Failed State (A James Winchester Thriller Book 1) (James Winchester Series), James Samuel [most read books in the world of all time TXT] 📗

if he doesn’t take him alive – which is a strong possibility – should I lead him to Lake Yuriria? Time is running out. We don’t know how far along Quezada is. She might be ready to break already.”

Blake rolled his eyes at that. “Do you really think we would allow that union to take place? We will simply have her or him assassinated at the ceremony should it come to that. Quezada will never succeed.”

“Then why all this? Just kill her now and save all the trouble.”

“No,” Blake hissed. “The plan must proceed as directed. That means Winchester must follow the path chosen for him.”

“But why?”

“The cartels will rip each other apart.” Blake tapped the side of his nose. “Winchester must do it this way because that’s what the client wants. You know I can’t say anything more than that. This is what must be done, even if it puts Winchester’s life at greater risk.”

Sinclair sighed. He felt like James had become something of a sacrificial lamb in all this. Whomever the client was wanted total war among the cartels. He couldn’t allow Quezada’s plan to succeed through either absorbing La Familia or destroying them. Gallagher was using James like a tool, forcing him to do things he never wanted to do. How many thousands would die over this episode?

“And if Vargas doesn’t say anything about Jessi?” asked Sinclair.

“Then what?”

“Can I lead him to Yuriria?”

“No, then he should target Parejo. Those are Quezada’s two top lieutenants. Part of me hopes Vargas says nothing just so we send Winchester after Parejo as well. Those two are the eyes and ears of Quezada. Without them, he will have to take greater risks. Employ less trustworthy men. Show his face for us to take aim at.”

“Fine. But this better be for the greater good.”

“The greater good?” Blake scoffed. “The only greater good is what the client believes is the greater good.”

Sinclair’s mouth folded into a thin line. “Why are you even here? All this working in the shadows. Is this how we operate now? Keeping secrets from the people we are supposed to be working with?”

Blake shrugged. “That’s what Gallagher wants. Those are my orders.”

“Orders… Gallagher could have called himself, rather than sending you. If this puts James in –”

“This won’t put Winchester in harm’s way. No more harm than he usually finds himself in, at least.” Blake leaned forwards on his elbows. “Sinclair, this is how it has to be. Gallagher has ordered it done this way because, in his eyes, Winchester is one of the best people we have.”

“What about your eyes?”

“He’s always desperate to do good. If he wanted that, he should have been a missionary.”

“I agree that James has strong moral convictions. I will even go as far as to agree that they can get in the way. Sometimes it’s necessary to not tell him the full story, from a business standpoint, but what’s wrong with caring about the local people?”

“These people? Look at them, they’ve barely started wearing shoes.”

Sinclair swallowed his irritation. “You still hate each other, don’t you?”

Blake took a long guzzle of his cognac. “Winchester needs to know his place. Someday, Gallagher will see him for the liability he is. Until that time, I’ll carry out my orders to the letter.”

Sinclair let the subject drop. He didn’t like the tone in Blake’s voice. He sometimes wondered whether James’ brilliance was the only thing keeping him from being liquidated by his own side.

Chapter Thirty-One

Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, Mexico

 

Two days passed as they waited for Vargas’ arrival. James and Diego took four-hour shifts watching from the little bedroom overlooking the driveway. The room they chose to keep watch from appeared like the only neglected room of the home. The original wooden beams remained, and the walls had been whitewashed, but all the furniture seemed tattered and rundown.

On the morning of the third day, Diego entered the bedroom to relieve James. Diego wore an irritated scowl on his face.

“From what you told me about Mexican men,” James said in disgust, “I never thought Vargas would allow his mother to rot like this.”

Diego stalked to the open window and spat outside. “This is getting ridiculous. We should just kill the old woman and come up with another plan. Vargas is laughing at us.”

“No.” James turned away from the window. “I’m not killing an old woman for the crime of giving birth to the wrong son. She has nothing to do with this. All we have to do is keep waiting. Sooner or later, he’ll respond.”

Diego growled under his breath. “You have too much faith in these narcos. Most of them are nothing but narco juniors.”

“You’ll need to explain that one to me.”

“Narco juniors. The sons and daughters of the older narcos. Those old men had a sense of honour. They kept it strictly business. What you see today are their children. They never knew poverty and they never had the need to get into this business. They grew up in high-class neighbourhoods smoking, drinking, and snorting their parents’ money away.”

“Glad to see your optimistic views on society.” James got up from the chair they’d dragged in front of the window. “Give it time. He’ll come. Let me go talk to Martina and see if I can get her to do anything about it.”

Diego replaced James at the window and propped his elbows upon the sill.

Martina was the nurse who diligently cared for Juliana throughout the day and night. James marvelled at her work ethic. She constantly cared for her every need and never complained once.

James found her lapping from a mug of coffee at the kitchen island. She didn’t make eye contact with him when he entered.

“Are you okay?” asked James in Spanish.

“Okay? Okay? You two hold me hostage,