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

for their lives. They climbed into a truck and sped away, the heavy wheels spinning in the dirt before skidding around a curve.

James held his weapon with two hands, checking the scene for survivors. All was quiet. With stealth, he crept up on the cabs of the two trucks left behind and carefully inspected the interiors. The military-grade vehicles were thick with armour and painted in a forest green camouflage colour. He went straight for the middle one and wrenched the door open.

General Narith cried out from the footwell of the vehicle. The overweight general clamped his hands together in the Buddhist prayer fashion. He spoke in the few words of Khmer James could understand as he begged for his life.

James grabbed him by the ankles and hauled him from the vehicle, making sure only the ground broke his fall. The highly decorated general’s ribbons and insignia flopped around as he lay on his back like a turtle turned upside down.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” said James. “But you seem to know me.”

Narith continued to chant the same statement over and over again in Khmer.

“You speak English? If not, then you’re not going to get any last words with me.” He pointed a pistol at him. “English?”

“I speak English. I speak English,” replied Narith.

“Shao Fen. Where is he?”

“Will you let me go if I tell you?”

“No, but I’ll make your death that much more painful if you don’t tell me where he is. You think someone like that cares if you die? You’re just a pawn to him and always was.”

Narith spat on the ground next to him. “What do you know, barang? You are a foreigner in this land. I would rule Cambodia until my death.”

James shook his head. “Your death would have come much sooner than you thought. Shao had already brought in someone from the Communist Party of China to run the country, a man named Song Wen, who’s in Phnom Penh right now. He was only using you to take power.”

“I don’t care what you think. Just kill me or let me go. Stop wasting my time.”

James fired a bullet straight into Narith’s enormous stomach. The hot metal punctured the flesh and embedded itself in his fatty insides. Narith screamed as blood spurted onto the ground. It felt like death, but James knew it was a gutshot. It would make him live in agony for hours before he finally passed.

“I can make it stop if you tell me where Shao Fen is. Admit it to me. Admit everything, and I’ll put you out of your misery.”

A great dark stain spread across the general’s shirt. The strongman mewled and cursed him in his own language. James knew by Narith’s reaction, he’d never experienced being shot before.

“Tell me.” He took out his phone. “Speak into this.”

“Okay, okay, I will. Just kill me.”

“Don’t move, it’ll only make it worse.” James turned on the recorder on his smartphone. “What’s your name?”

“Sen Narith.”

“What’s your position?”

“A general of the Royal Cambodian Army,” Narith barely managed to get the words out as the pain ripped through his insides.

James went through the interview, recording everything so Thom would have the proof he needed to authorise him to take out Shao Fen. The process was laborious, but Narith cooperated without even a groan.

“I want to know where Shao Fen is,” James said at last. “Stop your bellyaching. Where does he spend most of his time?”

Narith coughed and groaned as he held his hand tight over the wound in his belly. Blood continued to leak through his fingers. Every word had become an exercise in pain for him. James couldn’t pity the man. The crimes he’d committed needed punishing. This was a man who wouldn’t hesitate if their positions were reversed.

“General?”

“Sihanoukville. The shipyards. They were going to expand the shipyards to allow them to house Chinese battleships. The prime minister put a stop to it, and now it’s in limbo. This is what it’s all about, barang.”

“When were you going to launch this coup?”

Narith managed to raise his head to look him in the eyes. “The second you were dead, barang. We couldn’t do anything while you were alive. Your interference has caused great damage in Cambodia.”

James flicked his eyebrows. “You are the damage, Narith. The world doesn’t need another military dictatorship or to see China interfere in another country. You’re the traitor, Narith. You’d hand your entire country over to the Chinese just to get your way. And now you’re going to die here.”

Narith’s expression hardened. “I might not have killed you, but I’ve got my revenge.”

“What?”

“My revenge. We know where you’re staying in Siem Reap. Your fat friend is already dead. I sent my men there when you were up on the hill.”

James stopped. It couldn’t be true. Sinclair would have taken precautions to ensure he had covered their tracks. Narith couldn’t have found him. Then his mind went back to the unanswered phone calls. He couldn’t account for Sinclair’s disappearance. Could it be true?

He fired the fatal shot into Narith’s chest. The shot killed him instantly as the last of his lifeblood spilt onto the sun-drenched soil. James didn’t bother to hide the massacre. His mind could only focus on Sinclair, his colleague, his friend.

He would never forgive himself if Sinclair died because he wasn’t there to protect him. He hijacked one of the military vehicles and pulled away from Phnom Bakheng. It took only twenty minutes to drive back to Siem Reap and their guesthouse, but it was the longest minutes of his life.

He made it back in record time and ignored the gawping expressions of pedestrians observing him exit a Cambodian military vehicle. He rushed down the dead-end street on foot until he reached the guesthouse.

The young guesthouse manager looked shellshocked as