the gun hidden in his suit jacket. His movement seemed to slow to a crawl.

Then the floor rushed up to meet him. His body tipped forward. His heavy eyelids closed.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Phnom Penh, Phnom Penh Province, Cambodia

The four men spent the better part of the day hatching plans. Blake still hadn’t answered Sinclair’s summons. He no longer responded to any calls. Each time, the phone continued to ring, he grew angrier with every attempt. James could only speculate on what Blake had cooked up.

A tuk-tuk pulled up outside the Riverside Guesthouse. It blared its horn, dragging everyone’s attention towards it.

“Mr. James!” Nhek called happily from atop the bike. “Mr. James, how are you?”

James tried to raise a smile as Nhek jogged over to him and shook his hand with a fury.

“Mr. James, how are you? You like Cambodia?”

“Yes, Nhek. I do.” James’ eyes refocused on a girl in the back of the tuk-tuk dressed in a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans. “Who’s that?”

“Ah, Mr. James. I bring you a friend. Barangs need friends in Cambodia. Many friends.”

James thought about it for a second. “Wait, what?”

“I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing,” Adam smirked. “Bit early in the day, though, don’t you think?”

James' cheeks went pink. “Nhek, I don’t want a prostitute.”

“No, no, prostitution is no good here. She’s not a prostitute. She’s Chantou. I bring Chantou here to help you.”

His compatriots at the table were now openly snickering at his predicament. Although Nhek continued to grin in that innocent Khmer way, he didn’t realise every sentence that left his mouth sounded like a euphemism.

“Nhek, no.” James raised a finger. “No.”

Nhek looked crestfallen. “You don’t want friends? But she help you. She help you. You remember the Palace? She come from the Palace. Everyone know the Palace.”

“Christ,” James muttered.

“You come. You come. It not good to leave a woman waiting.” Nhek grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the tuk-tuk. “She very good friend to you.”

James allowed himself to be dragged towards the woman. She gave him a shy smile. The closer he got the more he thought he recognised her. Without the makeup and the cocktail dress, Chantou looked like a completely different person.

“Chantou, this is Mr. James. You must remember Mr. James?”

“I do,” she replied in silky English. “I worked for Mr. Chea for five years. He’s a very bad man. Thank you, Mr. James.”

“Just James, please. Don’t worry about it. It’s just part of my job.”

“I wanted to tell you, Mr. James, you saved my life. So, I deleted the video when you go. Some men come and they check cameras, but they find nothing. I did it for you. Thank you.”

“Oh.” James gulped. “Well, thank you. If there’s anything else I can do for you, just tell me.”

James grew tongue-tied as the words tumbled out. In his line of work, nobody ever thanked him for the lives he took. He preferred that nobody knew anything about his work at all. He didn’t know how to react to admirers.

“You did everything for me. Nhek says you are looking for someone else.”

James cast a vicious look at Nhek, which he returned with the same silly smile.

“I talk to Preap, another friend. He says he can help you. But don’t mention Mr. Chea. He always likes to spit.” Chantou shivered.

“You get in, Mr. James. We go to Preap now. He help you.”

“How can he help me? I thought he only worked at the Palace and that was it.”

Nhek had already started climbing back onto his bike, gesturing at him to get in.

Chantou shuffled back to allow James to get in. The moment he placed his foot on the side of the tuk-tuk, a boisterous cheer exploded from the three mercenaries he was leaving behind. James blushed again as Nhek waved frantically at his colleagues as the tuk-tuk whirled around and started its journey back to the river.

The journey only took them ten minutes. On a crowded stretch of river, Nhek brought the tuk-tuk to a halt. His passengers climbed out and waited at the top of the hill, scanning the banks for the figure of Preap. To James, the homeless all looked much the same.

“There he is. I go.” Nhek bounded down the hill and clapped Preap on the back.

Preap turned around and raised a hand in salute to them, before throwing himself at the hill and leaping up it like a gazelle.

“James, good to see you again.” Preap shook his hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met since Mr. Chea.” True to form, he spat an enormous globule of spit down the hill. “I couldn’t have been more pleased to find out that it was over. So many years of hoping and then it finally happened.”

“Nothing to it. Chantou here said you were able to help me.”

“Ah, yes. This is something I find difficult to talk about.” Preap moved towards the tuk-tuk and perched himself on its side. “To tell you the truth, my life is