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

head. In theory, it was quite simple. He would take the turnoff at the highway at the last possible second so the security would have problems following him. In practice, he expected a fight.

James glanced to the right and watched as the delegation appeared at the entranceway. Rosher still had a great big smile on his face as he posed for more photographs and chatted with Ocampo. He wondered who Ocampo worked for. Did he know Rosher was in Quezada’s pocket?

He tightened his hands on the wheel as the delegation approached. Rosher gave little waves to the assembled masses before he turned and walked to his car. Now only feet away, an aide pulled the door open. James forced himself to look down at the wheel, not daring to look in the rear-view mirror.

James gulped as he waited for the lead car to start the convoy. It felt like a lifetime before the rear lights of the car in front flashed and moved away.

He followed the lead car and took his position in line, moving as smoothly as he possibly could. Once they started driving, James pressed the button to lock all the rear doors. He chanced a peek in the mirror and saw Rosher glued to his phone. He had him now.

“Paulo, are you able to work overtime tonight?” asked Rosher.

James didn’t respond. The gig was up, and he knew it.

“Paulo, didn’t you hear me?”

He lifted his head and looked Rosher dead in the eyes through the rear-view mirror. “I think I can work a few extra hours, governor.”

Rosher yelped and tried the back door like a caged animal. His phone fell to the floor with a thud as he raced across to the other side. He tried banging on the window, but this car had reinforced glass. These cars didn’t penetrate easy.

James grabbed his gun and pointed it at Rosher, whilst trying to keep an eye on the road. The rest of the convoy and Rosher’s security detail hadn’t yet seen what had happened.

“Look, you’re going to sit back in that seat and stop talking. I heard enough of your lies the last time, and I don’t need to hear anymore, understand?”

Rosher trembled, his lower lip sticking out as if he were about to cry.

James turned fully around in his seat to inspect the captive governor. He saw the same dark patch between his legs again. “You really are a dirty pig, you know that?”

His passenger didn’t respond.

James continued the journey as best he could. His gaze kept alternating between the road and Rosher. The governor tried to lower himself down to cower in the backseat.

“Stay where I can see you, governor.”

James barely blinked as he remained in a total state of focus.

The lead car screeched to a halt. James couldn’t react in time as he clipped the corner of the car. He found himself being propelled forwards as the rear car took a running jump and smashed into the back of the governor’s car. They’d trapped him.

James cursed. Somehow the governor must have alerted them. The phone. How could he have been so stupid? Slapping the steering wheel in frustration at his own laxity, he thrust the car into gear and manoeuvred his way around the lead car just as the gunshots smashed into the bodywork.

He accelerated and started shifting through the gears as he outran the other cars on the road. Like a desperate prisoner on the run, he saw his options shifting and narrowing the further he went. The traffic started to clog up like a sewage pipe in both directions. James knew he would never make the turnoff for the highway like this.

“If I go, you’re not going to live through this, Rosher,” James shouted at the traffic ahead.

He took a calculated risk and barrelled across the adjacent lane into the path of oncoming traffic. The miniature cars he’d chosen to take on slammed on their brakes. James couldn’t get out of the way of the last car in time and smashed the front fender. The little vehicle crumpled under the gas-guzzling weight of the governor’s vehicle. Like a tank, he cleared the obstacles the hard way and headed for the industrial wasteland.

James checked the mirror as the car started to bump along the uneven ground. It utilised every bit of suspension as it threw itself over little hills and trundled over large rocks hidden by the overgrown brush.

One of the cars had managed to tail him. The vehicle charged across the field, its front bumper hanging off. Another two cars from Rosher’s security appeared, the same make and model.

James gritted his teeth as he barrelled back onto the road leading out of Guanajuato towards León. He knew he would have to take the free road or risk smashing through the toll booth. He slowed down at the end of the field and angled the car slightly.

He hit the button for the automatic windows. James grabbed his Glock just as his pursuers careened down the hill. James aimed out of the window and opened fire on the windscreen of the car before it had a chance to take evasive action. The bullets penetrated the driver and passenger seat.

He didn’t wait to assess the damage he’d caused as he slammed his foot on the accelerator again. The wheels spun in place as they struggled for purchase on the concrete. James felt himself thrown back by the power of the car as it lurched off again.

One quick look in the mirror and he saw the other car continuing to roll down the hill, out of control. He’d managed to slay the driver, and perhaps the passenger too. He had only seconds to make his decision and trained the gun on Rosher, using the rear-view mirror to calculate his aim.

“Throw the phone into the front. I know it