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

a halt. James gritted his teeth. His humanity willed him to pull back. This wasn’t right. How could he justify to his maker the shooting of a man in front of his child?

James broke and threw himself out from cover. He aimed the gun through the bars. His arms steady. Kravaan stopped in his tracks. For the first time, his eyes pulled away from his beloved daughter.

James fired. Kravaan’s soldier instincts failed him. He didn’t move, frozen in time. The bullet hit him square in the chest from just a few feet away. Another two bullets followed, putting Captain Kravaan down for good.

James lingered for a couple of seconds. Kravaan didn’t move. He fled on foot back up the street.

Dogs barked; the distant screams of panic erupted from the villas of these sheltered people. All James heard was Kravaan’s daughter screaming and crying. Those sounds followed him like a chasing ghoul. They never grew quieter. James sprinted away, desperate to escape what he’d done.

To his horror, Nhek continued to wait for him. The Khmer’s smile had gone. The light had left his eyes. James saw the judgement behind the steel expression.

“Mr. James? What you do?” asked Nhek.

“I told you. It was business. Just like Mr. Chea and Tep Prak.”

“Okay, Mr. James. You need tuk-tuk?”

“No, Nhek. Just get away from here before the police arrive, okay?”

“Yes, Mr. James.”

The vicious buzz of motorcycles sliced at the air. James spun around in time as two motorbikes rounded the corner.

“Get down!”

James seized Nhek around the neck and dragged him off the tuk-tuk. He forced the struggling driver into the ground as bullets assaulted their position. They hammered into the heavy tuk-tuk.

The riders zoomed away. James threw himself off Nhek. His adrenaline pumped like water from a broken spigot. This wasn’t the end.

“Come on, get on my bike.”

“Mr. James,” Nhek cried. “My tuk-tuk.”

“It’s too slow. They’ll come back. You drive.”

James clapped him on the back as Nhek removed the kickstand and revved the bike. He heard the ominous throom of the two bikes about to make another killing pass.

He jumped onto the back of the bike and commanded Nhek to drive. They soared away from the tuk-tuk and barrelled onto the boulevards. He gazed behind him and saw the two bikes make a beeline for them.

“Where I go, Mr. James?” Nhek’s voice trembled. “Where I go?”

“Calm down, you’ll be fine with me. Just wait until we lose them. Drive anywhere.”

“But it’s not safe.”

“Just do it.”

They soon left the neighbourhood and entered Phnom Penh’s confusing set of main roads that formed the veins of the city and always promised chaos.

The two assailants were already gaining fast. James fired a warning shot down their gullets. The two bikes veered and took up flanking positions.

“Make a turn,” said James.

Nhek turned into another residential street. He seemed to understand. The tuk-tuk driver piloted the vehicle like an extension of himself. James remained perfectly balanced on the back.

“We need to get on the main roads. Get out of this neighbourhood.”

“I know, Mr. James, I know.”

They turned another corner onto the entrance to the main roads. The ping of a bullet followed them.

At each turn, Nhek strained to put some distance between them and their assailants.

“We lose them, Mr. James,” said Nhek as they pulled onto a busy intersection.

“Not yet. They’re not stupid. Keep going.”

James’ words came true as they gunned it. Behind them, the hunters suddenly appeared over the rise. The mess of Phnom Penh’s traffic slowed everyone down.

Tuk-tuks, luxury cars, trucks belching poisonous fumes into the air. The scrum required blind overtaking, sudden braking, and curses flying like magic spells across each lane.

Bullets flew yet again. The bikes crept closer. Nhek responded by shifting gears and accelerating.

James turned to stare down his assailants, took aim and fired a shot. The bike jerked at the last minute as if the rider knew.

“They’re getting too close. Where does this road lead?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. James.” Nhek was playing with his life as much as James was playing with his. He forced the bike across the lanes like a spear and emerged onto the oncoming lane.

James saw bumpers hurtling towards him. He caught the wild-eyed looks of each driver flying past them. James could only close his eyes and pray.

“You’re going to kill us. Get off this road.”

James looked back at the two riders. They hadn’t the stones to follow them into oncoming traffic. Instead, they hunted them on the opposite side, like two lions stalking their prey.

Nhek dodged away from an oncoming bus and dove towards a junction with a lull in traffic. He made it by an inch. James steadied himself as the air whooshed past him. Feelings of nausea bubbled around in his stomach. He sensed the rate of his own mortality rising by the second.

James thought about making a stand. This couldn’t go on forever. If they didn’t shoot him, they would see him smashed into pieces by a bus.

The streets narrowed, and Nhek started taking dangerous detours through the alleys. An old man towing a handcart like a beast of burden almost obliterated them with his cargo of mangos.

Once again, the riders appeared, tracking them like lasers. James clenched his teeth and fired at them down a narrow alley. The bullet struck paydirt, and James watched the bike shoot forwards out of control. The front wheel bounced off the ground and the bike flipped into the air. The rider hit the ground like a rag doll before Nhek turned the corner.

“I got one,” said James.

“Police, Mr. James.”

James saw a blue light parked off to the right. He didn’t need more chumps baying for blood. Firing at the cop’s bike, he watched a bullet strike a wheel, deflating the tyre.