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

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Sinclair observed a map on the wall of the corridor inside the Hotel Old Town. It showed part of the Balkan region, from Croatia in the west to Serbia in the east, as well as all the major cities, towns, and roads in between. Something bothered him. A lot bothered him. Miran bothered him most of all. That blind man had a role to play in all this. There was nothing he could prove, not even a shred of evidence against him, but he sensed there was something. Something didn't feel right about him.

He picked up his phone and made one of his usual calls to Gallagher. They were at the end of a cul-de-sac and needed help. Sinclair had no choice in the matter.

"Are you still in Bosnia?" asked Gallagher with a sharp edge to his tone.

"Yes," Sinclair answered. "But I'll be leaving soon. I had some matters to discuss with you."

"I hope you are not intending to join Winchester on his foolhardy mission."

"I didn't call you to talk about him, sir. Your business is nothing to do with me. I'd rather not get involved."

"Good man. Well, what can I do for you?"

"Nazifa Aleksi. Did our agents take her? The last thing I want is for James to be wasting everyone's time on a pointless search around Sarajevo."

"Our agents Maugham and Minamo did take her. Two nights ago, with relatively little difficulty."

"Do they still have her?"

"No. She was handed over to an affiliate group in Croatia. In spite of that, they continue to report to me. She is still alive, for now. I have yet to decide her fate. It largely depends on how well she cooperates and whether she is likely to cause problems for us if we let her go."

"Croatia?" Sinclair said in surprise. "Why move her all the way to Croatia? Seems a tad over the top, would you not agree, sir?"

"Where Winchester is concerned, nothing is too extreme, understand? Did you reveal her true allegiances to him?"

"Should I have, sir?"

"I think it is an excellent card to play when you have the chance. The sooner we tie up these loose ends, the sooner this madness can come to an end. Her location is Mrkopalj, in the heartland of Croatia. That should resolve the mystery, if he asks."

Sinclair scanned the map in front of him. He soon pinpointed the location Gallagher had mentioned. During his youth, Sinclair had spent a little time travelling through Croatia. Like most, he stuck to the capital Zagreb and the more beautiful coastal regions of the country. Mrkopalj truly seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere. It surprised him that Gallagher had volunteered the information at all.

"Thank you for telling me, sir. I will raise the matter with James when the time is right. I did have one more question, about Miran Heranda."

"Mr. Heranda? What would you want to know about him?"

Sinclair took a deep breath. "Does he have any connection with Plemenac?"

"Client confidentiality, Wood. Even if I knew, I would not be able to share that information with you as it does not pertain to the contract at hand. Speaking of which, I expect the both of you back in London within the next week, understand? I feel I have been extremely generous in extending your time."

"You have, sir, thank you."

Sinclair ended the call. He began to perspire in the warm surroundings of the hotel. Gallagher had refused to tell him anything about Miran, but there also wasn't a denial. Knowing Gallagher, that could only mean one thing: Miran must have a connection to Plemenac.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Mrkopalj, Gorski Kotar, Croatia

Nazifa sat with her back to the wall of the wood cabin. Branimir and Zvonko were seemingly her only guards. She hadn't heard them speaking on the phone or talking of any reinforcements. Despite their low, conspiratorial voices, she understood everything they said.

Her prison was little more than a bare room. A single wrought iron bed with a sagging mattress rested in one corner. A wood burning stove took up the other side, with a simple wooden table in the middle. At best it seemed like a getaway cabin, but she couldn’t see enough to say for sure.

"What are you doing?" asked Nazifa.

Branimir balanced himself on top of one of the wooden chairs, tying a rope around a beam. He ignored her as he worked to tie a thick knot.

"Zvonko, what is he doing?"

Zvonko only glanced back at her with a hint of irritation. With Branimir's back to her, she couldn't see what he wanted to hang.

The two men had offered her little comfort since their arrival. She'd been forced to sleep on the floor and received nothing but weak tea and whatever meaty scraps they would spare from their own meals. She figured they had a separate store of food in the car because neither of them ever left, except to go to the outdoor toilet. They provided a looser set of handcuffs, but, despite her pleas, they wouldn't entertain the idea of removing them.

Still, what would be the point in trying to escape? She had no idea where she was. The fact the two foreigners had handed her over to two Croatians likely meant they knew the area well. Trying to escape in the middle of winter, even if it were possible, would likely lead to her freezing to death in the woods.

Branimir jumped down from the chair and landed with a bang.

Nazifa's eyes widened. "What the fuck?"

The piece of rope now hanging to the beam seemed innocent enough, but at the end was a perfect hangman's noose.

Nazifa scrambled to her feet, ready to fight to the death.

"No, no," said Branimir. "It's