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

Kemal had taken the scenic route high up in the hills winding around the residential areas. A dry lightning storm struck on the other side of the valley, sending probing forks of electricity into the city streets below.

Kemal had chosen the little cottage as their hideout because it belonged to his family long before the war. A crumbling waterwheel adorned the building, adjoining a stone bridge. The dirt roads were empty of all people. Only the street dogs, driven from the city, the tell-tale yellow and purple sterilisation tags on their ears, gave this place any indication of life.

A couple of crows let out a cry and launched themselves over their heads, before disappearing into the mists. Ivica groaned in response. The blood on his face had dried during the journey, leaving a Martian-like crust.

"We're here. My family home," said Kemal. "We had to leave it during the war." His knuckles turned white as he clutched the steering wheel.

"Well, we can speak about it with our friend." Ismet jerked the door open with his foot.

Kemal unfolded the seat and Ivica groaned from the floor of the car like a creaking door. James finally removed his feet from his captor as Kemal dragged Ivica by the scruff of his neck out of his car and across the road, chastising him in Bosnian all the way.

"Let's make it quick," said James. "News might get out."

Ismet smiled and shook his head. "No, my friend. In Bosnia we keep our mouths closed. My police friend will never say a word, and that means his men won't. You have nothing to worry about. You did well today. If you were Bosnian, you would be real Horde Sla." Ismet clapped a pan-like hand on his back. "Will you kill him?"

James shook his head. "I didn't bring him here to kill him. I just want information."

Ismet rubbed his hands together. "Good. After you get your information, he's ours."

He sent Ismet a sidelong look but decided not to say anything. That wasn't an argument he thought he would win.

Kemal wrestled Ivica to his feet and frogmarched him towards the door of the cottage. The home had been abandoned more than two decades ago. Only a few bricks kept the door locked and protected from any wandering animals who wanted to take up residence.

"Do we have a light?" asked James when Ismet opened the door into a pitch-black room.

"No light." Kemal threw Ivica across the threshold.

The cottage contained little more than a few broken tables and chairs set in front of a crumbling fireplace. The door of every cupboard and drawer had been left open. He figured Kemal's family must have left in a hurry with no intention of returning.

James switched on the light of his smartphone and left it on the mantle above the fireplace. Years of disuse had dried up even the last of the ashes. James’ phone cast a blue-white luminous hue across the room. He ordered Ivica to sit against the wall opposite the fireplace.

"Give me more light," said James.

The two men switched on their own phone lights, which did little to penetrate the gloom, but it was enough for James to get to work. He had to be able to see the man's face, to look into his eyes and see into his very soul.

"You speak English?" asked James.

Ivica shook his head, the fear evident across his eyes.

James sighed. "Fine. You'll both need to translate for me, but let me do the interrogating. Translate everything I say word for word."

Kemal and Ismet didn't hide their disappointment but nodded their heads.

"Ivica, I'm not going to hurt you if you answer my questions. You're not important to us, do you understand?"

Ismet translated and Ivica nodded his assent.

"Do you know who Sadik Kadrić is?" James asked.

Ivica shook his head after the translation.

Kemal gave him a huge open-palm slap to the side of the head.

James cleared his throat. "Thank you, Kemal. Ask him again."

This time Ismet slapped him on the other side of the head before Kemal had even finished asking the question. When Kemal got to the end of his sentence, Ivica nodded through gritted teeth. James could see his desire to fight, but he knew what would happen if he did.

"Good. Then I'm sure you know he's a Bosnian-Serb nationalist with dreams of breaking Srpska away from Bosnia. I'd wager that you feel the same way, isn't that correct?"

Kemal translated. "He said yes."

"Our business is with Kadrić and nobody else. He's the cause of all this trouble across the country. I'm not here to get into your political struggles. I only want Kadrić. That's why I want to know where he is and how I can get to him."

After Ismet translated James' words, Ivica responded only by spitting at James' feet. James sighed. If he could help it, he wanted to avoid any further violence. In answer to Ivica’s disrespect, he simply nodded and spun around on his heel. He listened to the grunts and screams behind him, as Kemal and Ismet beat him to a pulp. James slowly counted in his head. When he got to ten, he turned around again.

"That's enough," he said.

James looked upon his captive in the alien light of the three phones. A great welt swelled up underneath Ivica’s eye. Blood flowed freely from his nose and mouth all over again. Ivica tried to clear it away from his sinuses as he slumped back towards the ground, his head only supported by the wall behind him.

"Answer the question. I don't care if these two have to kill you. You decide whether Kadrić is worth protecting."

Ismet yelled the Bosnian words in Ivica's face.

"He says he doesn't know Kadrić,” said Kemal. “He says he's not important enough. Just a soldier."

"Do you believe him?" James asked.