Interdiction (A James Winchester Thriller Book 3) (James Winchester Series) - James Samuel (best memoirs of all time .TXT) 📗

"More of it than most would like to see."

She narrowed his eyes at him. "Who are you? How do you know Ratko?"

"Luck, or lack thereof, depending on how you want to look at it."

Nazifa giggled again. "Mysterious. An Englishman in Sarajevo. Do you have any experience in dealing with men like him?"

James hesitated for a moment, unsure of what Ratko would have told her about his business. He didn't even know what Sinclair had told Ratko about the extent of their business.

"I'm an expert in the removal business," he said.

Nazifa nodded. "How exciting. I like Ratko, but I'm not a pacifist."

He approached her and sat back down on the sofa. This woman had caught his interest.

"I just decided to try his way. Maybe it will work and maybe it won't, but all we can do is try, no?"

His head bobbed up and down slowly. "Do you really think you're going to find something disgraceful enough to make him resign? It could take months, maybe even years, of looking for things that aren't there.” Nazifa worked with Ratko but as yet James didn’t know what she did. “Is that the best use of your time?"

"Maybe not," she said.

"Then why don't you let me handle this? I think my methods will be much faster and much more effective. You stay here and I'll sort it out for you. Maybe it will do some good."

Furrows appeared on Nazifa's forehead. "You'll sort it out? I don't think so, Englishman."

"It could be dangerous, for both you and me."

"I was in the army, you know. Women are not so oppressed in Bosnia as you might think. Did you know we have even had a female brigadier? Like most of our active soldiers, we have never seen active service, but we were taught how to fight."

James clicked his tongue. The admission changed things, but he still couldn't judge her capabilities. If something happened, how could he forgive himself for taking her to her death?

"You don't believe me? Fine."

Nazifa hopped to her feet. Her winter boots banged across the creaking floorboards as she made her way out into the hallway. He heard a plastic bag rustling and she returned carrying a supermarket bag.

"Look inside."

James arched his head to peer inside the open bag. He ran his tongue around his dry mouth. A pistol, cleaned so well he could see the outline of his head reflected on it, shined back at him.

The toothy grin returned. "Now, what do you think?"

James couldn't help but give off a little half-smile. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Just because I have tits, doesn't mean I can't fight. If you go, I go."

"Let's do it, then."

"Just one thing you need to know about Suput." She leaned in so close he could detect the citrusy perfume on her neck. "Don't tell Ratko."

Chapter Nine

Sinclair shook his head in despair at James had just told him. A contract killing of a politician. It would bring down investigations on their heads. They were foreigners operating in the shadows. Every kill mattered. Every kill came with a risk.

James watched his friend work through what he'd told him. He leaned against the doorframe leading into the living room. A European football game played out on the TV screen in front of them, as Sinclair drummed his fingers on the arm of the leather recliner.

"Serious question. Do you do these things to be difficult? Is following the terms of our assignment really that difficult for you?"

"Are you finished?" James chewed on his piece of gum and stretched it across his tongue. "You were the one who told me to offer the White Rose my services. I never wanted anything to do with them."

Sinclair flushed. "Does Ratko know about this? I thought he was a pacifist."

"Who knows?"

"Then I'm going to call him."

"Wait, wait," James snapped. "Of course, he doesn't know anything about it. This came from his deputy. She doesn't want him to know about it because you know how he would react. Nothing would ever get done if the world were ruled by people like him."

"She..."

"Yes, she." He shrugged. "Nazifa Aleksi. She used to be in the army, according to her."

Sinclair cringed. "Oh, for Christ's sake, here we go again. So, a pretty woman has winked at you and now you're on a one-man crusade. This is going to be like Jessi all over again, isn't it?"

James felt a pang in his stomach. Jessi Montoya had been part of their adventures in Mexico. He'd saved her from a drug cartel, and they had grown close to each other. They'd only known each other for a few days, but they had shared a lot. After James had had to come clean about his way of life, she had vanished, seeking a life away from everything she knew. It still pained him in his darker moments.

"Sorry," Sinclair added. "This has nothing to do with her, but in all the time I've known you, you've always had one weakness. All a woman has to do is flutter her eyelashes and you consider it necessary to ride in on your white horse."

"Maybe." James chewed on the gum with renewed vigour. "I never said I was perfect."

"That's the understatement of the year." Sinclair grabbed the remote and turned the volume down. "Our contract states that Sadik Kadrić is our target at the behest of Miran Heranda, the client. We are authorised to eliminate him and anyone who stands in our way, so explain to me how Tomislav Suput is standing in our way."

"I can't. He isn't."

"Gallagher won't like this."

James' fingers hunted for his packet of cigarettes. "Gallagher never likes anything we do, so I stopped caring long ago."

Sinclair handed him the silver plate ashtray decorated with