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

dude. We guessed it was the boys from Baltimore.”

“Boys?”

“Mob. Whatever you cops call ’em nowadays.”

“Why the Baltimore boys?”

“The shooters were Baltimore contract players.” He shrugged. “Other than that, just the way it was handled. Their M.O.”

“Are you still a Crip?”

“Not for ten years. Got out before I was busted.”

“What do you call this?”

He laughed again. “Bad luck, man. I moved up to La Eme. They protect their guys.”

“Were you told why I was to be hit?”

“Nope. Didn’t care.”

“Were you told there was a bounty on my head?”

For the first time since talking, Jesus seemed hesitant.

Evarts said, “Your answer may tip this into misdemeanor territory.”

“Rumors. All we heard was rumors, man. The street said there was a big-ass bounty on a So Cal policeman. The bonus for your wife made us wonder, you know. If you were that policeman, then the Baltimore boys were takin’ a huge cut for being nothin’ more than middlemen.”

“What was the rumored amount?” Evarts asked.

“One million. For you and your wife. Package deal.”

Chapter 25

Evarts sat at his round conference table sipping coffee as he wrote up contemporaneous notes for the two interviews. It was late and he was tired. He marveled at how politically correct police had become. They used to be honest and call them interrogations. Evarts was too straightforward to believe a softer word spared anyone’s feelings. In the unlikely event he became president, his first act would be to change the name of the Department of Defense back to Department of War. The citizenry, politicians, and the department needed to be reminded about the purpose of armed forces. In Evarts view, euphemisms hindered communication.

The second interview and follow-ups pretty much went in a similar fashion. Both drivers were affiliated with the Mexican mob, sometimes referred to as La Eme—Spanish for The M. They had names soon after they scanned Crips. Neither arrestee had priors. Smart guys. Plucked off the street by La Eme for their savvy and caution. In a way, the Crips acted as a farm team for the big boys. For a vigorish of 25%, La Eme had sanctioned these men for the job. Due to the shooters’ background, everyone assumed the contract was orchestrated by the Baltimore mob. When they got together in the Hyatt bar, they grumbled that if the reward was a cool million, they should have been paid more. Both hoodlums claimed that he was the priority, but they were to kill Trish if they encountered her.

Commander Standish waltzed into Evarts office, imagining it was her space. That was okay. You couldn’t do the job without ego and ambition. She stopped in the middle of the room. Evarts raised an eyebrow and lifted his coffee cup. When Standish nodded, he gestured toward his credenza.

After Standish fixed her coffee and sat down, Evarts shoved aside his interview notes.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Couple of bright thugs. Capable of more than driving. They over-staffed the hit because of your position and reputation.” Her tone turned sympathetic. “You were lucky.”

“Damn lucky. If I hadn’t already been in the garage, you’d be coordinating the graveside Honor Guard.”

“This isn’t over. You avoided two assassination attempts by good fortune and fast thinking. But … well … with a million-dollar reward, the hits will just keep coming.”

His assistant knocked and when beckoned, stuck his head in the office.

“Sir, you have another call from General O’Brian.”

“Tell him I left for the day. Ask him to try me on my cell.”

“He says your cell is off and your home landline goes directly to voice mail.” He appeared embarrassed. “He says it’s the same for your wife.”

Evarts and Baldwin had talked several times since the attack and agreed to remain incommunicado for the time being.

“Then I guess you can’t help him.”

Evarts made a go-away gesture and his assistant retreated.

Prior to the interviews, Evarts had briefed Standish on everything except the Templars. Since she was assigned as the lead officer on the other side of the two-way mirror, she needed context to evaluate the arrestees’ responses. The recording systems remained on and as per policy, and there were two observers. The order to turn off the system had been a ruse to place an element of fear into the arrestees. Evarts ethics would not allow him to break protocol, but he held no qualms about pretending to go off the rails.

“How long can you stall the Pentagon?” Standish asked.

“Until he sends his spy to me.”

“He has a spy? Really? In the department?”

“Or in City Hall. He knows everything that goes on here. Probably more of an informant than a spy.”

“Do you suspect anyone?”

It irritated Evarts that Standish sounded excited.

“Only you,” he responded in jest.

She laughed easily … and then stopped suddenly. “Was that a test?”

He smiled. “Any thoughts on why Baltimore might be involved.”

“Not really. Are they a hotbed for terrorism?”

“Possibly an incubator,” Evarts said. “Could be opportunistic? Heard about the contract and decided to carve out a piece? I hope to hell those Islamic terrorists haven’t made a pact with the mob.”

“I don’t think so,” Standish said.

That got Evarts attention. “Why not?”

“You heard Jesus. He said he wouldn’t have accepted the contract if he had known they were foreign terrorists. He said the mob were their guys. I don’t think he meant they were criminals like him. I think he meant Americans. It might seem odd, but the mob is patriotic. Look at World War II. Crime is their job, America’s their country.”

“Jesus is Catholic,” Evarts said. “You don’t think it was a slight against Islam?”

“Some of that maybe, but the mob protects its turf from rival gangs, be they domestic or foreign.”

“Interesting,” Evarts said. “So, the mob views Islamic terrorists as another gang?”

“Hey, I don’t know, I’m speculating.”

“Still, an interesting perspective. Perhaps we should have called in some mob bosses to consult on the War on Terror.”

“Yeah, right. Then we’d have had more Whitey Bulgers and Jeffery Epsteins. They’d help, but the price would be mighty high.”

“Until imprisoned … then they’d find out