The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) James Best (best books to read all time .txt) 📖

I’ve already given one of those last night in D.C. But you already know that, don’t you?” When Glass didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m not sure how you came to the university’s attention, but you have another employer. Sure, you’re probably on the roster at Baylor & Company, but your true employer resides in Washington D.C. Now, we may cooperate, but only if you start being forthright. Otherwise, we’re out of here.”

Glass appeared neither embarrassed nor apprehensive about Evarts challenging his cover.

“What tipped you off?” Glass asked.

“You mean besides trying to isolate witnesses by putting three thousand miles between them? Mr. Glass, I do press releases. When there is an ongoing investigation, less is more. You don’t give out interesting tidbits. You never whet the appetite to dig further. In a situation like this, you don’t help them with a story, you give them parched verbiage to convince them there is no story. Dullness is also a tool of public relations.” Evarts leaned back. “Also, calling me Mr. Evarts didn’t help your cover. I wasn’t expected at this meeting and there is no reason Ms. Tiller would inform you that I went by a different name than my wife.” He let that sink in before adding, “You were briefed by someone outside this room.”

“Agreed. Will you allow your wife to cooperate?”

“Duck!” Evarts yelled.

Glass did, but when nothing happened, he looked foolish.

“What was that about?” Glass asked.

“Sorry, I thought my wife might throw a glass at you for insinuating that I boss her around.”

Glass looked at Baldwin. “I apologize. We did try to separate the two of you. Your husband can explain why. I’m with the CIA. The United States has their own reasons for being interested in the Pont Neuf Boucherie; as they call it in France. This is a debrief. Will you, Mrs. Baldwin, cooperate.”

“My husband can remain?”

“Yes.”

She nodded.

Tiller excused herself before being invited to leave. Her flummoxed behavior told Evarts she had no idea that this meeting had been a setup. Most academics didn’t like being used by intelligence services, so a strong letter was sure to follow.

For the next two hours, Baldwin relayed everything she could about the attack, omitting only that her husband killed two of the terrorists. Evarts never said a word, but occasionally nodded when Baldwin looked at him for confirmation of some detail. The whole time, the young woman dutifully transcribed their words. Evidently, she was Glass’ assistant, not Tiller’s. Evarts was sure Glass also secretly recorded Baldwin’s account. After she finished, Glass spent about an hour asking probing questions, including questions about the killing of two terrorists. Evarts surmised that Glass had been privy to the classified portions of the French report.

When satisfied, Glass thanked them and apologized for the earlier subterfuge. Evarts concluded that Glass was professional and good at his job. He knew when to abandon his pose as a PR expert, and he asked penetrating questions.

Baldwin asked, “What enticement did you use to gain the university’s cooperation?”

“A grant,” Glass said matter-of-factly.

Baldwin smiled knowingly. “Which will still be forthcoming, correct?”

“Of course, you’ve been very helpful. In fact, I’ll try to get it enlarged.”

“Good idea,” Baldwin said. “Wouldn’t want a press leak about the machinations inside of this room, would we?”

He smiled “No, ma’am, we would not.”

Evarts had been wrong about Tiller being blindsided and Trish had read the room better than he had. Tiller had left bewildered because she thought the grant had been blown.

“Then we’re done here?” Evarts asked.

“We are. And for the record, after I looked at your jacket, I told my superiors that this cover wouldn’t fool you. That’s the reason you were sent to meet General O’Brian.”

“You mean one of the reasons.”

He smiled again. “I stand corrected. I meant one of the reasons.”

Evarts reached over and shook hands with Glass. After being called out, Glass ended up being one of the good guys. A polite, but thorough interviewer.

Evarts asked, “Do you think this is the end of this episode?”

Glass signaled his assistant that it was time to leave.

Just before Glass exited, Evarts heard him speak, as if to himself.

“Probably not.”

Chapter 13

Glass had been overly pessimistic. As Evarts drove home from a city council meeting, it occurred to him that it had been over a week since Trish’s debrief at UCSB. Not a further word. From anyone. The American press had moved on to other stories, the CIA and Army Intelligence must have been satisfied with their interviews, and the French hadn’t even sent a postcard. Most important, no follow-on attack had occurred. Taking out the Pont Neuf jihadists must have disrupted their plans.

As he pulled off the road onto his driveway, a car without lights blocked access to his gate. It looked like a rental, not a government car. Evarts slowed to a stop away from the car and flipped on his off-road LED light bar. He drove a Ford Raptor rigged to light up the countryside. No one in the car. He instantly threw the truck into reverse and stomped the gas pedal. He ducked to steer by his rearview camera when a hail of bullets riddled the car. His quick reaction saved his life. The bullets hit forward of the driver’s compartment. As he backslid into the street, a car hit him in the rear. Not hard. The car must have been slowing to block his exit from the gravel driveway. Evarts put his truck in drive and punched it. As he rose to see where he was going, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial for the police Command Center.

“11-6, 11-56, track Chief Evarts cell. Now! Emergency! Send second detail to home.” Without waiting for a response, he punched the phone to end the call. The car that had rear-ended him was getting up to speed, but Evarts still had a good lead. He called Trish.

Thankfully, she answered.

“Trish, are you okay?”

“Yes, but I heard shots. Where are you?”

“Two cars ambushed me at our gate. Only one has