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

James allowed Diego to take up a crouched position next to the window. He held back a little to avoid the rocket pointing through the window and alerting Vargas to their position.

The hammering on the doors downstairs and the sound of breaking glass snapped James out of his daze.

“I’m sorry I won’t get to see this.” James patted him on the shoulder.

“Wait, use the gun under the other cover.”

James rushed to the bed and pulled off the cover to reveal a Benelli M4 shotgun. Unlike the pump-action shotguns, it was semi-automatic, offering a rapid rate of fire. He put down his favoured AR-15 and donned the shotgun for the close-quarter combat to come. He heard another sound of shattering glass from the back and Spanish curses echoing through the halls. They’d broken into the house.

He sprinted out of the bedroom and towards the main landing. Standing above the bannisters, he had a clear view of the bottom steps. James calculated how quick they’d try to run and whether the Benelli would take them out in time.

Positioning his gun on the edge of the bannisters, he waited. He heard the sound of footsteps rampaging through the lower level of the house. James wiped his brow as the tension ramped up. The screaming and the shouting grew closer. James took control of his breath, keeping a steady rhythm.

A shadow appeared. The men rushed in single file up the steps. James fired a single blast. Two of them went flying backwards as the buckshot wiped them out. The third man struggled to get away and James blasted him too. He screamed and went down. The moans told him he’d survived.

James steeled himself to take on the fourth. An earth-shattering explosion made his head snap towards Diego’s room.

“Got it,” Diego shouted in triumph.

The whole battle paused for a moment. The deep breath before the plunge into renewed hostilities.

“They’re coming through the gate.”

James didn’t wait to continue this game of cat and mouse. He jumped out onto the top step and fired another round straight into the unsuspecting narco hiding behind cover.

He darted back up the steps to Diego’s room. He threw the shotgun back on the bed and reequipped his trusty AR-15. One peek through the window and he saw the troops storming through the broken gate. The mangled remains of the narco tank burned, the occupants’ corpses cooking like a barbeque.

Diego pushed him out of the way. “Next positions. There’s too many of them.”

Together, they grabbed all the guns and ammo they could as they moved to their next predetermined position. Across from the steps, adjacent to the bay window, they’d set up cover using the furniture. It wouldn’t do much to stop high-powered bullets, but it was enough to give them an advantage.

“I want you on the right side,” said James. “Let me take the left.”

Diego rushed to his position, an animalistic look in his eyes. The left side had the least amount of cover. James didn’t care. Diego had already taken one for the team in León. This time he would take the risk.

“Wait for them to file out and unload on them,” said Diego.

It only took a few seconds for Vargas and his men to storm the rooms downstairs and their compatriots lying dead.

When James saw the first narco, he engaged the AR-15 and destroyed him. Not one of them could hope to survive the high-powered bullets.

Diego cackled as he screamed at them to do their worst. High on the excitement of battle, his white teeth gleamed in the dull morning.

Vargas’ men made another charge; James and Diego responded. The bodies dropped like dominoes, some falling backwards, some falling forwards with lifeless fingers resting on their sacred ground.

“We can do this all day,” said Diego. “All day.”

James didn’t relish battle like Diego did. He kept his sight on his red dot. The next wave didn’t come. He still heard them shouting and talking. James readjusted his grip to see what they would bring next when a flaming bottle flew up the steps and onto the second level.

The glass smashed and the petrol burst into flames, sending orange tendrils skittering across the floor. James lowered his gun. There wouldn’t be a third wave. They wouldn’t try to fight them man-to-man.

“They’re trying to burn us out,” said Diego. “Quick, there’s another exit across the room. It’ll take us down into the kitchen.”

“Vargas knows that. He’ll be waiting for us there.”

“What other choice do we have?”

“What about Martina and Juliana? They’re in the annex.”

“Fuck them. I’m not dying for them.”

James shook his head. “You cover the other way up. I’ll get them.”

“What?”

He tore towards the steps leading up to the final floor of the house. These steps were steeper, and James felt his thighs working overtime as he leapt up them. The fire already started to chew its way through the wooden floors and fragile walls.

James burst in and found Martina cradling Vargas’ mother. She’d covered her face with the blanket she liked to wrap around her during the night. Martina stared stony-faced at a spot on the wall, neither crying nor keeping calm.

“We need to get out of here. They’ve set a fire.”

Martina trained her gaze on him. “How? She can barely walk.”

“I don’t care if you have to drag her by the hair. You stay here, you’ll die. This is your last chance. Now move.”

Martina stood and forced Juliana to her feet. The pitiful old woman wailed. The blanket slipped for a moment and James saw a trail of endless tears. It was obvious to him she didn’t understand what was going on.

He wouldn’t let the two women die, but he wouldn’t sacrifice himself for them either. James headed back down the steps as the young