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

“You’re damn right I’m angry.” Baldwin nodded toward his daughter-in-law. “How would you feel if someone used Diane for a similar operation. She’s trained but without forewarning, she’d be a sitting duck. How would you feel then? Angry? Perhaps rip roaring angry?”

O’Brian traded glances with Wilson. She gave him a reassuring smile. Evarts understood his wife’s ploy to get O’Brian to feel remorse, but Wilson was a soldier. Soldiers were put in harm’s way by generals all the time. It came with the job. Still, O’Brian’s response surprised him.

“You’re absolutely correct. It was a rotten thing to do. I sincerely apologize. I especially regret not telling your husband all about it the first time we met. I had just discovered my mole and was too excited to think clearly about the predicament I had put you both in.”

Evarts knew the level of effort that took for O’Brian. Generals never apologized and remorse went against every fiber of O’Brian’s character.

“Aw, hell,” Evarts moaned.

“What? What is it?” Baldwin asked.

“He still needs us,” Evarts exclaimed.

Baldwin gave O’Brian a hard look. “You ass. You apologized just so you could recruit us for more of your intrigues?”

“Your husband is overly suspicious,” O’Brian said.

“Am I? If that’s the case, we’ll be on our way. Adios.”

Evarts stood in preparation to leave.

O’Brian stood as well. “Diane, could you see Greg and Patricia back to their hotel.”

O’Brian extended his hand. “I’m sorry to have put you through this.”

Evarts liked O’Brian. In a similar situation, he wasn’t certain what he would have done different. How much pressure was on him to eliminate his mole? Outside pressure wouldn’t have mattered, O’Brian was incapable of abiding the situation. He would have done anything to reveal the mole’s identity. In fact, he did do something unethical. He had drawn a civilian into a military intelligence operation.

Evarts started to reach out but stopped just short of grasping the proffered hand.

“The Ikhwan has a million-dollar bounty on our heads. You can’t do anything about that can you?”

“With the Templars contained, I can focus resources on the Ikhwan. I promise you we’ll raise havoc with them and with any luck, they’ll have bigger worries than continuing to pursue you.”

“That’s pretty weak,” Evarts said. “I understand they have substantial cash reserves and leaving the reward in place requires no additional effort.”

“Let me think on it a day. I’ll get back to you.”

Baldwin said, “Greg, I think we need to go public.”

“That won’t do any good,” O’Brian said. “The Ikhwan won’t believe a press release or an interview. They’ll assume it’s a disinformation op. They need to get word from a source they trust that you two are bystanders. Please, give me a day. I’ll figure something out.”

“Maybe the French?” Evarts suggested.

“Perhaps, but I’m thinking something more to the point. We need to discredit the leak that you’re a muckety-muck in the Templar Knights. That’s the only way to get them off your scent. Like I said, give me a day.”

“Very well,” Evarts said. He shook General James O’Brian’s hand. “Sergeant, I believe our evening is over. I’ll accept that ride back to the Watergate.”

Wilson nodded and slid out from behind the table. As she stood, her face took on a startled expression. Her eyes unfocused as she listened to her earpiece. Her demeanor caused Evarts to swing toward the entrance. The other bodyguards simultaneously leaped to their feet, all eyes on the general, not the restaurant entrance. When Everts returned his gaze to O’Brian, the general was pulling a phone from his pocket. O’Brian listened and made affirmative grunts while Wilson made a call to order their cars to pull around front. She used a code word that Evarts guessed meant there was an emergency.

What the hell was happening?

O’Brian ended the call.

“We need to leave now,” O’Brian said, more animated than usual. “Someone just blew up the Capitol Hill Club.”

Chapter 41

In a heartbeat, the entire back of the restaurant surged toward the entrance. Evarts grabbed Baldwin’s hand to pull her along but soon felt someone’s flat hand pushing them from behind. He glanced. It was Wilson hurrying them along. They couldn’t run any faster than the people in front. Automatic short-barreled rifles magically appeared, telling Evarts that these men and women were Army assigned to protect O’Brian. The screech of rubber against asphalt meant that cars had come in fast and slammed on their brakes to stop at the front of the restaurant.

As they cleared the restaurant, Evarts turned to O’Brian. “Let Trish and I go with you.”

“No. Go back to the hotel.”

O’Brian leaped into a ubiquitous black SUV.

Evarts stuck his head inside, holding the door open, “General, you know I’m a damn good analyst. You owe us for getting us into this mess.”

“Get in,” he yelled.

Evarts and Baldwin scrambled into the SUV, and before their backs settled against the seat, the big, heavy vehicle was moving away from the curb at a surprising speed. O’Brian was nodding as he received information through an earpiece.

At the end, he just said “Copy that.”

O’Brian turned to Evarts. “I didn’t have time for a discussion out there, but when the two of us get out, my driver will return your wife to the hotel.”

“No, he won’t,” Baldwin insisted. “Greg and I made a pact that we’d stick together until this is over.”

“I analyze data; Trish finds it,” Evarts offered. “She an exceptional researcher. You don’t have a better one on your staff.”

O’Brian looked at each of them in sequence, then just nodded in capitulation.

Baldwin spoke up, “The Capitol Hill Club’s on First Street. The opposite direction.”

“We’re going to the Pentagon. Protocol. Others more capable will handle the crime scene. Let’s get a few things straight. I hope you two can offer insights; however, if you’re to accompany me, you follow my rules. I may have to spend considerable time in a secure room. Neither of you may join me. Period. You’re to remain in my outer office, the latrine, or canteen. That’s it. Greg, I know you