“More bullshit. You’re not an official member of any task force and I’m licensed to carry that gun. Look in my wallet.” As Evarts checked his wallet for a concealed carry permit, Smith added, “And lady, for your information, this was our operation. You’re just a teacher. Stick with what you know. You can’t playact spy catcher with these people. You’re a fool if you think that little trick would’ve worked. We had a foolproof plan and you ruined it.”
Evarts grabbed Smith’s wrist and twisted it savagely. He went to his knees and screamed loudly enough to draw the attention of the military police still guarding the ER entrance. Baldwin waved them off.
“Treat my wife with respect or I’ll break your wrist next time.”
As Smith stood and rubbed his wrist, Evarts examined him. Evarts could afford expensive suits tailored to fit properly, so he recognized expensive clothing. Smith’s grass stained suit was superb. His wallet Prada and his credit cards platinum. Even the gun was expensive; a Rohrbaugh Stealth Elite. Quite obviously the Templar rule no longer required a vow of poverty. Lastly, a concealed carry permit in D.C. required political connections. Plus, he acted entitled. Who was this guy?
“Who are you?” Evarts asked.
“I thought we already settled that.”
“Not your name. Who are you? What do you do for a living?”
“I’m an attorney. Here in D.C.”
“What did you need to warn us about?”
“The bounty on your heads. It’s still active. If I know who you are, so does the Ikhwan. Listen, just because you caught a minor Ikhwan cell doesn’t mean you’re rid of the target on your back. They still want your scalp, but the job’s no longer being farmed out. The Ikhwan has lost confidence in the mob. Now, the execution will be done strictly inhouse. Whatever’s going on this weekend, when it’s over, the Ikhwan teams in the U.S. will be free to collect that prize.”
Evarts ignored that and asked his next question. “Why did you follow the ambulance?”
“I wanted to see where you took them. To the FBI, CIA, or some other agency.” He looked up at the hospital. “I’m guessing the Army’s retaining custody.”
“Do you have surveillance on the other Ikhwan cells in D.C.”
“Hell, that’s why I’m upset. We haven’t gotten a handle on those other teams. We were tracking this one so they would lead us to them. It was working until you stepped in to ruin our plans.”
“You had their dorms and hotel rooms bugged, so you must have known about the attack this afternoon.”
Surprise flitted across Smith’s face. Evarts had surmised that if Smith knew the cell was going to come after him and Baldwin, then the Templars must have been listening to their conversations.
Smith shrugged. “We knew.”
“When were you going to alert the FBI?”
“That’s a foolish question.”
Evarts was taken aback. “Explain.”
“This war has been going on for over nine hundred years.” He waved his arm to encompass everything around them. “This little skirmish is inconsequential. A gnat. We figured that after these attacks, the various cells in the area would plan their assault on you. When they did, we’d gather them up in a nice tidy package.”
Baldwin spoke angrily. “You would have abetted the deaths of your countrymen to capture some Ikhwan foot soldiers?”
“If that appalls you, then you’re even more naïve than I thought. A few politicians are inconsequential to capturing terrorists capable of leading us up the Ikhwan chain of command. Besides, Templars are my true countrymen. We don’t have a landmass with borders, but in all other respects, we’re as legitimate as any nation on Earth. Our citizens live all over the world, but we’re united with an exceptional esprit de corps, loyal to our brethren, and committed to a common cause. We’ve been around since 1118. We have laws, language, customs, and a governing structure that’s far superior to the one this nation is saddled with. In the end, what counts is victory in this righteous war, not a minor skirmish like this.”
“Even if you are a citizen of this boys club,” Baldwin said, “don’t you have a duty to others? People would be killed. You don’t have the authority to decide who lives and who dies.”
Smith smirked. “Yes, we do have a duty to others. Our obligation is to win this millennial-long war. And win it decisively. Then, and only then, will we have performed our duty to mankind.”
Instead of exploding, Baldwin appeared contemplative. “You said you were a lawyer. What kind of law do you practice?”
The subject change and question perplexed Evarts, but he realized what Baldwin was after when he heard the answer.
“Actually, I practice law peripherally now. You’d probably call me a lobbyist.”
Baldwin’s tone turned sharp. “And tomorrow you hand out review copies of The Vault to your clients.”
“No, my dear, not clients, oh no, those books are going to powerbrokers, people we lobby on behalf of our clients.”
Evarts said, “Damn, you act so sanctimonious and know so little. Those books are Ikhwan surprises intended to destroy the political leadership of this nation. Each book is a shrapnel bomb. If the plan succeeds, the United States will be brought to its knees.” Evarts let that sink in a minute. Then he asked the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “Tell me, Mr. Smith, don’t you find it curious that the Ikhwan is using a Templar Knight to hand deliver packets of death to their enemies.”
Smith face showed shock. “No! That’s not possible. That would mean …” His voice trailed off.
“Yes, that’s what it would mean.”
Evarts stepped forward with his left foot and knocked Smith to the ground with a right cross.
Chapter 68
Evarts waved over a couple MPs and had them restrain Smiths hands behind his back. He must have hit him hard because he hadn’t regained consciousness. He cursed himself because he was not sure he would still be allowed to question Smith. It was a stupid move to hit him. Frustrated with himself, he called O’Brian.
O’Brian answered with, “I hope you have another tip.”
“Perhaps,” Evarts said. “I just took custody of a Templar Knight. He bragged about supervising the team at Georgetown. He followed us from the college and confronted us outside ER.”
“To what purpose?”
“Not sure. He knew our identity. He claimed he wanted to warn us that the bad guys still had a bounty on our heads. Claimed he was a friend. He had inside info on the cell because they had wired their dorm long before we even knew they existed.”
“You have custody?”
“I handed him over to the MPs, but the FBI will probably claim jurisdiction.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to question him. Personally, without interference. Can the Army hold him?”
“No. We have arrest authority only for Army personnel who commit crimes on Army property. What are you trying to learn from him?”
“Is this call secure?”
“Assume listeners.”
“Okay, I got into this mess because someone used us as bait to draw out their enemies. We can’t fully dismantle either of the antagonists. Both are too big and powerful. At least not in any reasonable timeframe. To get us off their radar, my only alternative is to demonstrate unequivocally that I’m not who they believe I am. I can accomplish that with a major bust of the vigilantes. Do you understand?”
The phone was quiet for several moments. Then O’Brian said, “Understood.”
Baldwin was standing beside him and nodded concurrence with his plan. A big bust of the Templar Knights would prove to the Ikhwan that Evarts and Baldwin were not high up in the Templar food chain. If they would leave him alone, he could return to policing Santa Barbara and leave the Ikhwan to the national authorities.
O’Brian said, “I don’t believe we have any authority over this person, nor does it sound like he’s committed a crime serious enough that he can be held. I think the best cours
e of action is for you to keep him close. Since he claims to be a friend, perhaps he’ll accept some hospitality?”
“Understood. As soon as he wakes up, we’ll take him someplace where he’ll be comfortable.”
“Wakes up?”
“He infuriated me … so I coldcocked him.”
“Aw, hell, Greg,” O’Brian moaned. “Is he hurt bad?”
“No, in fact, it looks like he’s coming around. Would you like to speak to the MP?”
“Yes.”
After a brief conversation, the MP handed the phone back.
“Anything else,” O’Brian asked.
Evarts didn’t ask about the escort service lead because if there had been anything he could share on the phone, O’Brian would have already told him.
“Yeah, could you run down this guy’s background and have it couriered over to the hotel.”
“Unclassified only,” O’Brian said. “Probably there this afternoon. What’s his name and residence.”
“John Smith. He lives in Georgetown—”
“John Smith? The lobbyist?”
“Yes,” Evarts answered.
“Oh shit. He’s probably the most connected person in this town and he’s a courier for those special packages.” There was a pause. “You coldcocked him?”
“We need to talk in person,” Evarts said.
The phone went quiet again, then O’Brian mused, “He’s got to be pretty high up.”
Evarts didn’t respond.
“Unless he objects, take him into ER for a checkup,” O’Brian said. “Ask if he’ll met me for dinner at the hotel. Make him accept the invitation. In the meantime, play nice.” There was a pause. “And Greg, don’t make the mistake of believing his reach doesn’t extend to Santa Barbara.”
“Got it.” Evarts took a guess. “Jim, you think his prowess as a lobbyist may come from his position in what Trish calls a boys club.”
“We need to get off the phone. We’ve said too much already. I’ll send over any additional instructions with the couriered background info. Goodbye.”
The phone went dead. That was the first time Evarts had seen O’Brian spooked.
Chapter 69
The MPs had withdrawn on instructions from O’Brian, so Evarts and Baldwin helped Smith to his feet. He appeared more shaken than angry. As he rubbed his jaw, he insisted that he was okay and didn’t want to go inside the hospital. Now some anger was starting to show. Entitled people don’t abide being mistreated by people below their station.
“You’ll pay for that. The punch, my arm, my wrist, the restraints, the lot of it. You’ll rue the day you met me.”
Evarts needed to exert control over the situation by rocking Smith back on his heels.
“I already do. You’re a shitheel in a five-thousand-dollar suit. How can you threaten me further? How? You’ve already sicced the Ikhwan on me and my wife. Big time. That’s why I punched you. Make no mistake … I wanted to kill you. We don’t care about your damn Templars … and at this point, we have nothing to lose. A million-dollar bounty doesn’t give us much choice.” Evarts stepped into Smith’s face. “This is personal. Your so-called status won’t protect you. I wanted to show you that a punch or a bullet hits a Seville Row suit just as hard as it hits a jerk wearing a wife-beater.”
Evarts poked him in the center of his chest with a single finger.
Smith backed away from him. “I’m sorry. I understand we treated you badly, but you need to understand, you’re a soldier in a much bigger struggle. A struggle between good and evil. If we don’t win against this enemy, civilization will end. The future will become as bleak as the Dark Ages. Feudalism the order of the day. Devout Muslims live in the past and want to drag all of us back with them. If they win, we’ll be forced to submit to them or die like dogs. Listen, in the bigger picture, we’re not threatening you, we’re your savior.”
Baldwin got into the act. “Since you fancy yourself a crusader against the pagan hordes, we should be grateful to die for your cause? Greg, maybe—”
“They’re not pagans,” Smith interrupted.
“What?” Baldwin asked, surprised he took offense to that word.
“I said Muslims are not pagans. Our beef with Muslims is not based on faith, but upon the bastardization of faith by very human leaders. They worship a single God. From a faith perspective, that’s all we require. Ask your husband. He’s a mason. Admittance is predicated on an avowal that there’s but one God. That’s all. We don’t care what you call it or how you worship, but you must acknowledge that there’s a single Supreme Being. Muslims believe in one God, so they’re not pagans and may petition to join.”
“But few have,” Evarts said.
“Not because of mason animosity toward Muslims. The reverse. Catholics and Muslims are taught to hate Freemasons. But unlike Catholics, Muslim extremists will use violence to express their hatred. In 2016, the FBI stopped an attack on one of our masonic lodges in Milwaukee. A young Islamist told the authorities, ‘We are Muslims, defending Muslim religion and we will eliminate everyone.’”
Baldwin grabbed Evarts elbow. “He’s running us down a rabbit hole.”
Evarts nodded. “Mr. Smith, here’s the point of this discussion, General O’Brian has invited you to dinner. You will accept the invitation. If you don’t want to see a doctor, we can grab a cab to our hotel and enjoy a cocktail while we wait.”
“No! I’m not going with you.” Smith gave Evarts the stern look he probably used to cow underlings. “And I’m not meeting O’Brian. I have affairs to tend to. Release me and I’ll be on my way.”
Smith half turned so Evarts could cut his restraints.
Evarts let him stand there, twisted like a pretzel until he spun back around with an indignant expression.
Evarts said evenly, “When news of this aborted attack blows up on Monday, we’ll tell the media that you were going to distribute those bombs to House and Senate members. The media will ask if you’re a suspect. Our answer will be that we don’t have enough information at this point to determine if you were an accomplice … or a dupe.”
Smith’s expression turned livid.
“If you defame me, I’ll sue your ass off.”
“Me?” Evarts said, hands thrown wide. “I was speaking metaphorically. It won’t be us.” Evarts shifted a finger between himself and Baldwin. “It will be the government of the United States of America. Good luck with suing them.”
“I have powerful friends.”
Baldwin laughed. “Not after they learn you were going to bomb them to hell and gone. The leaking of your membership in some imprecise secret organization won’t help your situation either.”
“I’m a Templar, not an Ikhwan,” Smith spewed through his teeth.
Baldwin smiled. “The public’s so easily confused. Especially about secret societies and conspiracies with shadowy alliances to other nations.” Baldwin paused a dramatic moment. “You’ll be a leper in this town.”
As Smith considered the implications, his anger dissipated, to be replaced with obvious nervousness. Reputation is paramount to a lobbyist. Being played for a sucker would be almost as bad as being an eager participant.
“What does O’Brian want from me?” Smith’s tone was cautious.
“He didn’t say … but he’s a mason and he hunts Ikhwan like you,” Evarts said.
“He also hunts Templars.”
“Only those in the Army. It’s a matter of command and control. That would be the control part. I’m sure you understand. You have similar issues within the Templars.”
Evarts waited for Smith to think it through.
“Where do we meet and what time?”
“You’re to come back with us to the Watergate. We can have a drink until he can break free. Perhaps an early supper.”
“Why can’t I just meet you at an appointed hour?”
“Because we don’t trust you. Hand me your cell phone and come with us now willingly … if not, we’ll reveal your role
in this terrorist attack and inform the world that you’re a member of a rogue vigilante group that may be affiliated with other bad characters.”
Baldwin added, “We’ll make sure your name is prominent. Your fellow knights should appreciate that.”
“They would never believe I betrayed them.”
“Not wittingly,” Evarts said, “but gross carelessness … still a serious breach of your vows.”
Smith’s expression lost its hard edge. Evarts had witnessed this many times. He was beaten.
Chapter 70
“So, you’re just a tolerant order and your opponents are bigots,” Baldwin said. “Tell me, can a Catholic be elevated to the Templars?”
“That’s different,” Smith said. “The Pope called for our extinction in 1312. We suffered unspeakable torture and death at the hands of the acolytes of Pope Clement V.”
Baldwin leaned forward. “You claim you don’t hate the religious, yet you wage war with the two largest religions on Earth. Are you—”
“We are not at war with any religion. We’re at war with the Ikhwan. The Ikhwan is not a religion. They claim to fight for Islam, but no one ordained them as holy warriors. They anointed themselves.”
They were sitting in their hotel room sipping scotch and nibbling cocktail peanuts. Baldwin and Smith had been arguing for fifteen minutes. Evarts had kept out of it. Smith and Baldwin knew far more than he did about the Templars, Freemasonry, Catholics, Muslims, and Ikhwan. He had not planned this, but her engaging Smith in an emotional argument might cause him to reveal something. By listening carefully, Evarts hoped to pick up useful information from one of Smith’s outbursts.
Baldwin leaned back against the cushions of the couch. “So, it’s all just a misunderstanding. If we all get to know each other better, we can sit around a campfire singing Kumbaya?”
Smith’s face turned red. “It’s way beyond negotiation or compromise. They mean to kill us … and we mean to kill them first.”
The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) Page 28