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

“So, you were already staking this place out the whole time?”

Scott approached him. “You bet. Romero is our business, not yours. We’re not going to let a foreign hitman interfere with our business on US soil.” He removed a set of handcuffs from his belt. He stood a few feet away from James. “Put your hands behind your head. You’re going to play nice, right?”

James moved his hands behind his head and lowered his other knee to the ground. How could they have been so stupid to not prepare for this?

Scott lowered his gun and stood behind James.

“Where are we going?” asked James.

“We’re taking you –”

James grabbed the glass cutter hidden behind his ankle and struck him across the face with it. The agent screamed in agony as he dropped his weapon. He hopped up with the cutter in hand and swung at Scott’s head. The FBI man couldn’t even raise his hands in time as the second and third blows came in, mangling his face like the grinder in a slaughterhouse.

James stood over Scott, his hands covered in blood, still holding the cutter. The agent still breathed. Each ragged intake of oxygen sounded like the wind rushing through a narrow canyon. This was one man he couldn’t allow to live. Picking up his suppressed pistol, he silenced Scott forever.

“Sinclair.” James tapped the radio. “The FBI are here. They’ve found me.”

“What?” Sinclair sounded panicked. “What happened?”

“I killed him, but he’s called in back up. We don’t have long.”

“Get out of there. We’ll think of another plan.”

“No,” James snapped. “I didn’t come this far only to back out now. Keep me updated. I’ll fight my way out.”

“With what? You only have a pistol and a sniper rifle. They’ll swarm you if you stay there. Get out of there.”

Sinclair’s words rang in his ears, but he didn’t care. Wiping his bloody hands on his trousers, he grabbed the sniper rifle and set the heavy gun in place. He tried to steady it as he looked through the scope for Romero. Whatever happened, he would take the shot.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Washington D.C., District of Colombia, United States of America

Blake watched the bank of computers with folded arms. Fresh off a plane from Mexico, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Data ran across most of the eight screens. It moved so fast he couldn’t read what any of it said. His favourite computer geek, Ryan Haley, typed away furiously on his keyboard.

“Where’s Romero?” asked Blake. “Did the FBI move in on him yet?”

“No. They say it’s tomorrow.”

Blake clasped his hands behind his back and observed the caged guinea pig on the table behind Ryan’s high-backed computer chair. Sprinkles the guinea pig made little chittering sounds as he hopped across the sawdust.

“Your friend Winchester is having a party in Miami it seems,” said Ryan.

Blake looked away from Sprinkles. “What are you talking about?”

The rogue FBI agent cracked his hands in front of him and wiped his glasses with the bottom of his rumpled shirt. “I’ve been tracking him as you told me since he arrived in Miami. He’s alerted the Bureau.”

Blake approached the computer screens again. None of the computer-speak on the screen said anything to Blake about James.

“I don’t understand.”

“The Bureau has put out an alert at the building here. It’s right across from Romero’s mansion. You don’t need to be intelligent to figure out what he might be doing there.”

“So, that’s what that bastard is doing. He’s trying to kill Romero, finish everything off for good.” Blake’s jaw hardened. “I’ll give him credit. He’s got balls. What’s the Bureau saying?”

“I can see more chatter in their systems.”

“You can see that much?” said Blake, impressed.

“It’s not hard.” Ryan grinned, displaying his coffee-stained teeth in the blue light of the computers. “Increased chatter means something has happened. Winchester must have been discovered.”

“Can we do anything from here?” said Blake.

Ryan shrugged. “Not really. It’ll be on local stations now. They should have backup converging on his location now.”

He thought about his next move. Blake hated James, but he couldn’t deny his skills or his uncanny luck. Part of him wanted James to fail. The FBI shooting or capturing James would be satisfying, but that wasn’t his destiny. Gallagher would be furious at losing one of their best agents. More importantly, if James were ever captured alive he might share any number of Blackwind’s secrets. Blake had to protect his livelihood.

“Put in a call to this number.” Blake slid a handwritten card in front of Ryan. “Tell him you’re from the FBI on my behalf. Coordinate with him. I want drones on that building. I’ll put an end to this.”

“You can’t send drones in on a residential area. That’s crazy.”

Blake raised his eyebrows. “A lot of crazy things happen. My guy in Miami is on standby, awaiting orders. Now, do it. We don’t have much time.”

Ryan took a deep intake of breath. He looked like he wanted to protest, but Blake had saved him a lot of trouble in the past. Now was the time to repay the favour.

“Are you going to help him or hurt him?” asked Ryan.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Chapter Sixty

Miami, Florida, United States of America

Fear paralysed James as he stared through the scope, hunting for his target. His arms shook from the adrenaline. Time was running out. The FBI were on their way. Doubt crept into the forefront of his mind. Would he even make it out of here?

“James, I can see some black cars in the parking lot. No lights.”

“Shut up,” James hissed.

James refocused on finding Romero. Through the scope, he saw his garden in every detail. The lights burned, illuminating everything from his pool to the pretentious