This Will Blindsight 99% of Americans 👁️‍🗨️🇺🇸

𝑈.𝑆. 𝐺𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐷𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 𝑁𝑜. 𝑂𝑃-1670 𝐸𝑥𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝐹𝑒𝑑 𝑃𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑒𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑈.𝑆. 𝐵𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝐴𝑐𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑠[Main logotype Expert Modern Advice](   Dear Reader, The U.S. government is gearing up to change how it controls the mоnеу in your bаnk account. This change may seem innocent at first… But when you look closer, the consequences can be frightening… [See what this disturbing change is hеrе.]( Good luck and God bless! [𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝖣. 𝖶𝖾𝗂𝗌𝗌] Martin D. Weiss, PhD Founder of Weiss Ratings In the Service three years, Varney was single, committed entirely to his profession, and looked to Burton as a father figure to replace the one killed in Vietnam. They were looking for someone who had done something in that house. Something that involved the President and that tfore involved him. Varney pitied whoever he was chasing if he caught up to him. LUTHER COULD HEAR THE SOUNDS OF THE MEN BEHIND HIM. They had recovered er than he had thought. His head start had dwindled but it still should be enough. They had made a big mistake by not jumping in the van and running him down. They had to have kn he would have transportation. It wasn’t like he would have coptered in. But he was grateful that they weren’t quite as smart as they probably should have been. If they had he would not be alive to see the sun come up. He took a shortcut through a path in the woods, spotted on his last walkthrough. It gained him about a minute. His breath came in quick bursts, like machine-gun fire. His clothes felt heavy on him; as in a child’s dream, his legs seemed to move in slow motion. Finy he broke from the trees, and he could see his car and was again grateful for having taken the precaution to back in. A HUNDRED YARDS BEHIND, A THERMAL FIGURE OTHER THAN Varney’s finy came alive on Burton’s and Collin’s screens. A man running, and running hard. Their hands flew to their shoulder holsters. Neither weapon was effective long-range but they couldn’t worry about that . Then an engine roared to and Burton and Collin ran like a tornado was raging at their heels. Varney was still ahead of them and to the left. He would have a better line of fire, but would he shoot? Something told them he would not; that was not part of his training, to fire at a fleeing person who was no longer a danger to the man he was sworn to protect. However, Varney did not k that at stake was more than a mere beating heart. T was an entire institution that would be the same, in addition to two Secret Service agents who were certain they had done nothing wrong, but were intelligent enough to realize that the blame would f heavily on their shoulders. Burton was much of a runner, but he picked up his pace as these thoughts flew through his head, and the younger Collin was hard-pressed to keep up with him. But Burton k it was too late. His legs started to slow down as the car exploded out and turned away from them. In moments it was already two hundred yards down the road. Burton ped running, dropped to his knee, aimed his gun, but he could see was the dust kicked up by the fleeing vehicle. Then the taillights went out and in a moment he lost the tar entirely. He turned to see Collin next to him, looking down at him, the reality of the whole event starting to set in. Burton slowly got up and put his gun away. He took his goggles; Collin did likewise. They looked at each other. Burton sucked air in, his limbs shook. His body was finy reng to the recent exertions that the adrenaline had ped flowing. It was over, wasn’t it? Then Varney came running up. Burton was not too distraught to note with an envious twinge and a sm measure of pride that the younger man wasn’t even out of breath. He would see to it that Varney and Johnson didn’t suffer with them. They didn’t deserve that. He and Collin would go down, but that was . He felt bad about Collin; however, t was nothing he could do about that. But when Varney spoke, Burton’s thoughts of the future went from complete and absolute doom to a sm glimmer of hope. “I got the license plate number.” “W THE HELL WAS HE?” RUSSELL LOOKED incredulously around the bedroom. “What? Was he under the goddamned bed?” She tried to stare Burton down. The guy hadn’t been under the bed, nor in any of the cts. Burton had examined those spaces when he was sanitizing the room. He told her so in no uncertain . Burton looked at the rope and then the window. “Jesus, it was like the guy was watching us the whole time, k right when we left the house.” Burton looked around for other possible bogeymen hovering nearby. His eyes rested on the mirror, then moved on, ped and went back. He looked down at the carpet in front of the mirror. He had gone over that area repeatedly with the vacuum until it was smooth; the carpet nape, already plush and expensive, had been a good quarter inch thicker by the time he was finished. No one had walked t since they had come back into the room. And yet as he stooped down, his eye discerned very rough traces of footprints. He hadn’t noticed them before because the whole section was matted down, as if something had swept out… . He slapped on his gloves, rushed to the mirror, pulling and prying around its edges. He yelled to Collin to some tools while Russell looked on stunned. Burton inserted the crowbar about midway down the side of the mirror and he and Collin threw their weight against the tool. The lock was not that strong, depending on deception rather than brute strength to safeguard its secrets. T was a grinding sound and then a tear and a pop and the door swung . Burton plunged inside with Collin right behind. A light switch was on the w. The room turned bright and the men looked around. Russell peered in, saw the chair. As she looked around, her face froze on the inner side of the mirror door. She was staring right at the bed. The bed w a little while before … She rubbed her temples as a searing pain ripped through her skull. A one-way mirror. She turned to find Burton looking over her shoulder and through the mirror. His earlier remark about someone watching them had just proven itself prophetic. Burton looked helplessly at Russell. “He must have been right the whole time. The whole goddamned time. I can’t fucking believe this.” Burton looked at the empty shelves inside the vault. “Looks like he took a bunch of stuff. Probably and untraceables.” “Who cares about that!” Russell exploded, pointing at the mirror. “This guy saw and heard everything, and you let him away.” “We got his license plate.” Collin was hoping for another rewarding smile. He didn’t it. “So what? You think he’s going to wait around for us to run his tag and go knock on his door?” Russell sat down on the bed. Her head was spinning. If the guy had been in t he had seen everything. She shook her head. A bad but controllable situation had suddenly become an incomprehensible disaster, and toty out of her control. Particularly considering the information Collin had relayed to her when she had entered the bedroom. The sonofabitch had the letter er! Prints, blood, everything, straight to the White House. She looked at the mirror and then at the bed, w a short time before she had been on top of the President. She instinctively pulled her jacket tighter around herself. She was suddenly sick to her stomach. She braced herself against the bedpost. Collin emerged from the vault. “Don’t for he committed a crime being . He can in big-time trouble if he goes to the cops.” That thought had struck the young agent while he peered around the vault. He should have thought a little more. Russell pushed back a strong urge to vomit. “He doesn’t have to exly go and turn himself in to in on this. Have you ever heard of the goddamned ? He’s probably cing the Post right . Dammit! And then next the tabloids and by the end of the week we’ll be watching him on Oprah and Sy being shot on remote from whatever little island he’s retired to with his face blurred. And then comes the book and after that the movie. Shit!” Russell envisioned a certain package arriving at the Post or the J. Edgar Hoover Building or the U.S. Attorney’s ice or the Senate Minority Leader’s ice, possible depositories promising maximum political damage—not to mention the repercussions. The note accompanying it would ask them to match the prints on it and the blood with specimens of the President of the United States. It would sound like a joke, but they would do it. Of course they would do it. Richmond’s prints were already on file. His DNA would be a match. Her body would be found, her blood would be ed and they would be confronted with more questions than they could possibly have answers to. They were dead, they were dead. And that bastard had just been sitting in t, waiting for his . Not king that tonight would bring him the biggest pay of his . Nothing as simple as . He would bring down a President, in flames and tatters, crashing to earth without a of survival. How often did someone to do that? Woodward and Bernstein had become supermen, they could do no wrong. This topped the hell out of Watergate. This was too fucking much to with. Russell barely made it to the bathroom. Burton looked over at the corpse and then back at Collin. They said nothing, their hearts pounding with increased frequency as the absolute enormity of the situation settled down on them like the stone lid of a crypt. Since they could think of nothing else to do, Burton and Collin dutifully retrieved the sanitizing equipment while Russell emptied the contents of her stomach. In an hour they were packed and gone. THE DOOR CD QUIETLY BEHIND HIM. Luther figured he had a couple of days at best, maybe less. He risked turning on a light and his eyes went quickly over the interior of the living room. His had gone from normal, or c to it, straight to horror land. He took the backpack, switched the light, and stole over to the window. Nothing—everything was quiet. Fleeing from that house had been the most nerve-racking experience of his , worse than being overrun by screaming North Koreans. His hands still twitched. the way back, every passing car seemed to bore its headlights into his face, searching out his guilty secret. Twice, police cars had passed him, and the sweat had poured his forehead, his breathing constricted. The car had been returned to the impoundment lot w Luther had “borrowed” it earlier that night. The plate would them , but something else could. He doubted they had gotten a look at him. Even if they had, they would k genery his height and build. His age, race and facial features would still be a mystery, and without that they had nothing. And as as he had run, they probably figured him for a younger man. T was one end, and he had thought about how to handle that on the ride back. For , he packed up as much of the last thirty years as he could into two bags; he would not be coming back . He would clear out his tomorrow morning; that would give him the resources to run far away from . He had faced more than his share of danger during his long . But the choice between going up against the President of the United States or disappearing was a no-brainer. The night’s haul was safely away. Three months of work for a that could end up ting him killed. He locked the door and disappeared into the night. [image in footer dar devider] 11780 US Highway 1 Palm Beach Gardens, FL 33408-3080 Would you like to edit your [e-mail notification preferences or unsubscribe]( from Weiss mailing list? Copyright © 2023 Weiss Ratings. All rights reserved. [small logotype footer Expert Modern Advice]( ExpertModernAdvice.com is sending this newsletter on behalf Inception Media, LLC. Inception Media, LLC appreciates your comments and inquiries. Please keep in mind, that Inception Media, LLC are not permitted to provide individualized fіnancіal advіse. This email is not financial advice and any іnvestment decіsіon you make is solely your responsibility. Feel frее to contact us toll frее Domestic/International: +17072979173 Mon–Fri, 9am–5pm ET, or email us support@expertmodernadvice.com. [Unsubscrіbe]( to stop receiving marketing communication from us. 600 N Broad St Ste 5 PMB 1 Middletown, DE 19709 2023 Inception Media, LLC. AII rights reserved [Unsubscribe]( [Privacy Policy](