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said, run.
    “I’ll call for backup!”
    Butler shook his head. “You don’t understand, we can’t trust anyone!”
    “We can trust the FBI,” she replied indignantly.
    “The same guys that handed me over to two killers!”
    Swanson was about to reply but two bullets zipping past her head stopped any further discussion. Butler skidded to a stop, spun and dropped down to one knee, again all in one fluid motion. The shooting position allowed him to fire off four accurate shots that stopped the two pursuers in their tracks. They both slumped to the ground. From a distance, it was hard to tell how badly they were hurt but from the lack of screams, Swanson could only assume the hits were fatal.
    “Who the fuck are you?” she asked in awe. He was fifty-four but ran faster and shot better than anyone she had ever trained with, and she had trained with some seriously tough guys.
    “Let’s go, and will you please lose that cell phone - they’re tracking it!” he asked firmly but politely.
    “Shit!” Swanson threw the phone towards the pursuers without a second thought. This shit was real.
    After another ten minutes of running, Swanson was ready to drop. She could run a half marathon with ease but not at the pace at which Butler ran. He eased up, and she bent over, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the ground.
    “Sorry about that,” said Butler, “but I wanted to be sure we’d lost them. I assume two followed on foot while the others retrieved a car. We probably lost them when we ditched your phone.”
    Swanson looked up at him briefly. Her breath was slowly coming back and her stomach had relaxed.
    “Now can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?” she struggled between breaths.
    Butler looked around again. They were in the middle of a park under a bandstand; even from above they couldn’t be seen. They were as safe as they were going to be anywhere.
    “You’ve heard of America’s Trust?”
    “Of course, everyone has.”
    “Two years ago, when I was working a case, I stumbled across something. Two months later, I was fired. I’ve been looking into it ever since. America’s Trust is a sham. America as we know it is on the brink of extinction.”

Chapter 7
     
     
    Three years earlier, 20 January 2013 - President Jack King Inauguration day
    Oval Office – The White House
     
    “Compound interest, that’s when interest accumulates year on year?” asked Jack, trying to sound interested.
    “I suppose, basically, yes. Over a long period, this can prove very lucrative,” replied Mr. Walker with a glint in his eye.
    Jack remained thoroughly underwhelmed, thinking that a meeting one hundred years in the making should surely be more interesting than a lesson in interest rates.
    “Anyway, perhaps I should just get to the point. The current deficit stands at what, gentlemen?”
    “Roughly sixteen trillion dollars,” replied Lee instantly, this was the number that kept them awake at night, the number they had vowed to do all in their power to reduce.
    “That, gentlemen, is a massive mountain to climb, and your best hope over the next four years is what?”
    “Best case, back to twelve,” replied Jack wistfully, knowing that pledge was going to come back to haunt them.
    Mr. Walker withdrew an envelope from his briefcase; it had yellowed with age. He withdrew a letter and laid it before the president.
    “This is a Trust document signed on the 1 st March 1913. As you can see, the notepaper bears the initials J.P.M. I’m sure you are familiar with Mr. J.P. Morgan. Other names on this document include many of the richest industrialists and families that America, the world, has ever known - J.D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie, John Ford, the Astors, the Vanderbilts.” He flicked the note aside. “I think you get the idea, the list does go on.”
    Jack and Kenneth traded a look of interest, slightly more intrigued with whatever Warren Walker was there to tell them. Both nodded.
    “They decided