Failed State (A James Winchester Thriller Book 1) (James Winchester Series) - James Samuel (top novels of all time .txt) 📗

closer to him. There are some traffic lights there. Just kneecap him and drag him into the car. The backdoors are unlocked.” Diego clicked a button and James heard the distinctive locking mechanism.

Diego cruised towards the traffic lights, then came to a halt. The unsuspecting narco had almost reached the front fender of the car. James unfastened his seat belt and grabbed his Ruger Superhawk .44 calibre revolver from the footwell.

“Now, go,” Diego yelled.

James threw the Land Rover’s door open and leapt out. The narco flinched in shock. James levelled the revolver at the narco’s leg and fired. The powerful calibre ripped through his kneecap, dropping him with a howl of pain.

He bull-rushed the screaming narco and dragged him by his stricken leg across the ground. The man looked not much older than a boy and could do nothing to stop James from dragging him parallel with the back door. He struggled for a few seconds before James forced him into the back of the car.

James jumped in after him and held the gun to the narco’s head.

Diego accelerated from the scene, the wheels screeching away. His eyes locked, unblinking, on the road ahead. James continued to watch over the narco like a hawk. He forced the young man’s hands above his head as he pinned his knee onto his stomach to hold him against the seat of the moving car.

“Don’t move,” James said in Spanish. “I’ll kill you if I have to.”

The narco didn’t protest but continued to moan. James allowed him that little luxury. The bullet had penetrated his kneecap and he would never walk without a limp for the rest of his life.

James flashed a quick look to the back of Diego’s head. “Where are you going?”

“I know a place.”

Chapter Ten

Tlahuelilpan, Hidalgo, Mexico

Hidalgo state had experienced some of the worst violence in the country. Fernando waited in tense silence with Alex in a crumbling home in Tlahuelilpan. Only months before, the denizens of this town had fought the Mexican police to a standstill. Many of the burned-out cars were strewn across the sides of the main highway even now.

“Does this feel like a trap?” asked Fernando.

“No.” Alex peered out of the grimy window from behind the frayed curtains. “Rasgado is an important man, and I’m reporting directly to Quezada. He wouldn’t betray us. We’re the only reason he’s a rich man.”

Fernando nodded and readjusted himself on the moth-eaten sofa. The sofa squeaked under his weight. A small, grainy TV, set on a wooden box in the corner, showed commentators screaming as Chivas, the local football team from Guadalajara, thundered in a goal.

“He’s coming,” said Alex.

“Alright. What do you want me to do?”

“Sit down and shut up. Follow my lead.”

Fernando straightened up as Alex went to the door to welcome Rasgado. According to Alex, the deal they would cut with Rasgado would see them tip the tide of the war against Montoya. Rasgado was the assistant to the Secretariat of National Defence for the whole of Mexico. Santa Maria de Guadalupe would become the most powerful drug cartel in the country with his backing.

“Mr. Rasgado.” Alex shook the politician’s hand. “Welcome. I’m sorry we couldn’t have found somewhere nicer.”

Rasgado had the eyes of a wounded prisoner with a flick knife and a distorted face. Thick skin sustained from horrific burns covered the whole left side of his face. People always speculated where they came from, but none had managed to get it out of him.

Fernando stood and shook Rasgado’s hand as he entered the living room. Alex had chosen only Fernando to assist him in the negotiations. The rest of their guard convened behind the closed door of the kitchen.

Rasgado had arrived with his assistant, a short man Rasgado hadn’t bothered to introduce to them. He perched himself on the sofa looking shifty.

Alex turned to Rasgado. “Would you like to sit?”

“No,” Rasgado said disdainfully. “New suit. That sofa looks like it was found at the side of the road.”

Alex nodded and remained standing too.

Rasgado took the stance of a soldier with his legs shoulder-width apart. His expression never softened. His eyes span around in their sockets as he observed everyone and everything around him.

“Mr. Rasgado,” Alex started. “Is everything well?”

“Quezada can expect his order to be met. I’ve ensured that the police will stand down and he’ll have no trouble from the army.”

“Thank you.” Alex smiled. “Thank you very much.”

“This is a grace period.” Rasgado raised a finger. “It won’t last for more than a year. The newspapers will figure something is up if it lasts too long.”

“And the Secretariat of National Defence?”

“He’s weak. Camacho should have never been given that position in the first place.”

“Good, good, Quezada agrees that you should be considered for that position. He has a proposition for you, in addition to our deal.”

Rasgado raised his chin. “Go on.”

“How would you like to be the next Secretariat of National Defence?”

“I would.”

“Quezada can make that happen. In exchange for convincing the army and police to work with us more actively.” Alex paused for an indication that Rasgado was interested. He got nothing. “You see, when the entire police force of Acapulco was purged, it created problems for businessmen like us. If you could prevent that from happening as secretariat, we would be most grateful.”

Rasgado gave a slight nod. “And how would you guarantee that I would be made secretariat? Killing Camacho wouldn’t do. It would be too obvious that it was an inside job.”

Fernando stiffened up, an idea springing into his mind’s eye. He looked away from Rasgado, biting his tongue.

“Speak up, boy.” Rasgado’s wild look homed in on him.

“Mr. Rasgado,” Fernando shifted uncomfortably. “I was thinking that if there’s a way to make Camacho look incompetent to the general