The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) by James Best (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📗

to lose his balance and tumbled down the stairs. By the time he recovered and looked up, chaos had ensued. The five boys were racing up the stairs, away from the men who were now giving chase. The pursuers had guns in their hands. Everyone screamed and tried to shove their way to the other side of the auditorium. Evarts regained his feet and pursued the pursuers.

There were now four pursuers. There must have been another pair of men sitting on the opposite side of the aisle. One of them hit him from behind. Nine people, ten counting himself, all running pell-mell for the exit. Shit. There were only two agents stationed at the door above. Suddenly the door burst open with both FBI men extending guns in their right hands and IDs in their left. They shouted orders nobody obeyed.

“Don’t shoot,” Evarts yelled.

If they were going to break the Ikhwan, they needed these supposed students alive.

They didn’t shoot and ended up being bulldozed by the rushing students who knocked them aside as they scurried into the hall.

Evarts caught up with the laggard pursuer and lurched up the stairs with his arm extended to sweep his feet. The pursuer hit the stairs face first. Evarts ran over him stepping on his head to bash it against the stair one more time. He didn’t stop to see if that incapacitated him. He had three more still in front. He saw the lead pursuer tackled by one of the FBI agents, but the other two just ran right by their partner laying on the ground.

Evarts climbed to the top mere seconds after the pursuers had rounded the corner. Shots fired! He came around the door jamb to see a raging gun battle. He jerked back behind cover in the auditorium. Then he crouched and leading with his gun, swung into the hall again. The remaining two pursuers were shooting, but as they did, their bodies twisted and contorted unnaturally. Two against five were not good odds. Evarts had to rise to get a clear shot over the pursuers and he fired a single round into a staggering man firing a semiautomatic pistol. He fell.

Evarts leaped into a broad hall and ran around the two pursuers who were laying inert. Without examining them, he knew they were seriously injured. Ahead he spotted two of the students down. As he came up on them, he guessed they were already dead or close to it. He wanted the other three, so he kept running.

As he came out of the building, he stooped low and took a quick peek around the corner to be rewarded with a couple of shots aimed in his direction. Deep breath, then he leaped out in pursuit. The three students were a half block away and running fast. They were younger and scared shitless. He would lose them in a footrace. He stopped, bent down on a knee, and fired into the buttocks of two of the students. They stumbled, then fell. He couldn’t get a shot off at the third who escaped around a corner of the building.

Maybe not. He heard three rapid shots that sounded like a trained shooter. He ran to the men he shot, kicked their guns away, and threw himself against the wall of the building at the corner. He yelled FBI. When he heard someone respond “clear,” he stuck his head around and drew it back immediately. He spotted Crenshaw in a shooter’s stance and the fleeing student on the ground. Evarts knew he would be dead, so he returned his attention to the two he had shot in the buttocks. One was crawling toward his gun. He wasn’t in any condition to go fast and Evarts was out of breath, so he casually walked over and kicked the gun further out of reach.

“Matt, I have two down over here. Both unarmed!” Evarts yelled.

Crenshaw came around the corner cautiously. When he saw Evarts, he sighed and came over to where he was standing.

After surveying the scene, Crenshaw said, “You need practice. That’s some half-assed shooting.”

Chapter 65

Crenshaw called over an agent and ordered him to use campus police to secure the scene. Evarts warned them to keep an eye out for additional bad guys.

Evarts knelt next to one of the students and ripped off the butt-shot man’s shirt to use as a compress. Crenshaw saw what he was doing and followed suit with the other wounded man who was screaming and writhing on the sidewalk. As Evarts held the compress in place, he used the other hand to call his wife. She was relieved to hear he was unharmed. Crenshaw had provided an agent guard and sequestered her in a faculty lounge. Evarts nodded a thank you to Crenshaw as he relayed the scene to Baldwin and asked that she stay put until he called again.

Soon, campus firemen came on the scene and took over first-aid duties.

Evarts stood and looked at Crenshaw. “Let’s see if we still have custody of the perps inside.”

Crenshaw nodded and turned toward the building. “Any idea who those guys were who messed up our operation?”

Evarts shrugged. “Could be a vigilante group that hunts Islamic terrorists.”

“Shit, I was afraid of that. Templars.”

“You know about them?”

“I’m on a task team to weed them out of the FBI,” Crenshaw said. “Tough. They burrow deep.” He continued a few steps before asking, “Are you after them as well?”

“I was originally brought in by General O’Brien to flush out the buggers at the Pentagon. Then some dickheads set off a bomb at the Capitol Hill Club and we shifted gears.” Crenshaw made an affirmative grunt, and he continued. “Damn, I think our ruse was working. Those boys were going to step into our trap.” Evarts shook his head. “This is why the general hates Templars. He claims they frequently interfere with his operations.”

“Messed us up today, that’s for sure,” Crenshaw said. “But … if we’re lucky, we got a pair from both outfits.”