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

“They’re calling in backup,” Sinclair said over the radio. “Another car just arrived.”

James didn’t reply as every floor became a battle. Every step became a step toward freedom. Bullets assaulted him every couple of seconds, embedding themselves in the wall and pinging off the metal railings. He returned fire. Every time he hit someone another agent would replace him.

Like a spreading virus, he couldn’t whittle the FBI down. James pulled out Scott’s gun to avoid reloading and fired from the second floor. One agent collapsed to the floor, blood spurting from his chest.

James ducked behind cover again as the FBI returned fire. “I need help. I can’t get out.”

“There’s nothing I can do. You’re trapped. Either go through or go back.”

“I can’t go back.” James fired again from his position. “I’ll never make it down.”

The whole building shook. Everyone lost their footing. Was that an earthquake?

“What was that?” James used the opportunity to inch his way down towards the door. The agents backed away. “Sinclair? Are you there?”

“I’m here. The side of the building just exploded. I don’t know what it was. It was like a bomb. The FBI are retreating.”

James smelt thick smoke above his head. The fire alarm continued to wail in hope, but he could already feel the heat coming from the heavens. He followed the agents with a half-crouched stance. What could have caused part of the skyscraper to explode?

He kicked at the door that went into the lobby. The FBI continued their fighting retreat. James sent a couple of return shots back, catching one of them in the leg. The door opposite him had a fiery orange glow shining onto the pavement outside.

James made a run for it, throwing himself across the lobby. The bullets pinged off the wall and the elevator doors to his side. He dove for cover. He didn’t have much time.

“Don’t come out into the parking lot,” said Sinclair. “Go around the back. I’ll pick you up.”

James tried to make a mental note of his location. How long would it take for the professionals of the Bureau to recover from the shock?

He didn’t have time to think about it. Throwing his shoulder against the glass doors, the blazing air from outside spurred him on further. He ran straight across the path and dove down the little grass verge on the other side. He spotted the dark treeline and the fence just beyond it.

“I’m running out of the back. There’s a fence here,” said James.

“Alright. Get over it quick. You’ll see the water on the other side. There’s a canal there. Can you swim across it?”

James didn’t know, but the firing had stopped. No vengeful FBI agents were calling for his blood. He pressed himself against the chain-link fence and scaled it. Each effort caused his chest to ache. It took mere seconds for him to drop down on the grass behind him. He peered out from behind the trees as the whirr of a helicopter’s rotors circled above the burning building.

“There’s a helicopter above me,” cried James. “Where are you?”

“I’m going around now. They won’t find me. Can you get across the canal?”

“It’s too risky. The private security from the island might be coming down on their speedboats. It’ll take me too long to swim across. I need a plan B.”

Sinclair cursed. “You can follow the trees around. I saw on the satellite photos another road away from Billionaire Bunker. If you can get there, I can meet you, but they might lock down the area.”

“Screw it. I’ll swim. They’ll be spreading out into the streets.”

“Fine. I know where you can get out, just go straight on from the canal straight to the street. Your radio might not work if it’s in the water too long.”

James dove into the water. He was a strong swimmer, but he wouldn’t win any records. The icy cold water enveloped him like a black mass. James croaked as the shock stopped his breath cold.

He gritted his teeth and began to swim, avoiding the lights of the shore. It was only a few hundred metres to the opposite shore, but every metre felt like agony after the battle he’d gone through. The saltwater seared all the little cuts and bruises. It took all his willpower and all his experience to stay focused and keep swimming.

“I’m halfway across. Can you hear me?”

“Still loud and clear.”

James heard another sound. The dreaded approach of a speedboat. He tilted his head to the side and saw the light in the distance. The glare almost blinded him. Closing his eyes, he plunged deep into the water. The ambient noise turned the engine into a dull thud, but he could still feel the currents parting as the boat cut the water in half.

He counted seconds in his head to distract himself. How long could he hold his breath before he had to resurface? Thoughts of drowning entered his head as the droning motor never seemed to cease.

James opened his eyes and saw only a glimpse of blackness with a few bobbing lights on land. He squeezed his eyes shut and swam to the surface again. A white light from the shore guided him. This one time, he resolved to move towards the light. Every foot made things clearer and brighter before he surfaced with a crash.

He took in deep gulps of air as he searched frantically for the boat or any signs of life. Nothing. Just the action somewhere in the distance. James continued his odyssey until he hit the side of a dock.

“Are you still there, Sinclair?” said James as he heaved himself from the canal.

His clothes and the bulletproof vest felt like rocks hanging from his body as he