Read Online America's Trust by Murray McDonald - Free Book Online Page A

Butler looking up into Swanson’s face.
    “The ambassador?”
    “Never met him.”
    “Your reaction, you seemed--”
    “Terrified is the word you are looking for,” replied Butler sincerely, staring into her eyes.
    Swanson began again to feel uneasy around Butler, as that was most definitely not the word she had been looking for.
    “I can’t believe they have actually started!” mumbled Butler to himself as he got up.
    “Will you, for the love of God, just tell me what the fuck is going on?!” shrieked Swanson through clenched teeth. Patience had never been one of her strong points. Butler looked her in the eyes before taking her hand and leading her outside. The clatter of the helicopters filled the air. As they began to move down the sidewalk, Swanson pulled back; she wasn’t going any further without more information.
    “Just get me to the president and I’ll tell you everything.”
    “I’m taking you anywhere near our president. How the hell do I know you’re not part of all of this? Perhaps Chan and Smith are the good guys!”
    “They tried to kill you!”
    “Perhaps I just got in the way and you are so dangerous they took the risk.”
    “They released me!”
    “To eliminate you off the grid.”
    “I don’t have time for this,” contested Butler, watching the first wave of choppers head towards central D.C. “You’ve read too many spy novels.”
    “Or not enough perhaps,” Swanson countered.
    “With or without you, I’m going to save our country, or at least damn well try,” announced Butler, turning and running towards the center of D.C.
    The first shot parted his hair. The second burned his scalp. He had no intention of finding out where the third would hit. Butler stopped in his tracks and turned to Agent Swanson, who had assumed the classic shooter’s stance and was screaming, “FBI! Stop or I’ll shoot!”
    “You did shoot!” he protested, raising his hands in surrender.
    “I hadn’t finished, you stopped before the you, ” she smiled.
    The sound of police sirens cut through even the helicopters above. The diners had witnessed the action and despite the majority filming the scene, some of the diners had actually used their cells to make a call.
    Butler knew he had seconds to make his move. He walked closer and within striking distance. Swanson kept the pistol leveled at him but he was certain she wouldn’t shoot him, certainly not in cold blood. She felt she had the upper hand, the gun pointing at him, his hands raised in surrender. What she had failed to comprehend was just how quickly Butler could turn the tables. His arms were within a distance that would allow one swift motion, knocking the pistol’s aim from him as he spun into her body and with one quick flick of his wrist, snap her neck.
    His only decision was whether she was necessary collateral; he certainly no longer had time to entertain the authorities.

Chapter 11
     
     
    Barvikha Castle
    Russian President’s Private Dascha
    Outskirts of Moscow
     
    Captain Pyotr Bulinov couldn’t help but feel some envy at the world that filled their view. The ultra exclusive Barvikha, home to the political elite and the oligarchs, was a playground for the rich and beautiful. The low-level helicopter flight along the length of the River Moscow would bring them in behind the treeline that sheltered the president’s dascha from prying eyes. The speedboats and cruisers that lined the banks were more than a lifetime’s salary to him. The homes not even worthy of a dream, they were so far beyond his and his men’s reach.
    He had no idea what to expect. The Defense Minister’s orders had been simple: Deal with whatever you find. The president and the premier had been unreachable for over an hour. Landlines, cell phones, emergency contacts, bodyguards, private secretaries – all had been tried and none had answered. With little or no intelligence, his solution was that every available member of the Special Operations Service at