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

don’t move soon, the client will be very unhappy. And if the client is very unhappy, we’re going to be very, very unhappy. You get my meaning?”

Sinclair nodded, finally understanding. “Who is the client?”

“None of your god damn business. I’m just telling you that we’re out of time. Quezada has to go. We can’t wait anymore.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Sinclair.

“Get Quezada here. I don’t care how you do it. Just get him here.”

Chapter Forty-Five

The sound of a powerful engine awoke James from his doze on the balcony of the hacienda. He stopped for a moment, his pulse pounding in his ears, searching for the source of the noise. He popped up from his chair, his hand already on his pistol.

Should he wake Jessi? No, he didn’t want to scare her. He crouched down and put a single eye above the balcony wall. The sun had just crested above the horizon. A black 4x4 with blacked-out windows and an aura of viciousness charged through the gate. The sunrise glinted off the hood of the car.

It could only mean one thing. His adrenalin soared. Quezada had managed to catch him out. James continued to spy on the car, hoping they wouldn’t sense anything untoward.

He watched four men climb out of the car. None of them looked like Quezada. He gritted his teeth and snuck into Jessi’s room. He still had a few minutes before Quezada would notice something amiss.

Jessi continued to sleep soundly, a peaceful expression on her face. He reached out a hand and brushed her cheek lightly. Her eyes, like two deep chocolate pools, opened to him.

“Mmmm?” She barely moved.

“I need you to get up and take the gun I gave you. It’s Quezada.”

A look of terror came into her face and she threw the covers aside. James stepped backwards as she stood in the dimly lit room dressed only in her underwear. Jessi seemed unperturbed by his presence as she seized her gun from the drawer of her night table and loaded it.

James thought about stepping outside, but something rooted him to the spot. Jessi took her time dressing. He kept switching his gaze between Jessi and the outside. He hadn’t heard a noise yet. Quezada must be taking his time.

He made a mental picture of the hacienda’s layout, including the wing where Aunt Camilia slept. This was home turf for Quezada.

“Which one is Quezada?” asked James.

Jessi balanced on one foot as she shoved her leg into her pants. “He has black hair, not shaved. He uses gel on it, lots of it. High cheekbones and a straight nose. Too straight. It used to be a hook.”

“What colour are his eyes?”

“Blue.”

“Blue, good. Rare for a Mexican.”

“What are you going to do?” Jessi zipped up her pants.

“I don’t know yet. For now, stay quiet and stay out of sight. This is a big house. It gives us an advantage. Don’t shoot unless you absolutely have to, or until you hear me shooting, okay?”

Jessi’s mouth hung slightly open.

He stepped forwards and embraced her. “Be strong. You can do it.”

Jessi nodded into his chest.

“Go. Into the north side of the house. It’ll give us some time.”

They emerged back out onto the balcony. James no longer saw Quezada and his men, but he couldn’t hear their rage either. They still had the jump on them.

“Slowly,” James whispered. “Don’t make any noise.”

Jessi raised her hand to her mouth as if she wanted to break and cry. She obeyed James and wandered away to the opposite side of the house. James bit his lip as he wondered whether he could keep her safe. He couldn’t afford a shootout. Despite her practise, he couldn’t teach combat experience.

He took a deep breath and closed the door of Jessi’s room. It may give them a few precious seconds.

A violent Spanish curse slashed the early morning quiet. James watched as Jessi increased her pace and disappeared into another room. For now, she was safe. But for how long?

James headed for the lower levels, into the maze of rooms snaking around the hacienda, listening for any signs of the four narcos out for blood. His thoughts kept moving back to Jessi, cowering in the darkness. He couldn’t allow them to get to her. He’d promised to keep her safe. It was a pledge to her, a pledge to Montoya.

He crept through a living room when he heard a thump. James threw himself behind the sofa, aiming his pistol, ready to strike. A shadow fell across the room, illuminated by the alien green light emanating from the aquarium.

Heavy footsteps made their way into the room. James froze as he peeked out at the intruder. The man gripped a gun. The ghoulish light illuminated the side of his face. Not Quezada.

James stalked the man as he crept through the room. He inched his way to the other side of the sofa. The man turned his head away from him. James leapt out and seized the man around the neck. Pressing his forearm into the front of his windpipe, he clutched the man in a death hug.

The big man stumbled backwards. James fell into the wall. His head snapped back against the concrete. A shooting pain erupted through the back of his skull, but he never let go. The edge of his arm pressed as the man struggled for breath. James held on tighter as the fight drained out of his quandary.

Quezada’s man opened his mouth as if to call for help. Only a gurgling sound squeezed out of his throat. The death rattle. James cranked on his arm one final time and the man went limp. James let him sink to the floor.

He released out a great puff of air and shook out his arm. The feeling returned