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

He allowed the soldiers to begin massing at the clearing. James knew these troops were nervous. They’d heard the stories from Narith about the threat he posed. None of them came any further. They wanted to mass their strength before searching the temple.

James’ lips tightened into something resembling a smile. When at least eight or nine soldiers had crested the hill, he opened fire with the carbine. The assault rifle burst into life and three men dropped to the ground. The others scattered for cover, throwing themselves into the brush.

He stopped firing and disappeared from his position to hide behind the jutting stone sculptures. A lesser man would have kept firing. James wanted to keep them on their toes. To keep his position hidden for as long as possible.

The soldiers shouted and screamed at each other. More reinforcements entered the clearing with their weapons raised. They stepped over the fallen bodies of their comrades without a second look. The new arrivals formed a perimeter around the clearing, their weapons pointing forwards.

James retreated further into the temple and ran at a crouch, altering his position so he was staring at the clearing from the distant right. He reset himself and pointed the carbine back at the clearing. Slowly, the soldiers who had survived the first volley emerged from the brush to join the reinforcements.

Once again, James fired at the massing soldiers. Two more dropped to the ground, dead. He raked the ground, the bullets catching a couple more in the legs. Realising their mistake, the soldiers poured into the temple complex without hesitation. Little squads of three or four split up and began to probe the grounds.

He gritted his teeth and retreated again. If they caught him in the open, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Getting pinned down would mean certain death. James kept moving. He ascended another set of steps to the topmost point of the temple. The Khmer continued to shout orders around him.

James crossed the top floor of the temple and descended via the other side. He noticed a three-man team moving around the outer edge of the temple, trying to flank him. The Khmer knew the heritage of Phnom Bakheng like the backs of their hands. He stood and fired down upon the unfortunate team from above. The well-aimed bullets obliterated the squad, tearing their bodies to pieces.

The soldiers in the grounds shouted out in anguish. James fled back up to the uppermost level again. He had to find a way off the temple. They were closing in fast. On the flat ground, with little cover, if they caught him here, he had no chance.

In their rage, the soldiers had given away their positions. He started in the direction where he’d heard the fewest voices. James jumped down the last couple of steps as a burst of gunfire followed him. He rounded a corner. General Narith’s forces were getting warmer.

“Fucking hell,” James cursed.

James made his way towards the exit. A group of four appeared. He let loose, forcing them to retreat. One soldier fell, the rest fled for their lives the way they came.

The path was clear. He moved down to the bottom level at the far end of Phnom Bakheng. There were just two routes around to the other side. Long, straight and without cover, two alleys of death to choose from.

James inched his way along to the corner of the temple. The retreating soldiers fired, peppering the ancient walls with their bullets. He fell to the ground, lying prone. All his training told him to stay down and invite them to come to him. Reality forced him to get up and fight back.

He pulled out one of his M9s and fired blindly around the corner. James squeezed the trigger until he emptied the cartridge. Equipping his M4A1 again, he darted out from the corner and sprayed the entire passage in front of him. The soldiers had gone. Another two were dead, their blood seeping into the morning dew clinging to each blade of grass.

The game of cat and mouse continued as James sprinted past these bodies. There was no doubt now. They knew where he was.

A few orange streaks blazed across the sky. It gave him a sense of urgency. He couldn’t allow this to carry on too long. He couldn’t have the public witness his actions.

James continued to battle his way around the perimeter of the temple. What soon became clear was the fear. The soldiers looked upon him with terror. The barang with heavy weapons charging them. It put them on the backfoot and allowed James to make it back to where he’d started.

With a trail of dead littering the temple grounds, the soldiers fell back to the clearing and the hill. James continued to chase them back. When he finished sweeping the temple grounds clean, he turned his attention to the way down. This is where the real battle would begin.

James replaced his spent cartridges and reset himself. As he made his way to the hidden cache of weapons in the greenery, his mouth opened. A cry but with nothing coming out. A burning spread through his shoulders and chest, like a raging hot metal had entered him. It had entered him. That familiar feeling. He’d been shot.

He whipped around, fighting off the pain. Raising his weapon, he fired at the lone, injured soldier who had fired from the ground. The bullets ripped the young man’s face apart, rendering him unrecognisable.

James took in deep gulps of air as he grasped at the searing pain. He ripped the top part of his shirt open and felt the Kevlar. The bullet had caught him on the corner of the vest. It had penetrated. Blood poured from the wound. He felt the bullet half sticking out of his flesh