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historians and readers of nonfiction books. Whoops.” She held up her fingers to signal quiet as she punched off the mute button. After a moment, she said, “Yes, I can manage the first hour fee … yes, and the retainer if Mr. Methow accepts the case.”

Baldwin listened then said, “Excellent. Thank you very much.”

She ended the call then checked to verify it was terminated. Then grinned.

“He’ll stay late. We see him at five o’clock.”

“How do we treat him?” Wilson asked.

“As an ally.” Evarts said.

Chapter 49

Methow rose from his desk, started to walk around it, and then froze.

“Aw, hell, not you!”

Methow’s assistant had escorted them into his spacious and expensively furnished office. She now appeared highly nervous, having apparently made a mistake in facilitating the meeting. In the outer office, Baldwin had introduced her companions as her husband and literary agent. Since they arrived right at five o’clock, she led them directly in to see Methow, who was probably anxious to get home for his first scotch of the evening.

Methow sent his assistant out of the room with a flip of the hand and a harsh expression.

After the door closed, Baldwin said, “Sorry for the subterfuge We need your help. Immediately.”

“How did you … aw, never mind. Why’re you here.”

Evarts explained. “The Capitol Hill Club bomb and the bomb that killed Congressman Johnson were done by your Ikhwan friends. We believe they have something much bigger in mind for Friday. We need your help to stop it.”

Methow appeared perplexed. “Is this visit sanctioned by General O’Brian.”

“Of course,” Evarts answered. “Well, in a way. He told us to get your help by any means necessary.” He smiled. “We’re here today to seek your willing cooperation.”

“Why should I cooperate with you?”

“That’s an odd question,” Evarts said. “Why wouldn’t you? The Ikhwan are a common enemy. You’re at war with them and you tried to stop the Paris attack. These attacks, and the one planned for Friday, are in your own country.”

“The Templars don’t recognize a single country as their homeland. We’re citizens of the world.”

“How sad,” Baldwin said. “A man without a country is adrift.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Methow said. “I’m firmly moored with nearly a thousand years of history behind me.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about us. If there are many like you, we’re doomed.”

“How so?”

“At the Constitutional Convention, Gouverneur Morris said he didn’t trust so-called citizens of the world because if they could shake off attachments to their own country, they could never love another.” She gave him a hard look. “I agree.”

“You’re both wrong. I love the Templars. One day, no doubt, I will give my life for them. We’re the protectors of free, God-fearing people. Always have been, always will be.”

“Then join with us to protect our leaders,” Evarts said.

“I’ve seldom heard a weaker argument. Our leaders have willfully ignored the threat … which is what put us in this danger.”

“Fine,” Evarts said. “Forget who you’re protecting. You wanted to use me as bait to draw out the Ikhwan. Well, they’re here. I can lead you right to them. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Methow said bluntly. “Last time I saw you, you were pretty pissed off about that.”

“My personal feelings are less important than stopping this massacre,” Evarts said.

Methow returned to his desk. His body language confirmed that he had acquiesced. After taking his seat, he asked, “What do you want from me?”

“Information,” Evarts said. “First, can you confirm an imminent attack?”

“Yes … and you have the day correct. Something big is going to happen on Friday. In Washington, of course.”

Evarts nodded, then asked. “Do you have any information about the murder of Congressman Johnson and his driver?”

“No … except we suspect it was a diversion.”

“To what purpose?” Baldwin asked.

“Duh, to divert attention from something else.” Methow sounded sarcastic. In a more even voice, he added, “Not sure what.”

“It wasn’t a diversion for Friday’s attack,” Wilson said. “That’s two days away. Any ideas why they would need a diversion now?”

Methow looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“Excuse me,” Evarts said. “May I introduce Sergeant First Class Diane Wilson. She’s—”

“Holy crap, you’re General O’Brian’s daughter-in-law.” He turned to Evarts. “Is she here to spy?”

“Seriously?” Evarts felt exasperated. This verbal fencing was deflecting the conversation away from where he wanted it to go. “We got your name from O’Brian. Army intelligence knows all about you.”  He hooked his thumb in Wilson’s direction. “She’s part of our team, and she stays.”

“Bullshit. She’s not only the daughter of someone committed to hunting us down, but she’s been detailed to Army Intelligence. This meeting is over.”

“Drop it Methow. You knew I was friends with the general, but that didn’t stop you from using me. This meeting’s not over. If you keep whining, our good manners are at an end. Understand?” Evarts waited a beat before adding, “And quit pretending that the Templars aren’t all over this. We know a lot … but sharing starts on your side.”

“Why mine. How do I know you even know anything?”

“For starters, we know who you are.” Methow’s face remained impassive, so Evarts added, “And we know what’s going to happen on Friday.”

That got the reaction Evarts was looking for. Methow was intrigued.

“Tell me what you learned,” Methow said.

“I said the sharing starts on your side.”

Methow thought for a long moment, then Evarts could see from his expression that he had decided to talk.

“The biggest attack in Ikhwan history will come Friday and it will be aimed at elected officials in the U.S. government. They hope to cause enough chaos that the government ceases to function. It’ll likely be bombs. We presume there will be lots of them by the number of firing circuits shipped to a bomb making operation in Al Jubail. Their bombmakers worked around the clock. Three shifts. Our source inside the Ikhwan believes that they’re going after VIPs, not iconic structures like the World Trade Center. Specific people. Important people. This is shock and awe, but we’re

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