Overthrow (A James Winchester Thriller Book 2) (James Winchester Series) by James Samuel (psychology books to read txt) 📗

“Exactly, and that’s what gives us the advantage. Special forces always have their identities hidden. It’s the sort of thing that makes them drop their guard in public. They believe that because they wear a mask on the job nobody will recognise them when they’re off the clock. You can take advantage of that.”

James refolded the piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket. He didn’t have the inclination or the patience to continue arguing.

“I’ll need supplies.”

“Already done it. Everything you need is in your room. Keep radio silence in the meantime. If you have any trouble with the police, we don’t want your phone leading them back here.”

James stiffened up and left Sinclair’s stifling room fuming. Intelligence always made it sound so easy. Killing a target rarely bothered James. Yet it was always the simplest targets that presented the biggest problems.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Dylan climbed out of the back of a minivan in the centre of Phnom Penh after the long ride from Sihanoukville. The minivans plying the towns and cities of Cambodia bounced and bumped over potholes and seemingly random bone-jarring hills. His back ached and he felt unsteady on his feet as he treaded upon stable ground again. He vowed never again.

After fighting his way through the advancing hordes of tourist touts, he strolled alongside the Wat Phnom temple and onto the promenade straddling the Mekong. He kept checking behind him in case someone had tailed him. Standard practice in his line of work.

He had to tell James. He needed to warn him that Shao knew his name. They didn’t have much time. Even though they worked on opposite sides. Dylan owed him. He flagged down a tuk-tuk. Within seconds, a tuk-tuk left the stream of traffic and pulled to a halt.

“I know you, Mister,” said the smiling Khmer driver.

“What?” Dylan’s hand hovered near the gun hidden underneath his shirt.

“You are a friend of Mr. James. From the hotel.”

Dylan blinked as he tried to think back. “You know him?”

“Yes, my name is Nhek. It is a great honour to see you again. Where you want to go?”

Dylan settled into the backseat of the tuk-tuk, still wary but satisfied the driver meant him no harm. He didn’t remember him, but, then again, Dylan had been too preoccupied planning the foray into the mountains to pay much attention to a hovering tuk-tuk driver.

“Name’s Dylan. Take me to the Riverside Guesthouse.”

“Yes, I am sure Mr. James will be there waiting for you.”

“Nhek.” Dylan checked the time on his phone. “I’ll pay you double fare if you get me there fast.”

Nhek didn’t need telling twice. He revved his much-abused bike and veered into the road. He almost sideswiped an unfortunate motorbike and nearly sent another careering off into a market stall.

Dylan gripped the sides of his seat as they hurtled through Phnom Penh. As they turned the corner towards the Riverside Guesthouse, Nhek lifted off the throttle and they rolled onto the open patio.

He didn’t wait for the tuk-tuk to stop. Dylan jumped out with a hurried thank you to Nhek and sprinted into the guesthouse. It reeked of carbolic soap used by the cleaners. He hammered on Sinclair’s door.

“Sinclair, open the door. It’s urgent.”

A bleary-eyed Sinclair wrenched the door open. “Dylan, what do you want?”

“Is James in there?”

“What? No. He went out.”

Dylan ran his hands through his sandy hair. “Damn it. Can you call him for me?”

“What’s this all about?”

Dylan sighed and leaned an arm against the door frame. “He’s in danger. It’s a Chinese businessman, my client. He knows his name. He’s going to be the next target.”

Sinclair arched his head into the corridor. “Alright, come in.”

Dylan entered the crash site of a room. He looked around for a place to sit, his heart racing. After observing a pair of discarded underwear on the edge of the bed, he decided to stand. He had to stay calm. He had to be more like Adam.

“You know, I shouldn’t let you in here at all.” Sinclair shut the door. “You’re working for the other side, after all.”

“Look, Sinclair, my client is a man named Shao Fen, a businessman from China. Well, not really. Sir Richard told me he also works for the Chinese government. He knows about James. He knows you’re on Sen’s side.”

Sinclair’s face dropped. “How did he find out about this?”

“I... I’m sorry. It just came out after the debrief. Slip of the tongue, you know?” Dylan hung his head in shame. “It’s my fault. But I wanted to make things right. That’s why I came here straight after the meeting.”

If Sinclair was furious, nothing indicated it. His calm exterior remained unmoved. The information soaked into the intelligence agent’s crinkled brow like a sponge.

“Interesting,” said Sinclair. “We found out about this man Shao Fen. James told me it was Prak who mentioned his name in the mountains. The real power behind General Narith and you just happen to be working for him.”

“We need to get to James,” Dylan whined. “He has to know. Fen could come for him at any time.”

“James is an expert. He can handle himself. Right now, James is on an assignment, and he doesn’t have any means of communicating with us.” Sinclair paused. “For security purposes. But you can inform me if you want to make amends.”

Dylan’s shoulders dropped in relief. He wished Sir Richard had as much faith in him as Sinclair had in James.

“Are you the man assigned to kill James?” Sinclair dropped into the chair in front of his computer.

“No, no, I wouldn’t do it. James saved us all. Fen didn’t tell me his plans. He doesn’t share much with me.”

“Intelligent. I wouldn’t share everything with someone who worked for me, either. So, we