Overthrow (A James Winchester Thriller Book 2) (James Winchester Series) James Samuel (reading tree TXT) 📖

The truck came to a halt. It bore large planks of freshly cut lumber stacked on the back. Little splinters of wood floated onto the tyre tracks the driver had dug into the road.

“What’s this?” asked James.

“You can come out. He’s just someone who lives in the mountain villages,” replied Preap.

The foreigners shuffled into the open. If the driver had any reservations, he didn’t show them.

Preap and the driver began quickly exchanging words in Khmer. James couldn’t tell whether things were going well or not based on the ambiguous gestures and the usual smiles.

At last, Preap turned back to them all. “The driver said he would take us as far as the temple. It’s about one hour from here. Climb onto the back.”

Dylan let out a puff of air. “That was lucky.”

“Lucky?” Blake snorted. “It’s only part of the way.”

Dylan scowled.

“He isn’t wrong,” said Preap. “The worst is still ahead. Tomorrow, we enter enemy territory. I wouldn’t celebrate yet if I were you.”

James felt uncomfortable at the tone Preap adopted. As he climbed onto the lumber, he wondered what the Khmer Rouge had in store for them. He looked around at each man in his party and wondered whether they would survive the trial before them.

The truck huffed and puffed through the Cardamom Mountains. Each incline took them higher and higher. James never saw anything but the verdant canopy and the sun tracing an arc across the sky, but he could feel it. They saw fewer and fewer people. Colourful, nameless birds became bolder as they flitted from tree to tree. With every hill, the truck sounded like it was choking on its own fumes.

The hour mark came and went, marked by the movements of the digital numbers on their phones. James felt his skin baking under the glare of the afternoon sun. None of them spoke, each man contemplating their role in the mission.

For James, he questioned why he came at all. Why he continued to torture himself with these missions. Why he risked his life at all anymore. Like always, he never found the answer, a justification to stay or a justification to leave. The truck tumbled on towards danger.

Another thirty minutes passed before they could leave the truck behind. The Buddhist temple, which would serve as tonight’s camp, had long since been lost to time. Nature had come to claim the ruins. Stones had turned slick with green moss. Cracks had formed in the steps leading up to a collapsed interior. Two statues of the Buddha still stood guard over the sacred space.

“What’s the name of this place?” asked Dylan.

Preap sighed as they settled into their makeshift camp. “I don’t know. It was lost to history. It was built centuries ago. Some old men used to worship here, but nobody comes here now. It’s why I chose it.”

The mercenaries would sleep under the stars. No tents, no sleeping bags, and no hammocks. Their food for the evening would consist of a few pieces of fruit, chips, and a few bars of chocolate each. They couldn’t risk lighting a fire and they had to keep the weight down. An extra bag could mean the difference between life and death. It wouldn’t be a pleasant night.

“Do you remember this place?” James ripped open a bag of greasy chips. “Can’t be that hard when you know the road.”

Preap smiled. “I remember the temple, but I never slept here. The road will get harder. For now, this is easy. We were lucky to catch a truck.”

“And your friends?” said Blake. “When are we likely to meet them?”

Preap shrugged. “Some way up, if the base is still active.”

“If the base is still active,” he repeated.

“I know nothing about the current incarnation of the Khmer Rouge. But the Vietnamese never made it to our strongholds in the mountains. It wasn’t worth the losses for them. The Khmer Rouge had no reason not to stay here.”

“What about Pol Pot? He was caught in these mountains.”

Preap gave Blake a pleasant smile. “Pol Pot was forced out by other factions within the Khmer Rouge when he became a sick man and began to lose his mind. That was why he was captured.”

Blake grunted.

“We should set a watch,” said James. “I know it’s early, but we should sleep as much as we can. I don’t want to take any risks.”

The five of them agreed on a schedule for a watch. They decided upon a two-hour watch each, with Preap allowed to sleep the whole night.

All of them were worried, other than Preap. He insisted that they were too well-hidden in the temple, and too low down in the mountains for them to be ambushed. None of them believed him.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Phnom Penh, Phnom Penh Province, Cambodia

Commander Chhaya had everything prepared. He’d gathered together a small team of men from Hun Sen’s elite bodyguard unit. Men he could trust. Men who would sacrifice their lives for their commander.

Night had fallen over the city and Chhaya confronted the royal palace. The more he looked upon the seat of the King the more he questioned his decision. All remained calm. All remained tranquil. The Cambodia Royal Guard slumped at their posts. Nothing of note ever happened here.

“Commander,” Lieutenant Kravaan spoke over the radio. “We are in position.”

“Await my command,” he replied from the head of a small speedboat in the river.

The five-man team he’d assembled were under strict instructions not to get into a firefight with anyone. They were to plant a remote C4 charge and detonate it. Nothing more.

Chhaya looked back at the men on his team. He could see only their beady eyes, watchful and alert. They’d dressed in black with all insignia removed. General Narith couldn’t hope to track them, and the hunt would