SAVING GRACE by Mark Posey
A Thomas Billings Thriller Story 1.0
Suspense Thriller Novel
The Establishment: the wealthy, elite power mongers who run the country from the shadows, with eyes and ears everywhere. They are spoken of only in whispers.
When the President-elect and the Vice-President-elect arrive in Rome to visit the Pope, CIA Station Chief Thomas Billings knows it’s not the only reason they’re in town. In the Presidential Suite of the swankiest hotel in Rome, Billings is confronted by Establishment heavyweight Marjorie McBain, who wants him dead.
As the President-elect refuses to bow to the demands of the Establishment, Billings fights being dragged into the power battle. Then the Establishment tries to kidnap the First Daughter…
A specialist in parkour and an expert marksman, Billings needs all his skills to keep the First Daughter out of the grasp of the Establishment as they flee across Italy. With the Establishment closing in, Billings must decipher which of the myriad connections to his past will be his Saving Grace.
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EXCERPT FROM SAVING GRACE
COPYRIGHT © MARK POSEY 2020
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Instinct. It’s a powerful sense. Sometimes it’s the difference between winning and not, finishing and not, surviving and not.
Every instinct Thomas had was telling him to get out of the Presidential Suite. It was too easy to trap them in here.
And then he heard the helicopter.
The rhythmic, bass thwap-thwap-thwap getting louder and louder.
“I thought the airspace over the hotel was off limits…” Thomas muttered as he stepped over to the window and nudged the edge of the sheer curtain aside to peer out.
His gut registered the change in the noise the helicopter was making almost before he was conscious of it. The distinctive sound of a helicopter hovering. His pulse went up.
The coil of black rope landed on the terrace right in front of him. The black rope used by the military and spec ops.
Thomas took a step back and let the edge of the curtain settle in place.
“Have you got a hoody and a ball cap?” he called to Grace.
“I do,” she called back.
“Put them on,” he yelled. “And grab your backpack.”
Grace strolled around the corner and into the living room. “We going somewhere? Because I should let my detail know.”
She stopped dead, her gaze focused over Thomas’ shoulder and went white as a ghost.
Thomas looked over his shoulder and saw a man on the terrace. The sheer curtains obscured a lot of the detail but there was no mistaking the automatic weapon cradled across the man’s torso. When a second man dropped beside the first, he charged towards Grace and pulled her down behind the sofa facing the window. The sound of the helicopter changed and began to fade.
Drop off. Pull back.
He put his lips to Grace’s ear. “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered. “Just do what I say. They aren’t here to hurt you. Do you understand?”
Grace nodded, her eyes wide.
He grabbed her shoulders and locked gazes with her. “I will keep you safe, Grace.”
Grace opened her mouth to respond and Thomas put a finger to his lips. With the helicopter gone, the suite was deathly quiet.
A scrape of metal against metal whispered through the room.
The click of a door latch.
Grace’s eyes flicked towards the terrace. Air from outside sighed in through the now open door.
Thomas strained to listen.
Three quick steps. The first guy was in the room. Three more quick steps. The second guy.
Fabric rustled. Hand signals.
If they knew what they were doing, they’d head down the hall. Toward Grace’s bedroom. Away from the living room. Away from the sofas.
But between Thomas and Grace and the front door.
They had to find someplace else to hide.