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

his head. It had all the hallmarks of a warning, rather than an assassination attempt. The poorly aimed shots hadn't come close to hitting him. This time. No, it was a warning. He'd been marked for death.

Chapter Eighteen

Sinclair sat in front of his computer, checking the news articles about the riot from the game. Some photographers had caught pictures of the hooligans in mid-flight, the burning flares and ominous smoke at their backs.

James sat adjacent to him at the kitchen table. Only twenty minutes earlier, someone had shot at him, yet he felt remarkably calm about the whole thing. It seemed Kadrić's men had pinpointed him as a threat.

"This changes things," Sinclair said.

"I don't think it does. All it means is Kadrić is aware of me. We knew it would happen sooner or later."

"I would have preferred later. We have barely started and Kadrić is already after you... assuming it was Kadrić."

" As far as I know, we haven't made any other enemies in Bosnia. Who else could it be?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Sinclair looked away from his screen. "Just be more careful from now on. That was a warning. They won't send you a second one."

James released a brief smile. "Never mind, then. Goran Pejakovski is our next target. Find out as much as you can about him. Kemal didn't know who he was. Ismet had heard the name but that was it."

"A pity you killed Ivica. We might have found out more if we had more time with him."

"What makes you think I killed Ivica?"

Sinclair went pale, like a sudden nausea had come over him. "Well," he recovered. "I didn't think you let him go so he could report your faces to Kadrić."

James nodded. "Yes, he's dead, but I didn't kill him. I wanted to let him go, his death seemed needless, but Kemal and Ismet were about to revolt. I left him with Ismet."

Sinclair looked away. "That's all I want to know." He rubbed his chin. "Look, I've been doing some additional research. I found nothing, of course, but someone else did. Jacob Finch has some interesting information about the ambassador from Serbia, Vojo Plemenac."

He slapped his palm on the table. "Jacob Finch? How did you get Gallagher to give him to us?"

Sinclair avoided James' gaze. "I asked him. He said yes. If you want to find out more, you should call him yourself."

"No thanks." James lit a cigarette. "It's been a challenging enough day as it is."

The coils of smoke drifted over Sinclair's computer. The intelligence agent wrinkled his nose in protest.

"What did he say about this ambassador?"

"He's a spy."

"A spy?"

"Yes. There's evidence to show he has been working directly for the government in Belgrade for years. His ambassadorial role is just a cover, so people are more likely to trust him, but he's far more than just a messenger boy."

"Bloody hell." James took a long drag on the cigarette. "This could be interesting. What makes you think he actually is a spy?"

"Because Finch said so."

James felt tempted to argue but decided against it. Finch never got things wrong. He could hack into any computer system in the world when he wanted to. That's why field agents who could gain the cooperation of Blackwind's lead hacker considered it a blessing and an honour. Finch could unlock anything and answer any question. He was the closest thing he knew of to a modern-day oracle.

"So, what would you like to do with that information? Shall I add him to the list?"

"No. Assassinating a public figure like an ambassador without permission would only play into Kadrić's hands. It would do more for him than he ever thought possible because it would give Serbia justification to go to war if it wanted to. You know ambassadors have diplomatic protection under the Vienna Convention."

James shrugged. "I could make it look like an accident, I'm sure."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. According to Finch's report, Plemanac appears to associate with everyone. Even though he works as a spy, it doesn't necessarily mean he has aligned himself with Kadrić. You need to understand Serbia is rather indifferent towards Srpska these days. Your average Serbian has no interest in Srpska, so never assume the government in Belgrade is working to break up Bosnia and free Srpska. That's only what the nationalists say, not the moderates."

James let out a deep breath as he stubbed his cigarette out in a plain pewter ashtray. "So, where does that leave us?"

"We should meet him, I think. At the very least we can try to learn about his position. Then we can determine whether he poses a threat to our operation or not."

"Okay, that should be fine. I can go and meet him."

"Yes, you can, but not without me. I'll reach out to Plemenac to see if he's receptive to meeting us, and, if so, I will take charge of the meeting."

James rolled his eyes. "Having you in the field is more of a hindrance than a help. I'd prefer it if you stuck to your computers."

"So would I." Sinclair closed his laptop with a soft click. "But my experiences with you have told me never to rely on your diplomatic skills. Dealing with real world ambassadors requires a lighter touch, you know what I mean?"

"Whatever you say, Sinclair."

"Oh, and Ratko wants to speak to you whenever you can manage it.” Sinclair rolled his eyes. “I couldn't imagine why."

Chapter Nineteen

Later that evening, James found himself back in the bustling old town district. Amongst the bazaars and low wooden buildings, he picked out a quiet bar in a secluded courtyard. Long wooden tables and benches spread across the open space. Waiters delivered large glasses of beer to the customers huddled in