The White House: A Flynn Carroll Thriller - Plot & Excerpts
His plan was to jump. If no opening presented itself, he would have to die with his secrets. The chopper was floating in a dark sea of sky. There were no lights below and no way to determine altitude. But it had to be more than a couple hundred feet, which was easily enough to kill a man. He gauged his chances of taking over, seeing immediately that they were poor. He could take out one guard before the other fired, but not both. He looked over at the guard on his right, who smiled—and at once Flynn recognized him from the torture chamber. He’d hung back, watching like some sort of trainee. Like a trainee, he kept his gun holstered. Instantly, Flynn got the pistol and aimed it at the pilot’s head. “Land or we’re all dead.” The pilot flew on. “I will shoot!” No change. “Does anybody in here understand English?” “Fuck, we gotta blow it,” the copilot said. The pilot turned halfway back. “We’re U.S. Special Forces. You’re being extracted.” What the hell? The guy was Iranian.
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