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

try to raid Romero’s mansion directly. He made an intelligent decision by choosing this place. He didn’t even need to hire his own men to manage security.”

James bit the inside of his cheek as he considered it. The personal risk was lower with the sniper shot, but if he missed, it was over. Romero would escape to rebuild his operations. Nothing less than perfection would suffice.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Guanajuato, Guanajuato, Mexico

Blake cleared his throat as he threw one leg over the other. He sat on a cherry leather sofa in the living room of an ordinary Mexican suburban home. The white, minimalist interior boasted glass doors stretching from the ceiling to floor, allowing the light to filter onto the varnished wood.

“Fernando,” said Blake without turning around. “What’s up?”

Fernando entered through the backdoor. Blake had seen him coming through the reflection on the other window. The challenger for the throne of Santa Maria de Guadalupe came alone, per the arrangement.

Blake turned to the man he’d helped elevate to within a fingertip of power. Dark circles underneath Fernando’s bloodshot eyes and pronounced lines on his forehead betrayed the burden of power now thrust on his shoulders.

“We can’t find Quezada,” said Fernando.

“Sit down.” Blake gestured at an oak dining chair. “Quezada is used to war. He’s smart and he knows how to survive. It’ll take time. You just have to be patient, that’s all.”

“Patient? It’s a bloodbath. Montoya is pushing against us and there’s nothing we can do about it. He’s going to pick up what’s left of us unless we do something now.”

Blake nodded. He knew full well that Fernando and Quezada were tearing each other apart. Santa Maria de Guadalupe would lose the whole state if they didn’t unify and consolidate their holdings soon. Still, it didn’t matter to Blake who won. He’d already picked the right horse.

“I want your help,” Fernando continued. “We’ve gone this far.”

“My help? What can I do? I’m only one man. I can’t give you an army to fight your battles.”

Fernando gritted his teeth. “I don’t need a gringo to fight my battles for me. I want you to find Quezada for me. I know you could do it. You found him before, and you found me.”

“You’re right. Yeah, you’re right.” Blake got up and paced through the open plan kitchen. “I’ll help you.”

The kitchen of the house didn’t look like it had ever been used. The dark counters gleamed. Blake opened one of the drawers and took out some papers, which he held up for a moment, before dropping them on the counter.

“I’ve got something for you that I think will solve your problem with Quezada.”

Blake pulled out the suppressed Beretta 92 pistol from underneath the papers. He whirled around and fired. The suppressed boom from the pistol released the bullet that put Fernando down with a scream. He clutched his thigh and thrashed around as blood spurted across the floorboards.

Blake didn’t even look at Fernando as he put the suppressed pistol back on the table and sent an SMS message. It didn’t take more than a minute for the front door to open and Quezada to enter the house with a smile plastered across his face.

“You killed his men, right?” asked Blake.

“Quietly,” said Quezada.

“He’s all yours. You finish him off however you want. We’ve got what we needed here. You won’t hear from us again.”

Quezada nodded and squatted down next to Fernando. He scrambled up against the wall, making an awkward attempt to prop himself up in the face of the boss he’d betrayed.

Quezada slapped Fernando like a naughty child. “Hey, look at you now, cabron. Look at you. I made you. This is how you repay me.”

Fernando just glared into Quezada’s eyes. Blake observed the pure hatred emanating between them. He just shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Make sure he doesn’t scream,” said Blake. “Good people are living around here and we don’t want any attention.”

Quezada didn’t take his eyes off Fernando. He slapped him across the face with the back of his hand. The gold ring on Quezada’s middle finger cut into his cheek.

“Why?” Fernando appealed to Blake. “I thought we were working together.”

Blake blinked at him. “Friends? You were useful at the time. But the nature of my mission changed, and you weren’t much use to me anymore. Like a dog who’s too old to rustle sheep, you need to be put down.”

Fernando made a concerted effort to spit at Blake’s feet. The gob of spit didn’t even make it halfway.

He knew what would happen to Fernando now. The Mexican drug cartels didn’t kill traitors, they tortured them. They wouldn’t even leave a body behind for their mothers to grieve over.

“It shouldn’t take you long to finish off the rest of his men,” said Blake. “Then you can get right on with your business. My mission is almost over.”

Quezada drew himself up to his full height again. His lips were thin like he’d sucked on a lemon. Blake felt the hostility radiating from Quezada.

“We want you to go. You’ve caused enough damage to my business and my country, like you people have done for centuries,” said Quezada. “You gave me this traitor, and so I will let you go.”

Blake gave a little half-smile. “I wasn’t the one who put out the contract on you. We’re a business. We don’t ask any questions of our clients.”

“I’m still standing.”

Blake didn’t immediately reply. He knew he had to choose his words carefully. These drug lords didn’t act logically or with any rationale.

“You still want to kill me?” Quezada held his hands wide like he wanted Blake to take him on.

“No.” Blake shook his head. “My boss is pulling out. The client is a liability to us now. You made a deal with Winchester. To