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

James took small, measured breaths. He slowed his pace. Each time the snow crunched, he winced. Holding the AR-15 in the firing position, he stared through the sights. The lethal red dot followed his eyeline.

He crept forwards until he saw the front stoop of the cabin. Just 50 metres away, by his reckoning. He saw lights inside, but no signs of anyone outside. Kemal knew his orders. He was to advance on the cabin and open fire. Kemal was the bait, even if he thought otherwise.

James took a knee and maintained his position, waiting for the sound of the first shot. The red dot rested in the direct centre of the door, just where someone’s head might emerge. If Gordon were inside, he wouldn’t even get a chance to fight back.

“Come on, Kemal,” James breathed.

A gunshot cracked through the forest. It came from dead ahead of him. Kemal had answered his prayers. The echo reverberated through the tranquil area and disappeared. The door opened. James tightened his grip. Two men emerged. He held off. None of them were Gordon.

Kemal fired from the trees. The two Croatians dove for cover. James remained motionless. These men knew what they were doing. Both of them faced away from him. He heard no tell-tale screams from Nazifa. James stayed behind his tree, watching the Croatians scramble for cover. They had their backs to him.

James waited for them to plunge into the forest in their search for Kemal, before he inched forwards. He didn’t trust Gordon. Creeping his way through the trees, he listened to the sound of his own heartbeat as he shifted his red dot from side to side. He neither saw nor heard movements, only the relentless booms of guns firing.

He was only two rows of trees from the clearing. The Croatians had left the door wide open. James shook his head. Something didn’t feel right. Gordon wouldn’t have pinned himself down by waiting inside. Besides, most high calibre bullets would penetrate those walls.

James kept his eyes on the door. A movement from his left. The bullet hit the tree beside him, just where his head had been. Taken off balance, James stumbled backwards. Another blast and the ancient bark exploded. Gordon appeared from around the side of the cabin.

“Good morning, Winchester,” he called.

James took as much cover as he could behind the tree. Gordon’s next well-placed shot exploded yet more bark. Violent splinters shredded the air. His ears rang with the impact. James continued to move from tree to tree, only just managing to avoid Gordon’s shots.

The firing stopped. Gordon had disappeared. James raised the AR-15, searching for any sight of him. A flick of an arm, James dropped to his stomach and let loose with the weapon. Snow and tree bark erupted as the high-powered bullets wreaked havoc.

Gordon vanished again. The only sounds were those of Kemal and the two Croatians somewhere in the distance.

James kept moving. He couldn’t take the risk of remaining still. Looking down the red dot again, he crouched behind another tree. A flash of blonde hair and James fired. Gordon disappeared behind a trunk.

“Your aim is terrible,” said Gordon. “Is this what Gallagher was so concerned about?”

James didn’t rise to the bait. He wouldn’t risk giving his position away.

“Come on, Winchester.” Gordon emerged from behind the truck with a pistol in each hand. He was toying with him. “You have to do better than that.”

James dove away from Gordon’s shots flying into the snow, the chill stinging his face. Rising to his feet again, he scanned the area where Gordon had been. James ejected the cartridge and popped another one back in, a loud snap piercing the air.

A bullet flashed past him, ill-placed. It soon disappeared. Gordon’s shots were forcing him back. He darted to the right and heard another bullet whizzing past him.

Gordon called out, “You’re never going to hit me if you fight like this.”

James gritted his teeth. Truth be told he knew it. The AR-15 was cumbersome for a fight like this. It made him less agile and mobile. He had to get rid of it, but he couldn’t risk Gordon getting his hands on it.

He edged towards the cabin. James had to try something new. He made a break for it and ran for the back of the cabin, zigzagging all the way. Gordon’s shots didn’t come close to hitting him.

James flew around the side of the cabin, removed the magazine from the AR-15, and shoved the empty weapon behind a stack of chopped firewood. He took the M9 from its holster. H felt like a millstone had been removed from around his neck. Now, he had to figure out a way of beating Gordon.

Diving back into the trees behind the cabin, he waited for Gordon to show himself again. Shots continually rang out from the forest, only this time they were closer. His breathing grew deeper as he forced the air through his nostrils. To his left, he saw someone, and it wasn’t Kemal.

Gordon appeared from around the other side of the cabin. In his peripheral vision, one of the Croatians saw him and turned his gun on him. James raised his weapon and fired. The man dropped. His back arched as the bullet tore his kidneys to shreds. Gordon fired just as James rolled away. The snow exploded upwards as the shot marked where he’d been standing.

James instantly fired back at Gordon. His fire elicited a grunt from the man. James had scored a hit. He threw himself behind a tree again as Gordon emptied the magazine of one of his pistols.

Gordon threw down an empty pistol. “Nice shot, Winchester. A glancing blow.”

James looked out and fired. Gordon had already taken cover. He ejected the magazine and reloaded his