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

had the look of a ranchero about him. His wrinkled eyes and cheeks that resembled instant coffee powder meant people underestimated him. Unlike many of his allies, Pedro could blend in with a crowd.

“Then they’ll die too. They’ll see the future. We are the future.”

The narcos nodded along with him. He didn’t expect cheering crowds or profusions of loyalty, only that they did as ordered.

“If anyone wants to leave now, they can,” said Fernando in a threatening tone.

Nobody moved.

“Martin will give you your orders.” He gestured to the man in sunglasses on his left. “Don’t waste any time mourning our leader. He wouldn’t have wanted us to risk Santa Maria for anything.”

Fernando strode into the kitchen as his phone rang and the chatter kicked up again. Pedro shadowed him. They’d entered the cartel at almost the same time. Both had risen, but Fernando had risen faster. They weren’t friends but they respected each other.

He picked out his phone to find Blake’s number staring back at him. It must be the confirmation.

“Yes?”

“We have a problem,” said Blake. “Quezada is alive.”

Fernando clutched the phone to his ear. “What?”

“According to my man, Quezada managed to escape. He still leads your cartel.”

Fear, cold and chilling, shot through every inch of his body. Far from wrestling control of a leaderless ship, this meeting had now become an act of rebellion. It wouldn’t take long for Quezada to find out.

“Are you still there?” asked Blake.

“Yes, yes.”

“There’s no going back now. Take control. It’s all about momentum. Whether he’s alive or not, you become leader or you die.”

Fernando couldn’t deny the logic. Cartels had no tolerance for betrayal. Traitors were rarely killed cleanly but through torture. It wasn’t uncommon for their families to turn up dead as well. He wouldn’t go out like that after struggling for so long.

He glanced at Pedro just a few feet away. “Can you help with that?”

“No. I’ve done enough. It’s not my place to interfere directly. You want it so badly, you take it.”

“You need me.”

Blake raised his voice. “I don’t need you for nothing, remember that. Our partnership is convenient, but I’ll sell you down the river without thinking twice about it. You want it, you take it. Quezada escaped from his aunt’s hacienda in Yuriria. That’s all you need to know.”

Fernando didn’t have a chance to reply as Blake hung up the phone. He had to kill Quezada himself before he made his presence known. But telling his loyalists might risk them turning back to Quezada. They all believed he’d died in that hacienda.

“What’s wrong?” asked Pedro.

He wrestled with what to do next. His life, and the lives of his loved ones, hung by a thread. Fernando believed in his own strength, but he couldn’t do this alone. The risk was too high.

“Can you keep a secret, Pedro?”

Chapter Fifty-Two

Guanajuato, Guanajuato, Mexico

 

James returned to Guanajuato with a sickening feeling in his stomach. The newspapers told the tale of a war he started. The violence had escalated to unimaginable levels throughout Guanajuato. Mass shootings had become commonplace. Journalists were dying. Innocents lay dead in shallow graves. Nobody could keep up with violence.

Early one morning, James found himself standing at his window looking out over the city. The lights of Guanajuato twinkled below and up the sides of the valley. He held his phone to his ear, speaking in a low staccato.

“This is a war I started,” said James. “I should have never allowed Quezada to go.”

“It’s not your fault,” replied Sinclair. “Fernando Gomez is claiming Quezada’s place. It’s a bloodbath. The papers only report on a fraction of the incidents. My sources say the bodies are piling up. They turned up another mass grave outside Dolores Hidalgo.”

James clenched his fist. “Have you spoken to Blake?”

“Not yet. He would only deny it. But now it all makes sense. He wants Quezada and his cartel destroyed. He’s looking after the interests of the client.”

He gulped. Everything that had passed between them had all started to connect. His hunch flashed like an alarm.

“So, Romero…”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” James breathed.

“I believe I am.”

“Roberto Romero isn’t just another drug smuggler. He’s the client. He hired Blackwind to begin with…”

“And Blake’s here to make sure everything happens as Romero wants it. That’s why he’s been so secretive. That’s why Gallagher hasn’t said a thing about who the client is. This is dirty, James, really dirty.”

He paced around the bare living area. The truth had always felt just out of reach, like they were missing something. Quezada was right. Romero was the greatest threat Mexico had faced in decades. The puppet master pulling the strings from Florida.

“I’m being played for a fool,” he said at last.

“We all are. Blake never went rogue or turned traitor. He was doing exactly what he was ordered to do. Romero wants the cartels to tear each other apart. That way he’s dealing with lots of small cartels and then he dictates the price. If he has control over smuggling routes to the US, he has no rival.”

James cursed under his breath. “What do we do now?”

“We have to move fast. If we stay quiet, we can claim ignorance. Gallagher couldn’t criticise us for killing a client if he believed we never knew who the client was to begin with.”

He grabbed a tuft of his ebony hair in despair. “Where’s Blake?”

“No, James, don’t do it. Let him think he’s won. Plead ignorance because when this is all over, we’re going to have to explain ourselves. Don’t give Blake and Gallagher anything to work with.”

“Alright. You’re right. When can we get to Romero?”

“Romero is in Miami. I can get you the usual clearances to give you a new identity to get through