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ldbeyer.com
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: Old Stone Mill Publishing
ISBN-10: 0996385703
Type: Fiction
Pages: 448
Copyright: September 1, 2015
ISBN-13: 9780996385701
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
When the president dies unexpectedly, it sends Capitol Hill into a state of panic. Vice President David Kendall takes his oath of office — but as dark conspiracies swirl through the White House, can he escape the same fate as his predecessor?
One man holds the reins of power.
One man vows to protect him.
One man vows to destroy him.
Caught in a game of chess he didn't know he was playing until it was too late, the President makes the only move he can, plunging Washington and the nation into chaos. Stunned and reeling, Vice President David Kendall takes the oath of office and tries to heal a nation in mourning. But what the new president doesn't realize is that things in the White House aren't always what they appear to be, and sometimes what looks like the best option may turn out to be the worst. When one fatal decision triggers consequences he never envisioned, President Kendall finds himself caught up in the same game that cost his predecessor his life.
Although there was nothing he could have done, Secret Service Agent Matthew Richter is haunted by the death of the man he had vowed to protect. When his girlfriend dumps him and his boss tells him that his job is on the line, he thinks his life cannot get any worse. He soon realizes how wrong he is when he finds himself fighting to save another president from the deadly forces that he has unwittingly unleashed.
This new release by L.D. Beyer is a fast-paced, action-packed political thriller that will leave you on the edge of your seat.
Excerpt
As the clay disk sailed out of the trap house, the president swung his gun, tracking the target. A gentle squeeze of the trigger and the target exploded, nothing left but dust in the air.
One for one.
The Secret Service agent standing ten feet behind him nodded. President Thomas Walters was a life-long member of the NRA and former winner of the Marines’ Expert Marksmanship Badge. The man was lethal with a gun.
It was a typical fall day for northern Maine. The morning sun had just cleared the tree line but wasn’t yet strong enough to burn away the fog seeping out of the woods. Although the air was chilly, the president and his entourage of agents didn’t seem to mind. Trap shooting was something that the many demands of his office prevented the president from enjoying as often as he would have liked. The way he looked at it, he could escape for a few moments while his Secret Service detail enjoyed a change of scenery. Besides, today it seemed the foliage was at its peak. The red, orange, and yellow leaves, together with the scent of autumn, reminded him of hunting trips with his father long ago.
The clay bird shot off to the president’s left, but he swiftly adjusted his aim and fired.
Two for two.
His father was the one who had taught him how to shoot, the one who had told him again and again that ammunition was expensive—a precious commodity not to be wasted by a bad shot. His skill had come from necessity.
The president changed his angle as another target sailed past the shooting line.
Three for three.
One of his father’s friends, a buddy from his old platoon, owned a cabin on a lake up in Michigan. Every year in November, his father had gone hunting while the future president had stayed home with his mother and sister. Tom Walters was thirteen when his dad had first asked him to come along. He remembered how excited he’d been on the ride up to the cabin; how happy he’d been that his dad thought that he was old enough, man enough, to go. Almost instantly, the happy memory vanished as he recalled how humiliated he’d felt on the way home.
Another clay bird exploded over the field.
Four for four.
On the second day of the trip, he had missed a buck that was grazing fifty yards away. He had hesitated, waiting for the animal to turn for a better shot, a perfect shot. That one second had cost him, as the deer, sensing danger, bolted. He had squeezed off a wild shot, knowing as he did so that it was hopeless. God, how he had wished he could relive those few seconds. He had wanted so much to hear his father tell him how proud he was. The rest of the week was horrible as he dreaded the long ride home….
“What the hell’s the matter with you, boy? There’s no reason you shoulda missed that shot. Hell, I’ll bet your sister coulda hit that buck. Maybe I’ll bring her next year and leave you home!”
It was four more years before his father asked him to go again.
Five for five.
His father was the one who had pressured him to enlist, told him that the Corps would make a man out of him. The president felt a twinge of guilt wondering what his dad would think now when the story broke. Jesus! The press would be all over him like vultures on an animal carcass and all for something that happened almost forty years ago.
Six for six.
At one point, back when his career was beginning, he dreaded that his past “indiscretions” would suddenly surface and his budding political career would wither and die. But, as time passed and his career progressed, the fears had faded.
The target shot out in front of the president. He swung the gun, but not with the same fluid motion. The clay bird broke into several large pieces.
Seven for seven.
As the president reloaded his shotgun, he could almost hear his father:
“Concentrate now, boy! You almost missed that time! People will think I’m raisin’ a sissy!”
. . .
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