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

carbine slung across his legs, his back to a crumbling statue; they’d brought the weapon as some heavy backup.  James approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The young American twitched as James squatted down beside him. The mosquitoes had left his exposed neck littered with angry red bites.

“You see anything strange?” asked James.

“I heard a lot of things,” Dylan replied. “I felt strange. Like someone was just out of sight watching us the whole time.”

James’ stomach turned at Dylan’s report. A novice though he was, a mercenary’s instinct never let him down. Maybe they weren’t alone after all. Had Dylan been the only man to spot it?

“Wait until Preap and the rest wake up and tell them.”

“No,” Dylan hissed under his breath. “None of them will believe me. They know I haven’t taken on a whole lot of assignments.”

“Your choice.”

First light brought a strange, cold film that slid over the mountains and forests. The sun, still below the horizon, gave the land a sense of foreboding. James tried to imagine if a few errant villagers had stumbled upon their camp and became curious. As he looked into the impenetrable emerald wall, he saw only death waiting.

“You keep your eyes open. Preap knows everything there is to know about these mountains.”

James gave Dylan a reassuring pat on the shoulder and straightened up.

He turned to find a pair of eyes staring at him. Preap, who had spent the night propped up against the steps, opened his eyes, instantly filling his vision. Always, the man was watching him.

Preap gestured at him to follow. He bounded to his feet with little more than a soft thud and began walking into the temple. James followed, taking care to avoid waking Adam and Blake.

He led him through the broken rooms, the treasures long since looted. Moss and roots had invaded the structure, leaving little green tripwires everywhere. Preap took him to a back room, deep inside the temple. It appeared like all the others but for a selection of nooks carved into the walls.

“The monks would have slept here.” Preap’s voice bounced through the room.

“A long time since anyone came in here,” James said in a vague attempt at sounding interested. “I’ve got something to tell you —”

“Shhht.” Preap raised a hand. “Me, first, if you please.”

James went silent and shrugged his shoulders.

“You’ve done so much for me, Mr. Winchester. I want you to know that. I know not all of us will survive this. The odds are against us. That’s why I want to give you something.”

James cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you know the Khmer Rouge once used this temple during the 1980s?” Preap dropped to his knees and fumbled with a loose brick. “I was here. I hid something I’d like you to have.”

Preap pried the brick free. A black abyss opened before him. He reached into it and pulled out a simple metal box. He wiped the encrusted dirt from the lid and opened it. From it, he pulled out three canisters. They rattled as he offered them to James.

“Cyanide capsules.”

“Cyanide?” James’ shook the canisters. “Why would I want that?”

“Listen, the Khmer Rouge are brutal. They won’t kill you. They’ll torture you until you beg them to kill you. Don’t go out like that.”

“Are you joking? I’m not committing suicide, Preap.”

Preap’s serious expression didn’t waver. “These are old, but a handful should do the job. If we’re captured, this is mercy.”

James didn’t feel like arguing with Preap. He wouldn’t take cyanide. He wouldn’t contemplate suicide. When a mercenary thought of death, it would come true. He pocketed two canisters, with Preap taking the other one.

“Just one question, why would you give me this and not the others?”

“It’s a gift. You’re the only one I care enough about. The others mean nothing to me.”

James nodded. “Dylan told me he felt like someone was watching us last night.”

“What did he see?”

“Nothing. It was just a feeling. In my business, you learn to take feelings like that seriously.”

Preap nodded.

“What could it mean? You said we were too far down for them to know we’re here.”

“I don’t know. It could have been anyone. I’ll tell everyone to stay on their guard today. The Khmer Rouge has spies in these mountains. The villagers sometimes supply them with information.”

“What about the driver from yesterday?”

Preap dusted off his hands and wiped them on the back of his trousers. “It’s possible he could have said something.

James tightened his jaw as Preap moved past him to return to the camp. He couldn’t imagine why Preap remained so calm in the face of this unsettling news. A strange feeling probed at his mind. Was Preap as trustworthy as they thought?

When James came lumbering down the broken steps, he found everyone had awoken. Shafts of light broke through the forest canopy. A warm glow hugged him as he shielded his eyes.

“How far have we got to go?” asked Blake.

“The driver managed to take us a good distance. It’s all uphill from here. We move slowly. These trails aren’t safe.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” Blake muttered.

James waited for Preap to announce what Dylan had felt the night before. He never did. Everyone packed their things, checked their weapons, and smacked the mud out of the crevices of their boots. He tried to catch Preap’s eye. Alarm bells rang.

The group pushed on through the forested mountains in silence. The flat road began to incline. Stone steps built centuries ago were the last vestiges of the outside world. The last of the trail took them over mud and fallen leaves.

After a couple of hours, the group panted, dripping with sweat. Only Preap – the only man without body armour – kept moving without pause. The foreigners begged for rest at intervals. Preap urged