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

Shao nodded. “I have to be honest and say that I would have liked Prak to survive at least through the coup. But Sambath’s death made things rather difficult for us. Prak became unstable and gave me the impression that he wouldn’t be able to follow my orders. This was a job that had to be done at some point. A pity it had to come now.”

“What would you like me to do next?”

Shao leered at him. “There are so many things to do. However, for now, you’ll be staying in Phnom Penh.” He pressed a button on his phone sitting next to his knee. A Chinese voice answered.

Dylan didn’t understand a word of what Shao said. He tried to decipher some meaning from Shao’s facial expressions, but they never changed. Only when he pressed another button to end the call did Shao lift his gaze again.

“I am going to introduce you to someone who will play an important role in our plans.”

The door opened and a man who appeared completely unremarkable entered the room. He bowed his head to them both.

“Song, this is Dylan Howser, a foreigner helping us to make our plans a reality. Dylan, this is Song Wen, the future ruler of Cambodia.”

Dylan raised his eyebrows.

Shao smiled gently. “From behind the curtain, of course. We could never have someone from China acting as the public face of Cambodia. It would only invite the world’s attention and cause significant disruption to our operations.”

Song didn’t come to shake Dylan’s hand in the Western fashion. He crossed to his left side, where another cushion waited. After removing his shoes, Song bowed to both of them again and sat on the cushion with his knees tucked underneath him.

“What do you want me to do, Mr. Fen?” asked Dylan.

“We don’t know what Sen and his agents know about me or our plans. For this reason, I need to be cautious or Song will become a target. If I were them, I would want to assassinate Song to set back my plans.”

“I’d go along with that.”

“Good. Then you will act as his bodyguard until after the coup. When General Narith takes power, events will move quickly. Song will have his own detachment of guards, but until that time, I’ll need to make do with you and Song’s driver.”

He said the words as if there was some unspoken animosity accorded by this extra responsibility. Dylan couldn’t decipher any of it. Shao shared little. Sir Richard even less. He wasn’t party to the real extent of China’s plans for Cambodia.

“Mr. Howser, tell me about your friend… Mr. Winchester.”

Dylan tilted his head. He felt queasy as he realised the mistake he’d made. The two men had developed a healthy respect for each other, but they were still working for opposite sides. He never should have mentioned James’ name at all.

“Mr. Howser? Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t know much about him.” Dylan blurted out. “All I know is he’s an Englishman who works for Blackwind. We didn’t exchange any personal details. It’s considered unprofessional.”

Shao let the words settle for a few seconds before inclining his head. “Very well, Mr. Howser. You may go.”

Dylan stood and bowed to both men in an Asian show of respect. He couldn’t get out of the room quickly enough, throwing on his shoes and crushing the backs as he stumbled out of the room. Did Shao think he was hiding something? He had to assume so. He had to warn James that Shao would be hunting him soon enough.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Phnom Penh, Phnom Penh Province, Cambodia

Wat Phnom marked the perfect geographical centre of the historical city of Phnom Penh. Built upon a hill, a golden stupa rose into the sky to pierce the mist of pollution drifting above the city streets.

James and Sinclair arrived outside the gardens in Nhek’s tuk-tuk. These days, James felt like Nhek was one of the few people inside this country he could trust.

“You be careful,” said Nhek. “Thom is a bad, bad man.”

“Not to worry,” said James. “We’ll be fine here.”

A low iron fence protected the picturesque gardens, and a line of koki trees formed a natural barrier, keeping the space sacred.

“You know,” said Sinclair as they moved towards the entrance. “I’m surprised you trust Nhek so easily. He wasn’t completely honest with us.”

“Just because I trust him easily doesn’t mean I trust him fully. If he has a problem with Thom that’s not our business.”

“Still, we don’t want him to interfere.”

“He won’t. He already drove Thom without trying to slaughter him, so we have nothing to worry about.”

Sinclair made a low humming sound from the depths of his throat. “If you say so.”

Thom had agreed to meet them in front of the central pagoda of Wat Phnom. The two of them handed a dollar bill each to the ticket inspector standing outside the entrance.

The central pagoda, complete with colourful prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, sat high above them. A long set of stone steps climbed to the top. A pair of seashell sculptures stood sentry over the bottom steps. Tourists crowded the temple complex. James and Sinclair manoeuvred around the visitors on the steps as they thrust their selfie sticks high into the air.

Sinclair stopped halfway up the steep climb, his breathing ragged and sweat beading on his forehead.

“Come on, Sinclair. It’s only a few steps.”

Sinclair stood with his hands on his hips gazing wistfully at the way up. “I’m not designed for this. I wanted to be in intelligence.”

James crested the steps well ahead of Sinclair. The set of flags twisting up a long bronze pole rustled as a breeze whipped through the temple.

A flourish of gold decorated the pagoda, with sunburned orange tiles covering the sloping roof. Two