The Navarre Brotherhood

By Tammy Wunsch

When bullets start flying at a Union Square cafe, history professor Ella Chevalier can't believe they could be aimed at her...despite what the blue-eyed stranger tells her. Ella is stunned that her academic research is catching the interest of more than the PhD crowd – two medieval Orders, remnants of the Crusades, believe she holds the key to finding a mythical treasure – and only one cares whether she lives or dies! Ella can't believe she's in danger...but that's about to change.

From the dusty halls of Columbia University to the Highlands of Scotland and the Charente Maritime region of France, Ella and her loyal companions are on a mission to find the lost treasure of the Templar Knights, with thieves and assassins on their heels every step of the way!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tammy Wunsch
• Release date: Dec 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9798215020975

Tammy Wunsch

Tammy Wunsch currently resides in the Quiet Corner of Connecticut though she has also called both New York City and Los Angeles home. Formally educated in business, she has worked in a variety of industries and is both entrepreneurial and adventurous by nature. In addition to writing two novels, she is a Content Writer who specializes in the travel, wine, and animal welfare niches. She is passionate about animals and loves to travel, cook, kayak, and read. Visit her online at www.TammyWunsch.com.

Book preview

Prologue

October 13, 1307

News of the arrests swept through France and the rest of Europe. Hundreds of Templar Knights had been arrested and charged with unspeakable crimes.

The Harbor Master received his orders to seize the Templar ships in his port. He stormed down the dock where they had been moored the previous day to find eighteen empty slips. The Harbor Master did not relish informing the King’s Guards that eighteen ships had disappeared from the port without his knowledge in the middle of the night. He thought back to the café the previous night and how inebriated he had become from a single flagon of ale. He sensed foul play, but knew that the King’s Guards would not accept such a feeble excuse.

The Harbor Master boarded his own ship and looked around carefully. He did not have many provisions on-board, but he had enough to make it to Iberia where he could start a new life. He thought about his shrewish wife and four miserable children and cackled evilly as he set sail.

Perhaps if he had been more inclined to worry about others rather than himself, he would have checked the boat more thoroughly and discovered the holes bored into the ship’s side. As the ship sailed out of the La Rochelle Harbor, slowly filling with water, the Harbor Master waved gleefully at the King’s Guards who had swarmed onto the dock and were demanding his return. As he cleared the mouth of the harbor, he realized that the ship was sinking. He cried out and shook his fist at the sky at his incredibly bad luck – and his lack of foresight in never learning to swim. He could just envision his wife’s anguish when they informed her of his death. It almost made it all worthwhile.

One

Ella was enjoying her fruit juice at Starbucks on Union Square and was completely engrossed in the new spy novel by Robert Ludlum when she heard a soft whisper near her right ear. She jumped when the man at the table next to her slumped over and thumped his head on his empty pastry dish.

I can’t believe he’s drunk at two o’clock in the afternoon, she thought haughtily. Then, the young couple at the adjacent table started screaming Oh my God! He’s bleeding!  

Ella started to rise from her table when she heard another soft whisper and then an invisible force shoved the hard cover of her book against her chest, pushed her back into her seat, and left her momentarily breathless. As she looked down at her book, she heard yet another quiet whisper, this time near her left ear. Pandemonium broke out in the café as yet another person dropped to the ground, his face demolished in a bloody, pulpy mess. Ella couldn’t move from her chair as people started pushing and rushing to get either into the café or race from the scene.

As she started to panic, she heard a cultured voice say intently to her Come with me if you want to live. Even in her flustered state, she recognized the words from a movie she had seen years ago which she didn’t remember liking and couldn’t bother to care about at that moment. She took the stranger’s outstretched hand and he pulled her to her feet. They then crouched and used the upturned tables and toppled umbrellas as cover to make their way down the block. The stranger pulled Ella around the corner and hustled her down 14th Street. At Irving Place, he pulled her across the street and didn’t slow down until they were inside a bodega down the street.

Ella was breathing hard as she heard the sirens racing toward Starbucks and all the commotion. The handsome stranger bent down and looked at her with the bluest eyes Ella had ever seen. How are you? he asked with concern in his voice.

I’m fine, I think, thanks to you, she stammered. Ella did a quick touch test of her body and found it intact. What happened back there? I’ve never been so scared in all my life!

I’m not sure, but I think someone was trying to kill you, the stranger stated.

W-what? asked Ella incredulously. Nobody would want to kill me. I’m just a professor.

From my position at Starbucks, I saw two bullets barely miss you and I believe that one found its target. You were fortunately reading a very thick hardcover book. He pointed at her novel.

Ella turned her book over and noticed a hole in the front cover. She leafed through the pages and, as she turned a page at the back, heard a plunk as something fell out and landed on the floor. Ella bent down and picked up the item. As she straightened, she held it up to the light and realized it was a bullet. She felt light-headed and noticed the store receding into darkness, all the while thinking, He really does have the bluest eyes, as she lost consciousness.

Two

Ella slowly opened her eyes. She couldn’t imagine why she was lying on the floor in a bodega. Her last memory was enjoying her fruit juice and her novel at Starbucks. She scrunched her face up as someone waved something that smelled horrible under her nose. She pushed the hand away and struggled to sit up. As she became somewhat more vertical, a flood of memories came rushing back. She looked around frantically for the man with the blue eyes.

Where is...he? Ella asked the person waving smelling salts under her nose. He appeared to be an employee of the bodega.

The clerk, who appeared to be Korean, looked at her strangely and she at first assumed he didn’t understand the question. He then looked around the store at the other customers. Where is who? he asked.

The man I came in here with. He had deep blue eyes and an accent and he saved my life, Ella blurted breathlessly.

Lady, first I saw you, you were lying on the floor and there you were alone, the clerk retorted dismissively. He had the most offensive Brooklyn accent Ella had ever heard and she was slightly abashed to have assumed that he didn’t speak English. He turned away from Ella and rolled his eyes at the small crowd of people gathered around her. He made a movement with his hands which signified he thought she had had too much to drink.

Didn’t anyone see the man who I came in with? Ella asked plaintively.

I think you hit your head pretty hard when you passed out. Maybe you dreamed him, someone from the crowd called out.

I can’t have dreamed him. He said he saw the bullet hit my book. Ella began patting the floor around her and twisting around, searching for her book.

There’s no book, lady, and no bullet. Just you on the ground and you’re disrupting my business, the clerk said dismissively as he got to his feet and brushed himself off. He now made a swirling motion by his head to indicate he thought Ella was crazy.

Couldn’t he make up his mind? Was she crazy or drunk? Ella wondered and then realized it didn’t matter what he thought.

Ella pushed herself to her feet, still swaying unsteadily. I am not crazy and I did come in here with a man. I was at Starbucks... Ella stumbled to the window and looked at the commotion down the street. Two people were shot and he said the bullets were meant for me! she cried.

The clerk turned away and mumbled to a nearby customer, Gee, some people will do anything for attention.

The small crowd started to disperse while Ella was still looking out the window indecisively. She found her purse under a TastyKake display, and bought a bottle of water to thank the clerk for his assistance before she wandered out the door, still a bit dazed.

Three

Ella stood on the street outside the bodega and drank her water. She then took a deep breath and walked down the street toward the turmoil. As she approached the corner of 14 th Street and 4 th Avenue, she was blocked by a policeman from going any further. Cross the street, ma’am, Nothing to see here! he bellowed in her face as she continued to approach the line of police tape.

I was here when it happened. I wasn’t sure if you would need my statement...

Ella was a little afraid of the New York police. They were nothing like the police in the small Colorado town where she had grown up. Of course, New York was nothing like the small Colorado town where she grew up either and a lot of things scared her here.

"You were here when what happened?" he asked her a bit incredulously.

I was here when the people got shot, Ella tried to say with a bit of force behind her words. Instead, they came out a little squeakily.

Oh, and where have you been for the past half hour then? At the dress shop? Or did you stop for a snack? the policeman sneered at Ella while looking at her empty water bottle.

Ella looked down at her disheveled clothing and tried to smooth her hair back into its barrette. Yes, I was drinking a fruit juice and reading my book when I heard a whisper...

A whisper you say? inquired the policeman.

Well, I guess it wasn’t really a whisper at all but a bullet going by my ear that just sounded like a whisper, Ella replied and continued, ignoring the look of skepticism on the policeman’s face. "As I was saying, after I heard the whi... bullet pass by, I noticed the man at the table next to me slump over and hit his head on his pastry plate.

What did you do then, asked the policeman. He had adopted the attitude Ella had seen parents take with their misbehaving children.

Shouldn’t you be writing this down? asked Ella defensively. She was getting tired of people treating her like she was an idiot.

Some people will do anything to get their fifteen minutes of fame. I’m just screening out the loonies, explained the policeman in a tone which implied he thought she was one of them.

I demand to speak to someone in charge, Ella insisted as she started to become angry. She felt the color rising in her face and took some deep breaths so that she wouldn’t start crying.

Hey Sergeant Thatcher, the policeman shook his head and called out to a man who was looking over his notes. "This lady says she was here when everything went down and was drinking a fruit juice at a table on the sidewalk. She was reading a book, she says."

Sergeant Thatcher ambled over and looked at Ella. Thank you, Officer. I’ll take it from here, he dismissed the policeman as he beckoned Ella to a nearby chair. The restaurant looked like it had when she made her hasty retreat. Now Miss, were you really here? As you can imagine, we have a lot of people to interview and I’m on my third double shift in four days.

Ella looked at the Sergeant and nodded affirmatively. I was here. I was reading a book and when the shots rang out I was knocked over and a nice man with the bluest eyes helped me up and we ran down the street to some store and I passed out when the bullet fell out of my book. Ella gulped for air as her words came tumbling out in a rush.

The Sergeant’s head snapped up. A bullet fell out of your book? Where is it?

The bullet or the book? asked Ella.

Either. Both. replied Sergeant Thatcher with his eyes wide open and more than a touch of exasperation.

Ella hung her head sheepishly. I don’t know. When I came to, the book and the bullet were gone and so was the guy with the...

So help me, if you say the guy with the bluest eyes... The Sergeant took a deep breath, shook his head and exhaled loudly. What was the name of the book?

It’s the new one by Robert Ludlum, she smiled brightly. It’s about a spy that’s being chased... Ella began to summarize the plot of the story she was reading.

A spy novel? he asked. Are you sure you were here or maybe you just got caught up in your story and...

Do you think it would be possible to not treat me like a glory-seeking moron? Ella burst out angrily. I am trying to be a good citizen, but apparently that counts for nothing these days! Ella surged to her feet and started gathering her belongings.

The Sergeant took a deep breath. I apologize, Miss... he trailed off as he opened his notebook and looked at her expectantly.

Ella sighed and sat down heavily on the chair. Ella, er, Dr. Gabriella Chevalier, but everyone calls me Ella.

Ah, you’re a doctor? Sergeant Thatcher inquired, sounding a bit more interested.

No. Well I am, but not the kind of doctor you’re thinking about. I’m a PhD, not a medical doctor. I teach Medieval History at Columbia University, Ella clarified. My office is in Fayerweather Hall.

Where do you live?

On the Upper West Side, 103rd Street and Riverside Drive.

Sergeant Thatcher’s eyebrows rose dramatically as Ella rattled off her address. That’s a nice neighborhood for a teacher.

Professor, Ella retorted. My grandparents bought the apartment when they first came to the United States. It wasn’t such a nice neighborhood then. I was fortunate that they left me the apartment when they passed. It is very close to where I work.

What were you doing in Union Square, Ms. Chevalier?

Dr. Chevalier, Ella injected a bit defensively. I met with a colleague at NYU. He might edit my book on the Treasure of the Knights Templar. After the meeting, I stopped at Barnes & Noble, Ella distractedly waved across Union Square toward the large bookstore on 17th Street. It was such a nice day, I decided to read my book outside and bought a juice at Starbucks. I don’t really like coffee, she confided. Ella looked around her sadly. Worst decision I ever made.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor Chevalier. I will be in contact with you to come and sign your statement after its transcribed."

That’s it? Ella asked disbelievingly. You don’t need me to come down to the station? On television, witnesses are usually questioned a little more thoroughly.

That’s the problem with television, Sergeant Thatcher noted dryly. Everyone thinks they know police procedure and believe the police are incompetent if they don’t do exactly what the TV cops do.

I didn’t mean to imply... stuttered Ella.

"Of course not, Doctor Chevalier. Have a pleasant evening." Sergeant Thatcher nodded at Ella and rose from his seat to walk over to a group of policeman who parted as he approached. Ella could see the body bags behind them. She shuddered and shuffled away from the mayhem. As she reached the corner, she decided to treat herself to a taxi after such an exasperating day. The thought of taking the subway was not enticing and she felt the need for some personal space. She briefly wondered what had happened to the man with the blue eyes and cursed her bad luck for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The blue-eyed man had to be wrong. Who could possibly want to kill her? She taught Medieval History and was researching a book, which very few people would read, on the Treasure of the Knights Templar. If her book were fiction, perhaps more people would read it, but an academic text book would only be purchased by students taking her class and skimmed right before exams. With that thought in her head, she sighed dejectedly and hailed a taxi.

Four

Ella decided while riding by Central Park that she didn’t want to go home and be alone. She instructed the taxi driver to take her up to Columbia instead so she could do some more research on her book.

When she arrived at her office in the History department, she noticed only one other office was occupied. She smiled as she walked toward it. There were four ancient history professors on staff and they all shared a suite and an assistant. Callum Sinclair was a medieval scholar like her and her favorite co-worker. He was quiet and a bit absent-minded – the stereotypical professor. He even wore tweed jackets with leather patches at the elbows and sometimes sported a bowtie. His students loved him and he always scored high on student evaluations. Ella was never sure whether it was due to his slightly lilting Scottish brogue or the way he made history come alive for his students, but expected it was a bit of both. Ella had sat in on a few of his lectures and always walked away having learned something new. His enthusiasm for his subject matter was infectious and quite a few students asked him to mentor them through their own dissertations. He almost never accepted as he conducted a lot of field research and traveled as frequently as possible.

When she got to his door, she paused as she looked in to see him deeply involved, staring at something on his computer. His border collie, Max, looked at her and began wagging his tail instantly when he recognized her. Ella knocked lightly on the door and had to suppress a giggle when Callum looked up startled. His glasses were smudged and his cheek had a red mark from where he had been propping his head up with his hand. Ella could see that he must have been running his hands through his hair as it was tousled and sticking up in some places. He quickly clicked a few keys on his keyboard and closed the laptop.

Callum, you really need to take better care of yourself, she sighed as she crossed the room and collapsed into a chair. You look like you haven’t slept in days. You need a good woman to take care of you. Max wandered over to Ella and put his head in her lap, his tail wagging happily. She absently petted him.

What do y-you mean? Callum stammered as he turned quickly and tried to get a reflection from the window behind his desk. He removed his glasses and tried to smooth his hair into place with a sigh. What I need is a haircut before I leave.

Where are you off to now?

I am going to Scotland to visit my family. It’s my grandfather’s 95th birthday and there will be a rather large family party. I don’t know how many more he has left in him. He has lived through so much. You do remember? You agreed to watch Max.

That’s right, Ella nodded and stared absently out the window. After the day I’ve had, I wish I had somewhere fun to go. She looked down at the dog and smiled. Not that I won’t have fun with you, Max. The dog’s tail started pumping even harder. Ella leaned over and opened the cookie jar on the counter next to her. The jar was filled with dog treats and Max eyed her patiently until she leaned over and gave him one.

I sometimes think he likes you better than me, Callum said, shaking his head. Max laid back down near Ella’s feet. I’m not sure I would describe this trip as fun, Callum said ruefully while scrunching up his face. My two brothers and sister will each be there with their spouses and children. I will be forced to endure infinite questions from everyone about when I plan on settling down. I get quite annoyed after the fiftieth time the question has been asked.

Ah, that could get annoying. My family is only my mother and sister. Ella opened her wallet and pulled out a photograph of two toddlers that she showed to Callum. My sister is married and has two kids, but Mom is a bit of a throwback to the 60’s. She and my father never married. They didn’t see the point of it. She closed her wallet and sat back.

Callum suddenly remembered Ella’s previous words and swiveled back quickly to look at her. He looked her up and down and noted her disheveled clothing and hair. What did you mean, ‘After the day I’ve had’?

Ella sighed again. She hoped it wasn’t going to become a habit as she hated dramatic women. Ella told Callum about her day. He frowned a few times and came to sit in the chair next to her. When she got to the part about the bullets nearly missing her, he jumped up in shock and looked nervous when she told him about the bullet in the book.

Callum began to pace, which was a clear sign of his agitation. Ella had only seen him pace once before, when his book deadline was approaching and he hadn’t finished the first draft. Of course, Callum’s pacing caused Max some anxiety and he got up to trail behind Callum.

Do the police have the book? he asked. Are they testing it for gunshot residue or ballistics or anything else? he asked anxiously.

Callum walked over to his electric teapot and started heating water for some tea. Ella had also noticed that like many people from across the pond, Callum thought tea could handle every situation.

I don’t think they quite believed me, she sighed, yet again. The detective acted as if I was one of those attention seekers, especially when nobody else could confirm seeing the man who helped me.

Well, I believe you about the helpful man, Callum said quietly. He finished making tea and handed her a cup. Who wouldn’t want to help you? I can’t imagine why someone would shoot at you though. I think that man was just trying to scare you so he could take advantage of you. Notice how he left when you drew attention to yourself by fainting.

You’re probably right, Callum. You’re such a dear. Ella stood up and announced, Now, back to my book. I should try to get a few more pages written with that deadline coming up.

I also think you should forget about work for the night and we should go out for happy hour so you can put today behind you, Callum suggested.

I really should work on the book, Ella replied uncertainly.

Nonsense! We’re going out. My treat.

Okay then. I really wasn’t feeling very motivated to work anyway. You really are very sweet, Callum. I think that’s my new nickname for you – Sweet Callum.

Callum smiled ruefully at Ella as they walked down the empty hallway toward the stairwell with Max following at their heels.

Let’s see if you still feel that way tomorrow, he grinned mischievously.

Five

The next morning, Ella groaned as her alarm went off yet again at 10 a.m. She had been hitting the snooze button for the past hour. Sweet Callum had gotten her quite drunk the night before. When would she learn that she couldn’t keep up drink for drink with a Scotsman?

She stumbled toward the bathroom and took the hottest shower she could stand. That cleared her head a little but she knew this hangover would be around for quite a while today. She looked through her refrigerator and decided to wait on breakfast until her stomach was slightly more settled.

Ella looked at her cell phone which was blinking to indicate that she had text messages. The first one was from her editor and read: I hope you are progressing on the book. Remember, the deadline is in eight weeks. Ella groaned and deleted the message.

The next two texts were from Callum, inquiring as to how she was doing and whether she needed him to prepare a special Scottish tea for hangovers. She noted that the messages had come in at 8:30 and 9:00 a.m. and silently cursed him. As she was preparing a scathing reply as to just what he could do with his tea, she saw that she had a voice mail too. Ella accessed her voice mail and heard a voice she would never forget. It was the blue-eyed man’s lilting, accented voice and she listened to his message raptly.

I apologize for leaving so abruptly yesterday. I received a phone call from a friend whom I had been with at Starbucks and he needed my assistance immediately. I would like to continue our conversation. If you are available for lunch, please meet me at The Modern at noon. I do so hope that you will be available to meet. Also, I believe I neglected to inform you of my name yesterday. I am Jack St. Germaine. Please come. I will be awaiting the pleasure of your company.

Ella felt the room spinning and sat down hard on one of her dining room chairs. How did he get my phone number?, Why is he calling me, Can his eyes possibly be as blue as I remember? and What shall I wear were just some of the questions running in quick succession through her mind.

She rose a bit unsteadily and went to her closet. Ella hadn’t dated much recently and couldn’t really clear the cobwebs enough to compile an outfit. Was this even a date? she wondered. She settled on a knee-length black dress with a sweetheart neckline. For shoes, she waffled back and forth between beauty and comfort and then exclaimed to the room To hell with comfort! as she decided on the four inch Jimmy Choos.

Ella fussed a bit with her hair, finally winding her long brown hair into a French twist and securing it with a hair clip she had purchased the last time she was in France. It was a delicate gold clip with whimsical gargoyles engraved on the front. She added a pair of plain hoops and a gold chain with a lone pearl that nestled in her cleavage. As she looked in the mirror to apply her makeup, she found she was humming a happy little tune. She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked so forward to something.  She dripped a few drops of Visine in each eye as they were still red due to her hangover – damn you Callum. She grabbed a small clutch for her wallet, lipstick and keys as she hurried out the door.

Ella applied her lipstick using the mirror in the elevator and felt quite pulled together, despite her queasy stomach, when she stepped into the lobby. She heard a low whistle and turned to see Juan, the door man, nodding his head vigorously. Looking good, Dr. Chevalier.

Thank you Juan. Ella blushed as she walked past Juan holding the door for her. Fortunately, there was a taxi discharging its occupants right in front of her building and Ella rushed to grab it. Even though midtown traffic was bound to be gridlocked, she didn’t want to take the subway and she certainly didn’t want to be sweaty – well not from travelling, she chuckled a bit lasciviously to herself.

Six

Ella got out of the taxi in front of the restaurant and walked to the hostess stand. I’m meeting Mr. St. Germaine. The words seemed to falter as she realized her mouth was so dry.

Right this way, the hostess smiled and walked toward a back corner of the restaurant.

Ella followed her slowly as her eyes suddenly made contact with Jack St. Germaine. Her breath seemed to be coming in short gasps. She mentally reprimanded herself that there were lots of handsome men in Manhattan and she should not fall to pieces just because she was about to dine with one of them.

Jack stood as she approached and held her chair as she sat down. As he took his chair, he leaned in and lightly grasped Ella’s hand as he murmured, I am so pleased you could join me, Ms. Chevalier. I have been looking forward to lunch all morning.

Ella felt the blush start at her hairline and creep slowly down her body to her toes. She stammered, I have been looking forward to lunch too, Mr. St. Germaine. Please call me Ella.

Ella, the way he said it, her name seemed to roll around his mouth like a fine wine. Such a beautiful name for an absolutely enchanting lady. Please, call me Jack. Mr. St. Germaine is my father. His accent seemed to be an amalgamation of Scottish, French and something else that was not quite identifiable.

Jack bestowed a smile that was so radiant, Ella was certain the butter on the table would melt. She reached for her water glass to occupy her free hand and to stall for a few moments to compose herself.

I am glad you called but curious, Jack, as to how you obtained my phone number. I don’t recall exchanging phone numbers with you yesterday before I, er.... Ella trailed off, embarrassed to have to talk about her fainting spell. She also was not sure whether their conversation had been a dream when he had told her he thought somebody had tried to kill her.

Before you fainted? Jack inquired with compassion. It was quite understandable. After all, I had just informed you that I thought someone was trying to kill you. I fervently wish I had been able to stay and explain myself a bit more, but my friend required my assistance. I later noticed you at Starbucks speaking to the police, but I had to bring my friend to a hospital.

I hope your friend is okay, Ella asked with concern as he continued caressing her right hand and she continued to gaze into his incredibly blue eyes. She had to remind herself to breathe.

Yes. It was a minor cut. He waved his hand dismissively. He needed five stitches from being cut by a broken glass. Thank you for inquiring. I knew you would be safe with the police. He smiled coyly at her. I must confess as to using trickery to obtain your phone number. He smiled seductively. I have a friend who is a Lieutenant in the NYPD and I asked him if he could give me your name and phone number. I hope that was all right? he looked at her expectantly.

Ella broke from her reverie and gently removed her hand from his grasp so she could marshal her thoughts. Yes. I am glad that you phoned. I wanted to talk to you about our conversation. I still don’t understand why you think someone was trying to kill me.

The bullets whizzing by your head and the bullet in your book did not convince you? Jack asked incredulously.

Ella’s smile faltered It was a sidewalk crowded with tables and people. Anyone could have been the target. That reminds me, when you left, did you take the book and the bullet?

Yes, I picked them up. I did not want them to get stolen by any of the customers in the store. Jack reached into his bag and withdrew the book and a small plastic bag with a bullet.

That’s great! Ella exclaimed with relief. Let’s call the police and hand them over. They thought I was hallucinating.

I’m afraid the police would not understand the complexity of the situation, Ella.

What do you mean? Someone shot into a crowd and we have a book with a bullet hole and the bullet which will match the bullets in the people who were killed, Ella said with more confusion.

"Let’s order lunch and I can explain everything to you as we eat. I suggest the Pistachio Stuffed Chicken. When Ella frowned in bewilderment, Jack waved the waitress over and placed their order for food. He requested a bottle of Domaine Ramonet 2010 while Ella sat in a state of bewilderment, nodding as if she knew the wine well.

Seven

The appetizers came and Ella found herself eating mechanically while Jack evaded the elephant in the room and told her all about himself instead. He was raised in a small town in France by his Scottish parents and had attended the Sorbonne. He then got a job in international finance and moved to Zurich and eventually to New York. He had never been married and had no children. She was completely entranced by his story, though eager to return to his account of the shooting incident.

As they dined on the main course, Ella found herself telling her life story. She told him that he would not find her story nearly as interesting as his. She grew up in a small town in Colorado and attended the University of Colorado at Boulder. For her senior thesis, she wrote a small article on family life in medieval France that was published in an obscure academic journal but attracted the attention of some major universities. She was recruited into the Ph.D. program at Columbia University and, upon graduation, Columbia invited her to stay on and teach.

Finally, after the waitress had cleared their dishes away, Ella could wait no longer. You have to explain yourself. Why can’t we go to the police with our evidence?

You have been extraordinarily patient, Ella, Jack looked around suspiciously to ensure nobody was listening. He leaned toward Ella and this time held both her hands. Ella felt her heart skip a beat at the warmth from his hands. What I am about to tell you is of great importance and highly classified. You need to pledge on your honor that you will not reveal any of the details that I am about to disclose to you.

I promise, Ella declared.

Do not make this promise lightly. The details I am about to impart could change the balance of power in the world as we know it.

Ella giggled nervously. How can anything of such great importance be related to me? asked Ella dismissively as she pulled her hands away.

Jack sighed and took a deep breath. I am the Grand Master of the Order of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon. You are better acquainted with the common form...

"The