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

George nodded. “You’re not suggesting I had anything to do with this, are you?”

“Of course not. You would never stoop so low, and if I remember correctly you were a good friend of my father’s.”

“That’s right. I was there when you were christened all those years ago. Your father invited me personally and said it was a great honour to have me there.”

“Exactly. And if you could do something about it, would you avenge his death?”

“I would do anything.”

“Good, because I know exactly who killed my father.”

George lifted his head in anticipation.

“Roberto Romero. He lives in Billionaire Bunker.”

Phelps detected the sharp intake of breath from George. He knew he had him right where he wanted him. His father always knew his friend’s associates. They’d shared everything together about politics.

“You know Romero,” said Phelps. “My father always knew you were acquainted with him. And Romero killed him because he went there in good faith to talk business. He told me himself, sent me a message when he landed in Miami. Now he’s gone. Strange coincidence, isn’t it?”

The power of speech deserted George.

“Now, of course, it’ll be almost impossible to prove it in court. Romero would probably leave the country the second he heard about any charges. Then what would we do? My father would have died and the man responsible wouldn’t have gotten the punishment due.”

“Harrison, now, these are really serious accusations to level at anyone.”

“Can you disagree with me?”

George shook his head. “No, no I can’t. I know what Romero is. But I’ll do everything in my power to make sure the matter is fully investigated.”

“Oh, stop it,” Phelps snapped. “You think I came here to accuse you and to demand justice? I’ve got a better plan. Walk with me.”

Phelps and George skulked away from the ever-glowing eye of the Capitol. They followed the pool until they came to a tree far from the accusing eyes of passers-by.

“Now, I know you have deals with Romero. There were investigations. Investigations you don’t know about. Sealed indictments that were going to be torn open when the FBI was sure they had you in an impossible position.”

George’s mouth dropped open.

“I can make all that go away.”

“You… you can? Well,” George continued to stutter. “Well, I have to admit that Romero has been something of a thorn in my side recently. He’s been trying to work around me. There have been some rumours. So maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“But there’s a problem.” George gesticulated as beads of sweat formed on his brow. “Governor Newton is in on this too. He thinks our little scheme is all well and good. If I went against him, he could cause a lot of problems for me.”

Phelps couldn’t help but look away from George and smile. He could barely fathom how hapless George could be. Not only had he called him out, but he’d even admitted a part of his collaboration he’d never known about before. Phelps knew he had George by the balls.

“I understand but remember he’s only a governor. You’re a senator. You have influence in Washington. He only controls his state. If you get me what I want, I’ll make sure every piece of evidence against you is destroyed and every accusation is heaped upon Governor Newton’s shoulders. When we’re through with him, they’ll throw the book at him.”

“What do you want, Harrison?”

“The party already has a contingency plan locked in. My father might not have been popular with the public, but he was a friend to everyone on the Hill. He gave most of these senators their starts in politics, and they know they owe it to his memory to support me.” Phelps turned to George. “I’m going to take my father’s old seat. I’ll run for his seat in the special election in Virginia and carry on my father’s noble work. In the meantime, I want to see Romero dead. I want everything he’s worked for to crumble around him. People like him are not welcome in these United States.”

“You’re right,” George said with the ebullience of a new convert. “Absolutely, I couldn’t agree more. Really, Harrison,” he uttered an annoying laugh, “You’ll go far thinking like that.”

Phelps stifled his irritation with the sycophant before him. His father had always wanted him to join him in Congress, but his father’s unpopularity made it too risky for him to run for election and risk a humiliating defeat. The sympathy his father’s death would create would guarantee him the seat now. The opposition might even consider it too tasteless to nominate a candidate to run against him.

“Just be ready, George,” said Phelps. “I’ll be in touch.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, Mexico

James and Diego stood to attention in the early morning half-light. Vargas would come soon. Diego had moved his Land Rover into the grounds and locked the front gates behind him. He’d transported an entire armoury inside the house, cramming it all into the bedroom. Martina had moved Juliana to the upper annex of the house for safety.

“We need to watch every side of the house,” said Diego. “The narcos are well-equipped, better equipped than the police. And Vargas has had time to prepare. Who knows what he’s going to throw at us?”

“Is everything loaded?”

“Yes.”

The thunderous growl of an engine cut their conversation short. They snapped their heads up. It could only be Vargas at this time in the morning. It could only be the onslaught.

“Will Vargas be leading the attack?”

“Yes. People like that always think they have big balls. It would be a humiliation if he sat in the car.”

They continued to listen to the growling engine in the distance, but this time another sound joined it. It sounded like a large mosquito.