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

by accepting this showdown he had backed himself into a corner. With no help forthcoming, hope had become little more than a fading star on the edge of the night sky.

If they got it wrong, he wouldn’t get out of this alive.

Chapter Fifty-Six

The towering structures of Angkor Wat gleamed with ancient history. Eroding winds softened the features of the faces carved into the rocks. Dark stone bleached white by the relentless sun created strange colour combinations and odd shadows depending on the time of day.

“Is that a tree?” James jabbed his head at a temple to their right.

“Ta Prohm,” Sinclair explained. “The trees have grown undisturbed for centuries.”

James viewed Ta Prohm with wonder. An off-white tree of some kind had grown over a crumbling wall at least ten feet high. Its thick, skeletal roots climbed over the rock and formed its own miniature jungle canopy above them.

Their guide stayed quiet and maintained his distance. The squat man had a round face and a carefully shaved head of black hair. Every time they stopped, he would bark out their location and little else.

“Phnom Bakheng,” he said at last. “Why you want to go here? This for sunset. There’s no sunset now.”

“We’re archaeologists. It’s part of a private study,” Sinclair chipped in. “University of Oxford.”

The overweight Khmer nodded. “Okay, you enjoy very much.”

The two men left the tuk-tuk behind as they proceeded on foot. They were on the left side of the main Angkor Wat temple. Crowds descended upon every entrance like a plague of locusts. Elephants dressed in crowns of gold and red skirts were held to order by a sadistic Khmer with a long pole and sharp stick on the end. They threw their trunks to show their displeasure at being ridden but none dared put a foot out of the line-up.

“He’s right,” said James as they followed the steep jungle trail towards the temple. “There really is no one here before sunset.”

They soon lost sight of the rest of the complex as they climbed into the sky. The jungle pressed in around them on each side. In the humidity, both men became walking sweat stains.

“There’s a break in the trees.” Sinclair, suffering in the heat, pointed towards a spot where the path crested. “This is awful.”

James ignored his unfit partner and leapt up the path towards the viewpoint. The small gap in the jungle showed them to be far above sea level. The countryside stretched into eternity, with lakes, rice paddies, and an unblemished blue sky rolling away from them.

“I can’t see another way up,” James commented. “This must be the only way.”

Sinclair trudged up behind him and leaned for support on the information board. “I can’t take this much longer. It’s killing me. I should have taken the bloody elephant.”

James shrugged. “Less than halfway there. This looks like our best option.”

Sinclair opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. Phnom Bakheng sat at the top of a small mountain. The long, steep path curved around its side like threads of wool. Every opening seemed like a false summit.

The second half of the trek elevated them above the jungle. Atop the mountain were the ruins of a charred temple in the centre of a flat summit. These same stones would glitter with specks of gold come sunset. James wasted no time in approaching the deserted temple and hopping up the stone steps.

“Yes, yes,” Sinclair panted. “Plenty of levels. A lookout point. They won’t be able to surprise you.”

“You’re right. From up on the temple, there’s open ground, and then the path going down. No other openings.” James paced across the top of the temple. “Still, I don’t like my chances.”

“They won’t bring in heavy weapons or equipment. You can be sure of that.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“You’re not an enemy of the state. Narith will be misappropriating military equipment to attack you. He’ll bring his loyalists, and he’ll want to keep it quiet.”

“If he comes early enough, I’ll be the only person around for miles.”

Sinclair shook his head. “No, no, it would make too much noise. There are thousands of foreigners at any one time a couple of miles down the road. Attack helicopters and artillery couldn’t be used without blowing his cover.”

James saw the logic, but he still didn’t like the odds. The Cambodian army was hardly known for their proficiency, but numbers alone could overwhelm him. It depended on how seriously Shao took him. And he wouldn’t know that until the shooting started.

“Do we have enough to give me a chance?” asked James.

Sinclair walked to the edge of the temple. A sheer twenty-foot drop to the earth.

“There’s a chance,” said Sinclair. “Not much of one but a chance. In my expert opinion, the risk is too high. We should pull out. There must be another way.”

“But what other way? If there is one, I’d like to hear about it because I haven’t seen it yet.”

Sinclair’s mouth moved like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

“Then let’s do this. On the way down, I want you to map out all the choke points. Where I should make a stand and where I should run away. I’m relying on you for that, Sinclair.”

Sinclair only grunted in response. After mapping the main Phnom Bakheng temple, they returned to the main path. He recorded notes on his phone and would step off the path at intervals to examine a seemingly innocuous patch of foliage.

By the time they reached the bottom again, James had everything he was going to get. It would all come down to experience, skill, and dumb luck.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Phnom Penh, Phnom Penh Province, Cambodia

Dylan’s time with Song Wen consisted of little more than following him around. Song rarely left the luxury apartment