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

would have lied and said you were busy. I knew if I staked out your house first, I could tell if you were lying to me or not. In any case, we are going to meet Mario later this morning at a small café downtown. I want us to be prepared.”

James fumbled in his pockets for his large orange-and-white-coloured box of Chesterfield cigarettes.

“Last night, Santa Maria de Guadalupe launched an attack against La Familia Celaya in Valenciana just north of here. Did you hear anything about that?”

James shook his head. “You can’t really hear gunshots in Valenciana from here. It’s on the other side of the valley. The only time I heard anything was when those tourists got shot in front of the big church.” He pointed at the large red church sticking to the yellowed hills like a scab. “You can see it from here.”

“Well, Santa Maria de Guadalupe destroyed them. At least four dead. They brought one of their narco tanks up there and took them by surprise. There was some meeting going on and they found out about it.”

James nodded with interest. He’d read about the narco trucks before. They were the heavy armour of the cartels. Ordinary trucks plated with metal to form improvised armoured divisions. Occasionally, they sent them out into the open during larger conflicts against the police and other cartels.

He puffed away on his cigarette, the end glowing like an evil eye. “And Mario?”

“Mario’s fine. He was in Celaya. I called him as soon as I found out what happened. He was angry, really angry. Try not to antagonise him today because I feel like this is a man with a short fuse. If we lose Mario, we will never be able to make an alliance with his cartel.”

The door to the garden slammed. James’ head snapped around. He’d left his gun in the house, next to his bed.

His shoulders sagged when he saw his landlord’s wife appear to do the gardening. James greeted the spindly middle-aged woman in Spanish. She returned the greeting and immediately headed for the room where she kept her supplies. It didn’t take long for the incessant scrape of bristles upon concrete to shatter the tranquillity of the morning.

“Should we go elsewhere?” asked Sinclair.

“No, no, she doesn’t speak a word of English. It doesn’t matter.”

“Good. To tell you the truth, Mario almost pulled out. I think he has cold feet about trusting us, even with the amount of money involved. I came here to tell you that because I think he will want more than money. He will want you to prove yourself to him before he gives you the access we need.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Prove myself?”

“You know, intervene on their behalf. Kill one of Quezada’s men. To let him know we have taken a side and it’s in Rodriguez’s interest for him to work with us. We can win him his war.”

James hit the flat of his hand on his thigh. “No, never.”

“But I gave him your word. We work for a private military organisation. We have to take sides sometimes to get what we want. That means doing things we’re not proud of. Besides, why are you being so precious about this now? Have you gone soft lately?”

James stubbed his cigarette out with such force the burning end broke free of the filter. “Political ideals are one thing. I don’t care what people believe. Drugs are a dirty business, and I don’t want to be an instrument in helping one cartel dominate an area so they can flood it with more drugs and death.”

Sinclair gave him a cheeky smile. “Since when did you develop these dangerous ideas?”

James had no desire to discuss his reasoning with Sinclair. Sinclair had never cared about what they did and why. He, on the other hand, had principles. His boss, Joseph Cecil Gallagher, had saved him from a military prison and recruited him, but that didn’t mean he would obey his every word. He was still human.

“You need to pull yourself together.” Sinclair stretched himself out in the chair. “That’s the price of his trust. Without him, we have no way to deal with Quezada. If you have a problem with supporting the cartels, see it as wiping a piece of mindless drug-dealing filth from the face of the Earth.”

James lit another cigarette. He didn’t buy into Sinclair’s attempts to convince him of the righteousness of the cause. Nevertheless, James had done this long enough to know his job required him to deviate from his own moral lines on occasion. For the greater good, as people within the organisation would tell him.

“I’ll do it if I have to. But if this Mario betrays me, I’ll liquidate him on a matter of principle.”

“You’re more than welcome to do what you want with Mario after we have what we need. You don’t think I enjoy biting my tongue around a narco and pretending I’m good friends with them, do you?”

“Is there anything else you wanted to say?”

“Nothing much. We are meeting him for breakfast at a small café, so you may as well get ready now. I want to scope out the area before he arrives.”

James sighed and dismissed him with a flick of his finger. Sinclair, knowing him too well, chuckled and left him to his thoughts.

Chapter Four

The sleepy café on the edge of the central district welcomed few customers. It did, however, boast a peaceful garden in a private courtyard. Iron tables and chairs littered the uneven ground. A stone fountain with an indecipherable face carved into the wall bubbled away. James paced around the café, peering into the indoor seating areas to check for potential ambushes.

“Narrow,” said James. “Lots of bottlenecks. Only one entrance and exit. It could be a trap.”

Sinclair scanned the small area. “We are