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finally revealing himself.
    “Analyst?” she asked sarcastically.
    Butler shrugged his shoulders. “I analyze situations,” he offered with a smile.
    “For who?”
    “For whom,” he corrected.
    “Fuck, whatever!”
    “Formerly the CIA.”
    “So you were downsized?”
    “Hmm, I think fired would be more appropriate.”
    “That doesn’t sound good,” she said with some concern, wondering whether Chan and Smith really were the good guys.
    Butler watched as she looked at Chan and Smith. “Trust me, I’m not your problem here.”
    “Are they CIA?” she asked watching the two become twitchier. Her sitting back down had unnerved them.
    “I’m not sure. Hired assassins, probably,” mused Butler, refusing to look at them.
    “So they were going to kill you?”
    “Right about the time you drove your car at them. Smith was about to pull the trigger when we had to brake.”
    “Holy fuck!” she exclaimed a little too loudly and caused a number of patrons to turn and look at them.
    Butler threw a look towards the other patrons that resulted in them all suddenly finding whatever food lay before them far more interesting than anything else.
    “I do therefore owe you a very heartfelt thank you,” said Butler.
    Swanson looked deep into the eyes of a man she had arrested the previous day, just spent the last hour with, and it seemed had just met in the last few seconds. The man before her bristled with confidence, sat straighter and sounded far more commanding than the man she had arrested.
    “Who exactly the fuck are you?” she asked again.
    “A great friend and a truly terrifying enemy,” he replied while watching another Chrysler pull to a stop.
    “And how should I view you?” she asked, her hand moving towards her Glock. She was going to have to choose sides. She had noticed the other car draw to a stop and three men had exited. It was five against two and Butler was unarmed.
    “If your hand moves any closer to your gun, I’ll be your killer but if you hand me the gun, I’m your only hope!”
    “I thought you said they wouldn’t come in?” she asked, the tension was palpable.
    “I was wrong!” he replied simply. “But if we don’t move now, a lot of innocent people are in danger!”
    Swanson considered the threat and Butler’s concern for the other diners and made an instant decision that she’d have to live with for the rest of her life, however long that would be.
    “Run!” he said.
    “What the fuck do you mean run?”
    “Back door, hit it and run for our lives.”
    “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she said as they both stood up and Butler led the way towards the restrooms. They watched as the five men, as one, moved towards the diner’s entrance. Chan raised his hand to his mouth. He was communicating with someone, whoever was covering the back, Swanson thought.
    Before she had a chance to tell Butler, he swept past her, hit the emergency bar on the fire escape with his back and turning through one hundred and eighty degrees, raised his hand, and in one swift and seamless move, removed Swanson’s Glock from her holster and shot the two men waiting for them in the alley to the rear. Swanson stood helpless; her backup weapon was in her Audi parked out front.
    The noise of the Glock was followed quickly by the front door of the diner crashing open. All hell had broken loose. Swanson was not unaccustomed to firefights but was used to a significantly larger force than the opposition and usually benefitted from having her own weapon.
    Butler grabbed her free hand and catapulted her through the door with him. The two ambushers were down. Butler handed Swanson her weapon while retrieving one from the ground as they sprinted down the alley. The first shots rang out just as they cleared the corner.
    “Fuck!” screamed Swanson, her adrenaline pumping to levels she had never before thought possible.
    Butler just kept running. He wasn’t kidding, she thought, his plan is exactly what he