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

“Mr. Smith, do you have anything to add?”

“Why the hell should I?” He leaned into the group. “I take umbrage at several of Mr. Evarts assertions. Our intelligence is world class, and we act when the time is right.”

“You told them I’m a Templar?” O’Brian asked.

“You are.”

“Last year I was a candidate, but when the selection committee became suspicious of my motivations, I was impolitely invited to leave.” O’Brian looked pointedly at Smith. “Surely, you were told.”

“And you ran like a coward.”

“I was one of several who tried to infiltrate your brotherhood.” He shrugged. “I believed I could succeed where others had failed. I was wrong.”

“Why am I here?” Smith asked haughtily.

“I wanted you to meet Mr. Hudson.”

Smith looked quizzically at Hudson. “And who is Mr. Hudson?”

“FBI,” O’Brian said. “He’s your handler from this point forward.”

“Handler? I don’t need a handler,” Smith said.

“We need you to have a handler. From this moment forward, you’re our spy inside the Templar Knights.”

“Go to hell.”

“Let me make this succinct,” O’Brian said. “You’ll do what I failed to accomplish or spend your remaining days at Gitmo. You will walk out of this restaurant under Mr. Hudson’s supervision or under my guardianship. If under me, you will be flown tonight to Guantánamo Bay where interviews will be ongoing indefinitely. You’re ours, either way.” O’Brian let him consider the choices. “Remember, we’re both after the Ikhwan. We won’t force you to do anything to jeopardize the identity of your fellow knights. You have my word as a Mason. We’ll find ways to work together toward our common goal.”

“I don’t need to make a decision. That’s all bullshit. I can walk out of here anytime I want.”

O’Brian drew some papers out of the breast pocket of his suit coat and handed them to Smith.

“The first is a presidential EO designating the Templars as a foreign terrorist organization. The second is your indictment as a Templar Knight. The combination makes it legal for the Army to hold you for a military trial. That will occur at some indefinite point in the future.”

“You can’t hold an American citizen at Gitmo,” Smith said.

“I thought you were a self-proclaimed citizen of the Templars,” O’Brian answered. “No matter, an exception has been made for a conspirator who plotted the murder of our county’s elected leaders and was an operational linchpin to this horrific terrorist attack. You’ll be held for treason.”

“That’s outrageous. I knew nothing about it. Besides, it was an Ikhwan plot, not Templar.”

“We’ll sort that out at trial.”

“You’re blackmailing me.”

“You’re an astute observer of the obvious,” O’Brian said.

“It won’t stick,” Smith appeared worried. “I have friends in high places.”

“You’ll never be allowed to communicate with any of them. Nor your fellow Templars. After you vanish, word will go out that you’re under the protection of the U.S. Marshals in witness protection. Over the next six months, carefully constructed leaks will convince your fellow knights that you’ve betrayed them. If memory serves, the Templar oath includes horrific punishment for betrayal.”

“I’m a lawyer. You can’t con me. That indictment isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”

Hudson spoke for the first time. “It’s legit. We convened a special grand jury after the Capital Hill Club bombing. We had directional microphones on you outside of Walter Reed. Your own words were used to secure an indictment not thirty minutes before we walked into this restaurant.”

Smith looked from O’Brian to Hudson and then back again.

“You’re serious?” His tone was incredulous.

“Deadly,” O’Brian answered.

When no one spoke, O’Brian said, “Let’s order another round so you can think through your decision.”

“Send me to Gitmo,” Smith said immediately.

O’Brian took out his phone and made a call. When the person answered, he merely said, “Bravo,” and ended the call.

When Smith looked perplexed, Hudson explained, “I’m alpha. You’ve chosen B, so now you’re in Army custody.”

“You’ll be shown your new quarters in about three hours,” O’Brian added. “They’re more spacious and comfortable than most cells.”

Four burly MPs entered the private room. They were wearing summer khaki uniforms with sidearms.

O’Brian said, “Take him to Andrews.”

“What about the meal I ordered?” Smith said, incongruously.

“You’ll be served an MRE on the plane.”

“MRE?”

“Meal ready to eat. Goodbye, Mr. Smith.”

The MPs lifted Smith by the elbows and cuffed him behind the back.

As they led him toward the door, Smith said, “I’ll never talk. Even if the Templars believe I’m a traitor, I’ll know different.”

O’Brian didn’t even look up. “Sergeant, remove the prisoner.”

Chapter 72

There was some minor scuffling as Smith resisted and then the room became quiet. O’Brian held out his hand and Hudson put a five-dollar bill in his palm. Evidently, they had bet on Smith’s choice and O’Brian had won.

“Will he break?” Baldwin asked.

“Eventually,” O’Brian answered, “but not in the direction of spilling his guts. He’ll accept the confidential informant option.”

“You’re sure,” Baldwin asked skeptically.

“Four reasons,” O’Brian said. “He’ll be treated disrespectfully, and his cellmates will berate him. His stature is incredibly important to him. He’ll be isolated and shielded from news of the outside world. Being in the know is incredibly important to him. His cell will be Spartan, food tasteless, without alcohol, and he will be allowed extremely limited distractions. Creature comforts are incredibly important to him. Last, but most important, he thinks he’s smarter than we are and will get away with feeding us unusable information. It won’t work but being the smartest person in the room is incredibly important to him.”

O’Brian smiled at Hudson. “I give him two weeks, maybe a little more.”

Hudson said, “If he lasts only a week or less, I get my five back, plus another five.”

“A bet I will gladly pay off,” O’Brian said.

“Can I get in on that bet,” Baldwin interjected. “That toff won’t last the night.”

“You’re forgetting his fifth characteristic,” O’Brian said. “Pride. He’ll hold out a while. Plus, he thinks we’re bluffing. That’s he’s too important for us to treat him like a common criminal. It’ll take a little time to dissuade him of that notion.”

The meal arrived and conversation ended