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

His heart rate gradually slowed. He owed Kadrić everything. Now he would honour him by seeing his killer dead. Then, the foreigner would be next.

Chapter Forty-Four

Sarajevo, Sarajevo Canton, Bosnia and Herzegovina

Sinclair finished packing most of his equipment. For him, his job had come to an end. James leaned against the door of his room, watching his partner try to untangle a mass of cables like he was cleaning a hairbrush. Sinclair held a look of pure concentration as he worked to unpick the electronic mess before him.

"Sinclair..."

"I'm not staying, James. I told you last night and I'm telling you again today, this is not our fight."

James sighed. "Don't you feel like our work is unfinished, though? Like we haven't made a difference?"

"Making a difference is for philanthropists and politicians, for good or for bad." Sinclair threw the tangled cables onto his bed. "Our work is defined by our contracts. The brief we receive at the beginning of every operation is our work. Once the parameters have been fulfilled, we can leave with our heads held high. Why can't you see it that way?"

James thought about it. He didn't know why he felt the way he did now. In Cambodia, he hadn't brought an end to oppression and dictatorship. He'd supported one tyrant over another. The suffering of the Cambodian people hadn't changed in the slightest because of his actions. In Mexico, he hadn't put a stop to the drug war ravaging the country. One cartel leader replaced another and the killing continued. His actions felt like a stone dropping into a vast lake.

"You know what your problem is?" Sinclair said as he approached James. "The girl."

"Oh, come on." James tossed his head.

"How much time have you spent with her? Are you going to tell me every meeting was pertinent to the cause of seeing Kadrić dead?"

"It wasn't."

"Exactly. Look, James, I don't care about who you want to copulate with. You are much younger than me and it is your right to use your free time as you wish, but you are being manipulated. Nazifa is not as sweet and innocent as you think."

"I never said she was."

"She wants what Kemal does, Bosnian supremacy. Men like Kadrić want Bosnian-Serb supremacy. Read any comprehensive history of the Balkan region and you will see that this has been going on for centuries. Whether you like her or not, she is one side of the same spinning coin."

"You're wrong," he said weakly.

"Am I?"

Sinclair stalked away and plonked himself down on his bed. He began picking apart the cables with his stubby fingers again.

James chewed on his tongue for a few moments. He couldn't deny his attraction to Nazifa. The memory of the kiss the night before wouldn't leave his mind. His eyes felt heavy from the lack of sleep. A night spent grabbing his phone, tempted to call her, but he'd always thrown it back on the table again. She would call him sooner or later. She'd said so.

"I'm still going to stay," he said at last.

Sinclair stopped picking at the cables with a sigh. "I know. You're stubborn. Always have been. I don't want to leave you here on your own."

"Then why not stay? It won't be for long, I promise."

"No," Sinclair snapped. "I'm not going to enable you. I won't do it."

"How about this?" he said in desperation. "I still need your help. I can't do this without information, and you're the only man I know who can get that reliably. Give me three days. Just three days and then you can fly to wherever you want with my blessing."

Sinclair let the cables rest on his lap. He ran his hand through his thinning hair, turmoil written across his face. "I really don't know –"

"Come on, Sinclair, just trust me. I'm only asking you for three days and nothing more. After that, I'm on my own."

Sinclair pursed his lips. "Three days?"

"Just three days. Nothing more."

"I won't go into the field with you, no matter what. This hotel is going to be my only home for the next three days."

"You have my word. I won't ask you to come with me under any circumstances."

"I'll tell Gallagher that I'll use part of my rest period to stay here, then. He won't be happy about it."

"He gave me his word that I can stay here until Mlakar is dead. We don't have to tell him about Plemenac or what we're doing."

Sinclair groaned. "Alright, fine. I'll do it. But I want you to think about what I said. This is not our fight. There are no good guys here. Bosnian nationalists are no different from Serbians. Lock them in a cage and they'll tear each other apart just the same."

James' released a wide smile. "I won't forget this."

Chapter Forty-Five

Travnik, Central Bosnia Canton, Bosnia and Herzegovina

In Travnik’s illustrious past, it had once serviced for more than 150 years as the seat of the Ottoman viziers for Bosnia. The ancient minarets of the city's white mosques punctured the low-hanging clouds like a pin cushion. Their forest green caps blended in with the hills outside the city. A heavenly song in Arabic broke through the speakers affixed to each minaret, the muezzin calling the city's faithful to afternoon prayers. A mosque on the corner of the square already drew Muslims answering the sacred call.

James drove his rental car through the congested town's central streets. The Audi’s large size bullied the older Bosnian vehicles aside. Nondescript shops and restaurants crammed together throughout the narrow streets of Travnik’s central area. The paths barely accommodated more than two people walking side by side.

Nazifa fidgeted in the passenger seat as he parked the car. He didn't have any other options for backup on this mission. Sinclair refused to come,