The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) by James Best (read any book txt) 📕

“Come on, Greg. You worked electronic surveillance. Did you think we hadn’t made any progress in twelve years?”

Evarts thought about the implications. O’Brian had him surveilled. He knew civilian directional microphones could pick up conversations four hundred feet away. Military-grade gear had to be far better.

“How far?” Evarts asked.

“Classified. But I will tell you we can hear through glass and sometimes even walls. That’s already been leaked. Anyone who thinks you can have a private conversation in this town is deluded.”

“Miniaturized?”

He nodded. “If you see someone chewing on a pen, watch your language.”

“Crap, that’s James Bond stuff. How do you know we’re not being listened to right now?”

“I have minders. They secure inside and out. Besides, it’s noisy in here. Outside of a secure room the only true barrier to eavesdroppers is heavy ambient noise. Listeners would need to aim very precisely. Hard to do from a distance and obvious when close.” He laughed. “Easier to hit us with a bullet than a narrow-field directional mic.”

Evarts couldn’t spot the inside person or persons, but he took O’Brian’s word for it that they were around.

“Then I assume you heard all of my conversation with Jim Lewis.”

“I hadn’t when you called, but I have since. You do a good debrief.”

“Jim, the claim of a reward on my head explains the attack at my home. That was damn quick.”

“Yes. It means the bounty is high.”

“Sky high. To move that quickly means those assailants expected competition.”

Their drinks arrived.

After an appreciative sip, Evarts asked, “Jim Lewis?”

“Not a clue. Literally, not a clue. As you guessed, not his real name.”

“What graves did he visit?”

“None. He stayed on the path. Paid his respects from a distance. He knew we were watching. His man spotted us, and we spotted his man.”

“He had more than one.”

“I heard,” O’Brian said. “Worrisome. I think my crew got hoodwinked. Once they spotted his man, my guess is they quit looking. If there were others, they never saw them.”

Evarts thought a minute. “They probably have our entire conversation. Civilian directional microphones are good enough to do the trick.”

“I said worrisome.”

“Any further indications his warning was real? And specifically, does it include my wife?”

“Nothing yet. I can tell you more in a day or two, but unfortunately, it’s consistent with the behavior of these terrorists. They’re vindictive.”

“Damn.”

“Did you warn Patricia?”

“Yeah,” He shook his head. “For now, she’ll rely on campus police. Disarmed, by the way. Best I can do is patrol the perimeter.”

“Disarming campus police only sends a welcome message to nutcases,” O’Brian said. “Schools are already gun-free zones. A sign on the door hasn’t stop school shooting,”

“Disarming campus police is the rage among student activists. When it was under consideration, I met with the university president and his deans to no avail.” He shrugged. “On campus, law enforcement is seen as provocateurs.”

“Maybe I can get some covert resources applied,” O’Brian said.

Evarts took a sip of his drink before speaking. “Which gets us to the point of this meeting.” O’Brian appeared placid, so Evarts continued. “Lewis’ crew at Arlington came not to spy, but to show me they could muster more people than you. They were showing off for a prospective member.” O’Brian showed some unease. “I assume you made that offer for covert assistance to see their wager.”

“Greg, that’s an odd thing to say. Templars can’t compete with the might of the United States Army. You know that.”

“Who assigned more people to the meet this morning? Who had intel that there was a price on my head and my wife’s? Who knew where I was staying and when I would return from my meeting with you? Who evaded your surveillance and vanished into thin air? How did they know in advance about this dinner meeting?” When O’Brian didn’t offer a counter argument, he continued. “You didn’t anticipate the intercept and know nothing about Jim Lewis.” He waited for that to sink in. “Our lives are at serious risk. If I were choosing a team, why wouldn’t I choose theirs?”

Now it was O’Brian’s turn to sip his whisky to delay a response. “Perhaps you should … at our behest.”

“Like hell,” Evarts said a bit too loud. “They’d never fully trust me, and you’d suspect they were playing me to send you disinformation. I’d be in No Man’s Land, caught in a crossfire.”

“You could pull it off.”

“You want me to assist you in running down the Templars? The Templars? They take out the same bad guys you’re supposed to be after. If I’m going to choose your team, this must be a two-way street. You know more than you’re telling me. If you want my help, help me. What kind of resources can I expect from the Army? How about some intel I can use to keep us safe?” Evarts finished his drink in one gulp. “And I won’t spy on the Templars.”

“Why not?”

“Because it will put Trish in even greater danger. You see that … or you don’t deserve those three stars.”

“Greg, we can—”

“The terrorists are the enemy, not the Templars. The terrorists put a price on our heads, not the Templars. Jim, get your damn priorities straight.”

“The terrorists are our enemy, but to our knowledge, this particular group of extremists don’t operate on our soil. The Templars do. And they’re deep inside my department. I must root them out. You should want to help. They’re lawless … and not your friends.”

Evarts stood up. “I think I’ll skip dinner. I have some thinking to do.”

He walked toward the front entrance. He noticed a man sitting at the end of the bar talking on his cell phone. The phone was oddly held horizonal, straight at the bar table he had just left.

Evarts reached for his wallet and dropped it. As he came up from picking it off the floor, he slapped the man high on his back with the flat of his hand. His upper body crashed into the bar top. In a smooth motion, Evarts ripped the phone out of his hand. Then