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

James. I’m sorry I hurt you, but it was necessary. Now it is over you can go. Forget about me. Forget your silly ideas of love.”

“Forget you?” James shook his head. “I would never forget a girl like you.”

James dragged his leg as he moved around behind her and cut away the tape around her ankles. The bitterness welled up inside him. He’d gone through all this pain only to be left with an open wound, one which wouldn’t heal for a long time to come.

“Then you are a fool. You men are all the same. If you are so easy to manipulate, you will always be a victim. Forget about me, James. I will make my own way home. We never need to see each other again.”

James stopped as he processed the words. Nazifa showed no guilt and no sorrow for the man she’d hurt. He backed away from her, sizing her up. Her eyes, looking down at him were filled with a dismissiveness, almost a cocky arrogance. Was Plemenac and Kadrić really worse than Kemal? Were they even worse than Nazifa? He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore.

“Goodbye, Nazifa.”

He kicked the chair out from under her. The noose tightened around her throat, as her body dragged her down into the depths of hell. Her feet kicked for something, anything, but only found thin air. James snatched at a tear that dared to surface for the first time in years.

He stole one last look at the violet-haired girl he thought meant something to him, the girl who had pretended he meant something to her. Her body jerked as death came to take her. Now, she meant nothing to him.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

 

Sarajevo, Sarajevo Canton, Bosnia and Herzegovina

 

Two days after the deaths of Gordon, Kemal, and Nazifa, James shuffled along the sodden Sarajevo street with a cane. It would be a few weeks before his leg healed. The hospital had asked no questions about how it happened or why a bullet had lodged in his leg. Sinclair had already packed, and James remained outside the Hotel Old Town.

They hadn’t talked about what happened at the cabin. There was no need. James as the only man who walked away from the skirmish said it all. James had hidden Kemal’s car behind the trees. It would give them a few weeks’ head start until the snows melted and the locals began to venture into the isolated hills again.

As for Nazifa, James had no desire to talk about her again. The sight of that violet hair had been pushed into the far reaches of his mind under lock and key. There was nothing more to feel.

“Are you going to go back to London?” James asked as Sinclair emerged from the Hotel Old Town with his bags.

He dropped them on the street just outside the door. “Of course.”

“I worry about you.”

“Why?” Sinclair shrugged. “Gallagher didn’t sack me, so I have nothing to worry about. I’m sure he will reassign me somewhere. Only… I wish you were coming with me.”

“Well, Gallagher will never forgive me for this. We will be lucky to get out of Sarajevo without being arrested.”

Sinclair nodded in agreement.

Plemenac’s body had been found the next morning. An early morning walker had discovered the ambassador before the starving street dogs had managed to do too much damage to his carcass. The media online and offline had speculated about the circumstances, but the lack of any stab or gunshot wounds made it near impossible for them to get close to the truth.

Miran hadn’t followed through on his threat to report it to the police. He was a smart man. He knew the police would never believe his story, particularly since he couldn’t claim to have seen anything.

“Maybe I can talk to Gallagher. You are one of the best. When he calms down, I could bring it up to him again. There is always a way back in this business, no matter who you are.”

James shook his head. “I’ve already made my decision. I want out, and this seems like as good a time as any.”

“James, don’t you understand? Gallagher is not going to let this go if you walk away now. He’ll hunt you for the rest of your life. Only this time you won’t have the resources you need to stay hidden. You won’t have me.”

James could only shrug in response. He didn’t have any answers for Sinclair. The penalties of earning the ire of a man like Gallagher were clear. He’d always known that, yet he felt a sense of freedom. A sense of freedom he hadn’t felt before. Straight out of school and into the army, then out of the army and into Blackwind. Someone else had always called the shots.

“Please make sure you know what you’re doing. Where are you going to go?”

James cocked his head. “I have no idea, and if I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anyway.”

His taxicab pulled up at the side of the road. The driver wore a flat cap and puffed away with one hand slung across the wheel and the other on his lap.

“Looks like that’s mine.” James extended his hand. “I suppose this is goodbye.”

Sinclair remained rooted to the spot, speechless.

James winked. “You’re not going to go to pieces on me, are you?”

“Yes, I rather think I am.”

Sinclair embraced James. He lifted the cane and leaned against him. The two of them knew they might never see each other again. Neither of them had the guts to raise that possibility.

As James climbed into the back of the taxi, he raised a hand in final farewell to Sinclair. His friend soon disappeared from view as the car rounded the corner on its route to the airport and a location he’d yet to decide on.

For