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

secret that a few key lobbyists have advance copies of The Vault. The lobbyists don’t even need appointments to hand them out because everyone on the Hill is clamoring for a copy, and most have tasked aides to pick them up personally.”

Evarts hugged his wife. “What a call. I never would have thought of lobbyists.”

Everyone was grinning, but their faces froze when Wilson said, “That’s not all.”

“What else? Come on!”

“Books can be picked up any time Friday. Each copy is supposedly encased in a hard-plastic vault with a timer that won’t release until seven PM Friday night. Everyone gets to read it at the same time … wherever they are. They’re calling it the best book-launch stunt ever.”

“Bingo!” Evarts exclaimed a little too loudly.

“Hey, keep it down,” someone said from the next table. “I’m trying to hear my news feed.”

Evarts looked around and felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. The other customers were also engrossed in their electronic devices.

“Has something happened,” Evarts asked.

“I’ll say. Congressman Johnson of New York has been killed in an explosion.”

Chapter 47

They all checked their phones for news. Congressman Roger Johnson had been returning to the capitol when his limo exploded. An aid said he had been running an errand during the lunch break. Since Johnson’s car had pulled onto capitol grounds, the Capitol Police had jurisdiction for the investigation. When the chief was interviewed, he said he had invited the FBI to assist with certain aspects of the tragedy. Evarts assumed certain aspects included analysis of the explosive materials.

“Let’s get out of here,” Evarts said.

In a few minutes they paid the bill and returned to Wilson’s room. Since these were government ordered rooms, Evarts and Baldwin had not been assigned a suite, nor had they attempted an upgrade. Evarts had reminded Baldwin that they needed to change their habits.

“I guess he was eager to see the contents,” Evarts said from a seat by the window.

“Now we know what happens if you try to pry it open,” Baldwin added.

Wilson was sitting on the bed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t know if he even had the book, no less was tampering with it.”

Evarts and Baldwin both gave her a long look.

Wilson gave up. “Okay, it looks plausible.”

Evarts smiled. “You’re a good cop, sergeant. We shouldn’t get ahead of the evidence … except in a critical time crunch. Then you need to make a few calculated guesses.”

Wilson nodded. “We have enough. We need to report to General O’Brian.”

“Do it,” Evarts said. “Tell the general this is a handoff to his team. Remember, we’re in New York on a mission. We need to get over to Methow’s.”

Wilson nodded and made the phone call. Evarts and Baldwin listened to Wilson’s side of the conversation, occasionally interjecting a point or concern. It was short, like all calls with O’Brian. When she ended the call, Wilson appeared pleased.

“We have his thanks,” Wilson said. “He thinks our scenario makes sense and he’ll get an investigative team right on it. He instructed us to hold off on Methow until tomorrow morning. If The Vault is the delivery system, they can thwart it without alerting Methow that his identity has been blown.”

“What did he say about Jakarta?” Evarts asked.

“Ali as-Saad is there with two assistants, but the CIA asset couldn’t get close to their quarters. Security at the faculty residence is tight. Guest academics want their privacy. He’ll audit his class tomorrow, which is this evening for us. His plan is to shadow him after class as long as he can.”

“Okay, then we have the afternoon free,” Baldwin said. “Let’s catch up on our sleep.” When everyone nodded, she added, “Meet for dinner at seven?”

When they returned to their own room, Evarts said, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” Baldwin asked.

“Everything about this plan has been brilliant … except this. Think about it. A congressman sits in the back of a limo, fiddles with the plastic casing and boom, the bomb goes off. The books weren’t supposed to be distributed until Friday. How did he get hold of one on Wednesday?”

“Lobbyists are influence peddlers,” Baldwin said. “If an early handoff gets bonus points, few could resist.”

Evarts shook his head. “The Ikhwan know that. They’d have safeguards. I’ll bet the books aren’t delivered to the lobbyists until tomorrow. Early detection would not only alert authorities, but it would also inform the publisher about this hoax, and they’d rush to deny that review copies even existed. No, this is too sophisticated of a plot to allow one rogue congressman to spill the beans.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“This may be a diversion.”

“How can we tell?” Baldwin asked.

“We’ll know soon enough. If the investigation leads us away from a book or lobbyist, that’ll mean it’s probably a diversion.”

Baldwin stretched. “Then we can get on with our initial intention. Let them investigate while we nap.”

“Well, that sounds a hell of a lot better than—”

Evarts phone rang. It was Wilson.

“Yeah,” Evarts answered.

“General O’Brian received the Capitol Police and FBI preliminary results. Bad news for our theory. The bomb was a crude, makeshift device. The congressman picked up the parcel at his campaign manager’s office. It was so big and heavy, his driver carried it to the car. The bomb was a crude blend of precursor chemicals. The type of chemicals acquired easily in other countries. Johnson was a Democrat, and the Capitol Hill Club was Republican. The FBI thinks this was a message to the other side of the aisle that nobody’s safe. They further believe these are the same terrorists. The general concurs.”

“The M.O. is different,” Evarts said.

“Not that different. The Capitol Hill Club detonator and timer were crude as well. Albeit the explosive was military grade. Had to be to cause the damage they wanted with a briefcase bomb. The FBI is assuming two teams. The first bomb coming from the A-Team and the second executed by a B-Team with less access to the good stuff. The profile they’re