by James Samuel
Mr. Arun looked put out by James’ acidic reply.
James walked out onto the patio and took one of the free tables. His heart raced; the adrenaline pulsing through him like a river. He barely thought of General Narith or the battle he’d gone through that morning and completely ignored the as yet untended wound in his back.
Once again, he took out his phone. This time his stomach clenched in distaste as he dialled, but Blake might be his only hope for finding Sinclair. After all, he knew Gallagher on a personal level. His friend could have checked into headquarters.
“Nice of you to finally come and check on me,” Blake began. “Did your conscience finally get to you?”
James ground his teeth together. This was no time to get into a shouting match. “Blake, just shut up for a minute. I didn’t call to see how you were. Sinclair’s gone missing. I saw him in Siem Reap this morning, then soldiers attacked our guesthouse there. His phone rings but he won’t answer.”
Blake didn’t immediately reply. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? You guys have cut me out of this mission completely. I can walk.”
“Stop it, Blake. This isn’t about you or me. It’s about making sure Sinclair’s safe. Whatever you think of me, Sinclair’s always been fine with you. I need your help on this one.”
“Screw you, Winchester.”
The line went dead.
James swore to himself as Dylan pulled up on Nhek’s tuk-tuk. Blake had just given him another reason why he despised working with him. Blake liked to hold grudges and didn’t care for anyone but himself. James sometimes wondered if he should have saved him in the Cardamom Mountains or left him to die.
“Tell me everything,” Dylan said as he jumped off the back of the tuk-tuk and jogged towards him. “What happened?”
James recounted the events in Siem Reap, from the battle with Narith’s forces to Sinclair’s sudden disappearance.
“So, General Narith is dead?” Dylan asked in wonder.
“Yes, he’s dead, and I have the proof to go after Shao Fen. Thom won’t be able to deny the proof when I show him this recording.” He tapped on his phone next to his wrist. “From Narith’s mouth personally.”
“Has Sinclair disappeared before?”
James shrugged. “We’ve had our fair share of problems, but it’s out of character all the same. What about you anyway?”
“I quit my job.”
James’s mouth dropped open “You quit?”
“Yeah.” Dylan’s cheeks blushed pink. “I killed Song Wen. That reminds me, I got these documents. It proves that the coup with General Narith is linked with China’s attempted takeover of the country. You’ve got even more proof.”
James eyed the documents in Dylan’s possession. The young mercenary had truly outdone himself this time and at great personal risk. Dylan had no reason to help him or Blackwind in accomplishing their goals at the expense of Xiphos’.
“You know what this means?” said James.
“I do.”
“I hope you thought it through before you quit. Nobody quits in this business.”
Dylan nodded.
James returned his nod and said no more about the subject. Dylan would find himself in a precarious position for the foreseeable future.
“We should release these to the media when the time is right,” said Dylan. “It’ll strengthen Hun Sen’s position and embarrass China. They won’t try anything again here for a long time if the world knows.”
James observed the assortment of papers. He trusted Dylan that they said what he claimed. “I think we should wait until we’re out of the country for that. Don’t show these to anyone from the government. You’ve done a great job, Dylan.”
Dylan beamed in response. “Now we’re even.”
“Even in what?” said Sinclair.
James and Dylan almost jumped out of their skins as Sinclair planted his girth down on a chair between them.
“Sinclair?” they both said at the same time.
James began the interrogation. “What are you bloody playing at?” Dylan leaned in but said nothing for the moment. “You stopped answering our calls for hours. I rushed down here on a flight to start searching for you. Narith told me that he’d sent soldiers to our guesthouse to kidnap you.”
Sinclair shrugged. “Jacob Finch.”
“Finch? What’s he got to do with this?”
“After helping us with Kravaan, he gave me a bit more help. He tapped into the military communications network and discovered Narith’s plan. His idea was to kill you at the temple and then assassinate me. A two-pronged assault to cut off Sen’s hands and set everything up for the coup.”
James sighed. Like everyone else, he knew next to nothing about Finch other than he was brilliant. The reclusive computer whiz had really saved them this time.
After ordering a round of beers for all of them, James and Dylan briefed Sinclair on everything that had happened since his departure. He returned with how he’d immediately left Siem Reap after James was in place atop Phnom Bakheng. Sinclair’s route had taken him through the Cambodian countryside via the backroads to the capital again.
“So, what now?” said Dylan.
“Shao Fen,” said Sinclair. “Then our job is finished, even if it is already.”
“I’ve got an idea.” James put his beer down. “These documents tell us everything about China’s plans for Cambodia. The Communist Party would shit themselves if these ever saw the light of day.
“Sure, they would, so how does that help us?”
“Dylan, I want you to give me Shao’s number. I’m going to call him personally and make him come to Phnom Penh.”
Dylan looked at him like he was mad.
“Why would he come over for a few documents?” asked Dylan.
“Simple,” Sinclair chimed in. “The Chinese government works differently to the rest of the world. Anyone representing the government is not working for the country but the Communist Party. If Shao Fen was to fail, it would mean his death.”
“He needs those documents because his life really does depend on it,” James finished. “When he arrives, we’ll kill him.”
Sinclair shrugged. “Well, I don’t have any better ideas right now, so why not?”
Dylan hesitated but handed his phone over. They were on a high and they had to push through to keep the momentum going. Shao couldn’t be given the time to recover.
James pressed his finger down and Shao’s number began to ring.
“Dylan?” said Shao in perfect English. “I told you to reserve this number for emergencies. General Narith is dead. Be on your guard. I’m not aware if Song Wen has become a target yet.”
“Shao Fen,” said James. “Both General Narith and Song Wen are dead.”
A violent curse in Chinese ripped through the phone line.
“You know, Mr. Fen.” James could barely keep the smile from his face. “You put faith in the wrong people. General Narith attempted to kidnap my colleague here and failed. Dylan killed Song Wen himself, but that’s not what’s important. It’s what we found.” James waited for his words to set in. “You see, we found these papers, and we had them translated. They would be quite embarrassing for China if they were ever released.”
“Winchester?” Shao’s words were filled with ice.
“The same.”
“What is it you want?”
“For you to come and collect them. You have no chance of launching a coup now. Accept your defeat, collect your documents, and leave Cambodia forever. If you don’t collect them by the end of this evening, they’ll be copied and delivered to the international media.”
“Mr. Winchester… those were not yours to take.”
“And Cambodia wasn’t your country to take, either, but here we are.”
“Where should I meet you?”
“Freedom Park in Phnom Penh. Be there at ten this evening.”
James ended the call and looked back to his compatriots who all had smir
ks on their faces. Freedom Park seemed like an appropriate place to put an end to this. It was the traditional heart of protest and rebellion in Cambodia. The government had conducted countless crackdowns on protestors there.
Tonight, for once, big government would be chalking up a loss.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Freedom Park had only symbolic value in the heart of Phnom Penh. The park itself was little more than an enlarged lawn with a few simple paths running through it. A few market stalls on the periphery sold Khmer specialities by small fluorescent lights. Tonight, James had a plan that would resolve the whole business of Cambodia forever.
“Stay away from this,” James said to Nhek. “Thom must not see you; do you understand?”
“Why you do this to me, Mr. James? You know that Thom killed my brother. You make me watch while you speak to my brother’s killer.”
“Calm down, Nhek. Just trust me and you’ll see that it’s for the best. I haven’t steered you wrong in the past, have I?”
“No, Mr. James, you haven’t.”
“So, you’ll stay here?”
“Yes, Mr. James.”
James patted him on the shoulder and then slumped in the back of Nhek’s tuk-tuk next to Sinclair. He shook his head at him. Never a fan of complications, James and Sinclair had already exchanged heated words about the plan.
Sinclair rubbed his forehead and said, “I want you to know that I think this is a terrible idea. Why did you bring Blake here? You’re walking right into his trap. You know he’s going to try to kill both you and Thom when Shao’s dead.”
James shrugged. “I couldn’t think of a more poetic way of putting an end to this. Everyone gets what they want… well, not Blake, of course.”
“There are so many ways in which this can go wrong,” Sinclair shook his head. “You’re making this more dangerous than it needs to be.”
“I always do.”
James checked his phone. Just a few minutes until Shao was due to arrive. They’d agreed to meet in the centre of the park, underneath the streetlights. The lamps shone from their position above the black iron bars hammered into the ground, like otherworldly globes of light.
He stepped into the pools of light to find Thom, who had arrived right on time but alone tonight, forsaking the protection of his assistant. James smiled when he saw him. It would make his job infinitely easier when the time came. Dylan would already be watching them from the shadows.
“Mr. Winchester,” Thom reached out to shake his hand. “I couldn’t be more delighted with your work, and the prime minister sends his regards. The threat of a coup has passed, and the government finds its position strengthened. I will inform your boss that you have done good work. Very good work.”
James nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Thom. I hope the prime minister can cover up these incidents. We wouldn’t want the public to know what’s happened, would we?”
Thom bowed his head and smiled. “Not to worry, Mr. Winchester. This is our responsibility, not yours.”
A long black car arrived at its designated position, on the far corner of the park. James looked past Thom and laid eyes on Shao Fen in the flesh for the first time. The Chinese had done much to destabilize Cambodia, and James could see the pure, unmasked hatred on the man’s face as he approached alone, as requested.
“Mr. Fen,” said James. “Good of you to have joined us.”
Thom looked uneasy as he recognized Shao’s presence and shrunk back towards James.
“Are you armed?” Shao asked.
James held his arms out to his sides. The documents were tucked underneath his arm. “No. Are you?”
Shao’s eyes appeared to blaze at the insinuation that he would break the terms of their meeting. “Of course not. There is such a concept as honour.”
“Hold it right there.” Blake emerged from the darkness; his limp still visible, but which had done nothing to knock his arrogance. “I was told to be at this meeting. You can’t start without me.” He looked at James. “Gallagher’s orders.”
James sent him a cold gaze, a look that would make Blake wonder whether he already knew about the separate, secret contract Gallagher had assigned him. The secret price on James’ head.
“Mr. Fen, I have what you were looking for. They’re all here.”
“How do I know you haven’t made copies?”
James shook his head. “You don’t. This is a trust exercise. You’ll need to trust my word, or you’re not going to get what you want.”
“Very well.” Shao nodded. “Then I would be willing to make the exchange. The documents and I will depart Cambodia.”
James and Shao both stepped forward. This was the single, most crucial moment of the operation. He hadn’t lied. James was unarmed and had left his weapon in the tuk-tuk. His life and the completion of the mission now rested in Dylan’s steady hand from afar.
He felt Blake lingering at his shoulder, waiting for the right moment to lash out at Thom and himself. James lowered the folder to the ground and stepped away. Shao’s gaze leapt from the folder to James and back.
When Shao stepped forwards to claim the documents, a single gunshot rang out, destroying the peaceful evening. Shao fell to the ground, dead. The citizenry enjoying the park screamed. The cacophony of bikes hurriedly cranking away added to the chaos.
James turned and kicked with the point of his shoe straight into Blake’s ankle. The American cried out, stumbled, and collapsed. As expected, Blake’s gun, already aimed at him, skittered away.
“What are you doing?” Blake cried.
“I know everything,” James snarled. “You were going to kill the both of us when the contract ended. I heard everything you and Gallagher said.” James grabbed Blake by his shirt and wrenched his head up, forcing Blake to look him in the face. “Don’t even think about lying to me.”
“It was… just a contract. I was only following orders.”
“Just a contract?”
“Gallagher told me to do it. I had no choice. That’s the reason he sent me to Cambodia in the first place. He wanted me to clean up after you guys had finished.”
James’ lip curled upwards in disgust. “I should kill you for this.”
“No, no, wait. I saved your life once. Remember Miami? You were in the building and you were pinned down. Then everything exploded? That was me. Those were explosive drones. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me. You can’t kill me.”
James’ grip tightened on Blake’s clothing. “What?”
“It’s true. You can ask Sinclair. I told him. I made him swear to keep it a secret. You gotta believe me.”
James already foamed at the mouth, baying for Blake’s blood. To his shock, as he gazed into his eyes, he couldn’t find the lie. He believed Blake’s words. He realized Blake had saved his life in Miami.
“Go,” James breathed. “You ever try this again, I’m going to hunt you down, you understand me? Where’s your car?”
Blake threw out a shaking finger. “Over there.”
James took Blake’s gun from the ground and turned it over. For an instant, he wanted to level the weapon at Blake’s head. Instead, he fired the shot into Blake’s thigh. Just where it would hurt the most without killing him.
“We’re going to pretend this was an accident. Now, get out of here before I change my mind.”
Blake screamed in agony as he rolled over clutching his stricken leg. He crawled back to his car whimpering and gasping for breath but moving as fast as the searing pain in his leg would allow. If the police arrived and found him at the site of Shao’s assassination, he would take the blame. He would fester in a Cambodian prison cell for the rest of his life.
“He was going to kill you,” James explained to Thom. “That was why he was here, working for a separate client.”
Thom turned white as a sheet. “Thank you, Mr. Winchester. I must go. I must go and inform the prime minister. Thank you, again.”
He hurried away, his voice shaking as he kneaded his hands
together. James watched Thom collect the documents and hurry off through the park to the safety of the prime minister’s office.
“Nhek.” James approached the tuk-tuk. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. James.” He never took his eyes off the silhouette of Thom. “You have done so much for me.”
James offered Blake’s gun to Nhek, who took it with trembling fingers. “Take it. He’s all yours if that’s what you want. You still have a few minutes before he leaves.”
Nhek gulped. “You mean it?”
James inclined his head. “My work is finished. I don’t care about him.”
The tuk-tuk driver’s usual smile turned to one of menace, of destiny. He gripped the weapon with a sure hand and left his beloved tuk-tuk behind, stalking the unsuspecting Thom as he entered the maze of narrow streets adjoining the park.
James watched him go. He hoped Nhek knew what murder did to a man, that he would have to learn to live with himself after carrying out the deed. Men like James were prepared for death, not life. When men like Nhek pressed the trigger, their lives would change forever.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
The plane that would carry James, Sinclair, and Dylan out of Southeast Asia was already parked at its assigned gate. Phnom Penh’s airport catered to the wealthier passengers who didn’t fancy dealing with the scams at Cambodia’s land borders. They arrived with more than enough time to spare.
Cambodia never knew how close it had come to disaster. The few incidents that made the newspapers were mere rumours. Hun Sen kept a tight grip on the media, and so the story of General Narith was never told. Word of his death had been hushed up the moment the contract had been completed.
“Were we ever going to publish them?” asked James as they waited on the forecourt for their driver to unload everything from the taxi. “The documents, I mean.”
Sinclair had packed the papers in his suitcase. James had fought to have the papers sent to the media, but Sinclair had refused to allow it. They’d argued long into the night about the merits of both paths, but in the end, James had relented.
“Maybe one day. This is our out. We could cause a lot of damage if these were ever published.”
