by Alex Lukeman
She swallowed. "Yes, Malcolm. Right away." She glanced down at Healy's corpse and walked quickly from the room.
Three guards ran into the room, guns drawn. They looked at the body, then at Foxworth. One of the men was broad shouldered and dark faced. Foxworth knew who he was. He knew all the life details of everyone who worked for him.
"Sir, we heard shots. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Dragonov, you are now chief of security." He gestured at Healy's body. "Take that out of here and get rid of it."
"Yes, sir." Dragonov and the other two picked up the dead weight and hurried from the room.
"Morel. I have a headache. Take care of it."
Soon Foxworth was relaxed and out of pain. He dismissed Morel. He opened the library windows and stepped onto the balcony and looked out toward the river. The day was beautiful, the kind of day travel agents sold and vacationers dreamed of. Birds sang in the trees under brilliant blue sky that had inspired the greatest painters of the Renaissance.
Foxworth took a deep breath of the warm Italian air. After breakfast he would indulge himself with Mandy. She would be insatiable after the morning's events. He was certain violence turned women on.
The drugs coursed through his body. Yes, life was good.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Yuri Malenkov and Anatoly Ogorov contemplated the object recovered from the Yucatan ruins. A frigid blast of wind rattled the windows of Malenkov's laboratory at Irtysh, a warning of approaching winter.
Yuri's voice betrayed his excitement. "This could not have been produced in a pre-technological civilization."
"It's a crystal," Ogorov said. "What is so different about it?"
The crystal was about a foot and a half tall, polished and transparent. It had a flat base and a perfect, tapered point. Yuri concealed his frustration at Ogorov's question.
"I subjected it to electron microscopy and X-ray crystallography. It was shaped by some process I don't understand. There are no tooling marks of any kind. That alone makes it different."
He took the crystal in both hands and placed it on a pedestal in the middle of the room.
"The crystal is impossibly flawless," he said. "It acts to focus and direct energy. I've arranged a demonstration for you. If you look up you'll see a sheet of fire resistant material on the ceiling."
Ogorov looked up.
"Watch this, but stay away from the crystal."
Ogorov stepped back. Yuri took a laser pointer from his shirt pocket, the kind lecturers used everywhere. He aimed and turned it on. The crystal turned deep, blood red. An intense beam of light shot straight upward and struck the asbestos sheet above. It began to glow with heat. Ogorov heard a low humming, a faint resonance through the soles of his shoes.
Yuri switched off the laser. The humming stopped. The asbestos smoldered.
"That was an ordinary pointer, a harmless laser. Imagine what it will do with Tesla's ray. This is what he lacked. An amplifier, a way to increase the power of his device. This solves that problem. With this, we can reach the moon." He looked up, as if he could see the universe through the roof of the building. "We will command space."
"Why did you not think of crystal before?" Ogorov asked.
"I did. But this is not ordinary crystal. I am not even sure it is from this planet."
Ogorov raised his eyebrows. "'You can't be serious."
"There is no crystal on earth anything like it. The arrangement of the atoms is unique."
"Can you make more of these?"
"No. Not with our current technology. There will only be one weapon. We must protect it."
"That is underway. What remains to be done for deployment?"
"The pyramid is complete. I'm moving everything over there. Construction is almost finished on the Tesla machine. I'll need to test the power outputs and make adjustments. I'm adapting our existing missile guidance technology for the aiming device. Once everything is functioning properly and the crystal is mounted, we are ready."
"How long?"
"I think three months. Perhaps two."
"Have it completed in two," Ogorov said. "I have a perfect test in mind."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Selena was in a rotten mood on her first day of rehab. Feeling had come back to her legs, an agony of pins and needles. She couldn't stand upright without help. She couldn't feel the floor. Her back hurt like hell. She felt like an old woman, a very old woman. It didn't help that she had to be pushed around in a wheelchair.
At least she wouldn't be paralyzed. She would beat it. The doctors were cautiously optimistic. Would she get full use back? Probably, they said. Would her legs be as strong as they had been? Very likely, they said, but we don't know. We can't guarantee it. We'll know better after a few months. It all depends.
Their opinions were about as useful as a first class stateroom on the Titanic.
An orderly brought her into the rehab center and left. A woman in nurse's uniform came over to her. She had silky smooth skin the color of honey. She was attractive and young, cheerful and perky and strong. Selena hated her on the spot.
"Hi, I'm Arlene. I'm going to be your rehab person today."
"Can you just tell me what the specials are?"
Arlene gave her a cool look.
"Never mind," Selena said. "Bad joke."
"Let me ask you something. You want to walk again?"
"What do you mean? Of course I do."
"Then lose the attitude. There's no miracle here. This is going to hurt. You have to get your mind around it. Okay?"
"Yes. Sorry."
"Good. Let's get started."
For an hour Arlene pushed Selena through the exercises. Selena clenched her teeth and took it. At the end, she was exhausted, but sore was better than numb. Aches were better than nothing. Then Arlene wheeled her back to her room.
When she got there, Nick was waiting. He'd brought flowers. Birds of paradise, something green, white baby's breath.
He looked terrible, like he hadn't slept for a week.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself." She hated having him see her like this.
Arlene helped her into bed. "See you tomorrow."
"I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time," Selena said.
"That's okay. I'm used to it. Everyone hates rehab. You did great." She arranged the flowers on the bedside table. "Just take it one day at a time."
As she left she smiled at Nick.
He said, "How are you?"
"Good. I'm good." She paused. "No I'm not. But I will be. Good, I mean."
She'd had time to think, lying in her bed. Time to consider how she'd gotten here. Time to replay the fight in the jungle over and over, the shock of the bullet hitting her, tearing through her body because she wasn't wearing a vest. She didn't want to blame him but she did. It didn't matter what she told herself.
"Selena, I'm sorry."
Suddenly she was angry. "Goddamn it, don't say you're sorry. Sorry doesn't help. You forgot the vests. I stood up. No one's to blame. But don't say you're sorry."
He opened his mouth, closed it again.
She looked at the flowers and took a deep breath. "It's all part of what we do. If you say you're sorry, you make it your fault. Don't say you're sorry. I knew what I was getting into. It's my life. You're not responsible for what happens in it."
"I was in charge."
"You weren't in charge of the men who shot at us. You're not in charge of me, in the field or anywhere else. So get off it. You're feeling sorry for yourself."
He flushed. "That's not fair."
"So? Who said life was fair?"
"Maybe I should go."
"Maybe you should."
Nick looked at her. He laid the flowers on her bedside table. Then he turned and left.
"Thanks for the flowers," she said to the empty room.
Then she cried.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The nights were turning crisp and cool. The election was a few weeks awa
y. Nick had been to California and moved his mother to a private nursing home after her stroke. She hadn't recognized him. His sister was nagging him about putting the house on the market.
His father was dead, which was fine by Nick. His sister was an annoying thorn in his side. His mother didn't know who he was. More and more, he thought of the Project team as his real family, the only people he could rely on. The only ones he cared about.
He and Selena weren't talking much. He was drinking more than usual. Running helped him keep it together.
Nick stepped out for his usual evening run. A black armored Cadillac limo waited at the curb, idling. The driver wore a black suit, dark sunglasses, a white earpiece and a pistol under his jacket. He opened the rear door and waited for Nick to get in.
Shit, Nick thought, here we go again. What now?
The man riding in the back of that car called himself Adam. Nick didn't know who he was or what he looked like or if Adam was his real name. He hadn't been able to find out where he came from or where he went. All he knew was that Adam was a serious player. Adam had told him about the existence of AEON and warned him about the Demeter threat. Whatever the man was about to tell him, Nick was sure it would complicate his life. Nick got in. The driver closed the door. The lock clicked.
The inside of the car was a luxury cocoon of top grain leather and soft halo lighting. The windows were completely blacked out. A partition of opaque, black glass divided the rear compartment down the middle. A speaker was set in the glass. A slot in the partition allowed for something to be passed through. The driver was invisible behind another barrier of black glass.
The Cadillac pulled smoothly away into the unseen traffic. It was very quiet and comfortable inside the car.
"Good evening, Nick."
Even though he knew it was coming, the words startled him. The voice was masked by electronics. There was no way to identify the speaker.
"Adam."
"You must go to Russia."
Adam wasn't much for idle conversation.
"I think you're about to tell me why."
The electronic voice chuckled. It sounded like it was underwater. "A little over three years ago, a clerk cataloging documents in the Nikola Tesla Museum in Belgrade discovered secret plans hidden by Tesla. He sold them on the black market and was killed right after. You met his killer."
"I remember. The one in Prague who came after us. He said his first job for whoever had hired him was a museum clerk."
"It was Foxworth who hired him." The electronic voice continued. "The plans are for a particle beam weapon. Tesla talked about it and even demonstrated a small device that operated in a vacuum. The tabloids of the time called it a death ray. Tesla said he'd overcome problems that prevented the weapon from working in the atmosphere. He also said he hadn't written down the plans. He was lying. Now AEON has them."
"Adam, what the hell is a particle beam weapon?"
"It fires a focused proton beam of high intensity. The beam destabilizes the atomic structure of the target. Picture a building or a tank or a plane suddenly deprived of the atomic glue that holds it together. It would literally disintegrate."
"That sounds like science fiction."
Nick could almost sense Adam nodding in agreement behind the partition.
"Yes. However, it is possible. The theoretical physics are well understood. The United States, Russia, and China have been trying to build one for years. Experimental prototypes exist, but no one has succeeded in constructing a practical application. Not yet. The beam requires enormous power to be effective."
"I take it Tesla wasn't crazy."
"AEON is building it in Russia."
Nick considered that. "Why? They just tried to bring Russia down a few months ago."
"AEON is opportunistic, always operating on many levels. A project like this needs equipment, serious funding, research, secrecy. Only a government can provide that. This weapon will provide a unique strategic advantage. Like the atomic bomb."
"They intend to give this to the Russians?"
"No. The Kremlin is unaware of AEON's real motive."
"What is their motive?"
"Dominance and control. Tesla's weapon will be turned against us and the Russians and anyone else who stands in their way. They have been preparing for years, since they got their hands on Tesla's secret. They've put up a satellite relay system. Once the beam is operational, it can be directed at any target on earth. They found what they needed in Mexico to maximize the power levels. The weapon is in the final stages of construction."
Mexico, again. The ripples of his failure kept spreading.
Adam continued. "My best intelligence says it will be completed soon."
"We're not welcome in Russia."
"General Vysotsky will smooth the way."
"Vysotsky? But he's SVR. He'd as soon lock us up or shoot us if we set foot on Russian territory."
"Vysotsky is a nationalist. Director Harker briefed him. He knows that Ogorov is not acting in the interest of the Federation. He has worked with you before. He respects Harker. He will help you."
"You sound sure."
"I am sure. Ogorov has gained control of the FSB through General Kaminsky. He wants to reestablish the old KGB with Kaminsky as Director. SVR would be reduced in importance. If Vysotsky reveals Ogorov and Kaminsky as traitors, it could gain him the Director's slot at SVR."
"You want to throw us into the middle of an internal power struggle between Russia's security agencies? Christ, Adam."
"Vysotsky only controls Department S. SVR is riddled with informers and political enemies. He can't use his own people except for a few like Major Korov. He needs you and your team."
"Even if we succeed in finding this weapon and stopping AEON, what's to prevent Vysotsky from taking control of it himself?"
"Well, Nick. I rely on you to solve that problem. You must destroy the installation."
"What about Foxworth?"
Distorted laughter came from the other side of the partition.
"You ruined his vacation, Nick. He was quite upset about it. Foxworth will not be a problem much longer. It's Ogorov we have to watch."
"Why won't he be a problem?"
"Foxworth has an inoperable brain tumor, but he doesn't know it. He refused to have the tests that could have saved his life and now it's too late. His judgement is becoming erratic and he's making mistakes. He'll be dead in a year. Sooner, if the rest of AEON discovers the truth."
Nick wondered how Adam knew these things. It didn't matter, if he was right. He'd been right before.
Adam continued. "His instability makes him extremely dangerous. Foxworth is unable to see consequences that don't fit with rewarding his ego. If he uses this weapon against us it will mean war with Russia. Some of the others in AEON's leadership group are getting nervous. They may eliminate him, but not before he does something stupid."
The Cadillac came to a quiet stop. A silver tray bearing a slim, manila envelope came through the slot in the partition.
"Everything is in the envelope," Adam said.
Nick picked up the envelope. The tray slid back into the partition.
The lock on the rear door clicked open.
"Goodbye, Nick."
Nick got out and closed the door. He was back in front of his apartment building. He watched the car pull away and merge smoothly into the Washington traffic.
He wondered who Adam was. He looked at the envelope in his hand and opened it and began to read.
He went inside to call Harker.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The first two weeks of rehab had been difficult. The next two were hell. Arlene knew Selena needed to push herself. She let her do it without passing the limit of what her body could endure while it healed. The two women had become friends.
Her spine was healing. The bruising was less serious than feared, but her feet still didn't feel right. Her legs were weak. It would be months before the damage was fully repaired. If it co
uld be. It was too soon to tell.
Once, Arlene had asked how she'd been shot. Selena had made up a story about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She knew Arlene didn't believe her, but the nurse didn't bring it up again. Nick, though, was a different subject.
"He's good looking, in a kind of scary way," Arlene said. Selena was walking on a narrow moving strip, holding on to two long parallel bars.
"I suppose so," Selena said. She didn't want to talk about Nick.
The walkway slowed and stopped. Sweat beaded her forehead. Her legs trembled. She stumbled as she stepped off the walkway. Arlene reached out and steadied her.
"Goddamn it." There were tears of frustration in her eyes.
"You're doing good. You're way ahead of where you should be. The doctors are all talking about it. Don't let it get to you."
She walked Selena over to the hot tub and helped her in. The warm, bubbling water was soothing. The jets felt good on her sore back.
Arlene leaned over and began massaging Selena's shoulders. Her touch was strong, nurturing. Suddenly Selena began crying. Arlene continued kneading and working the knots of muscle under the skin.
"It's okay. Let it out." Arlene's voice was soft. Selena put her hands over her face and sobbed, deep, racking cries that shook her body. After a while, she managed to stop.
"It's him, isn't it?" Arlene said.
Selena nodded. She still had her face covered with her hands. Arlene stopped rubbing her shoulders and reached for a hand towel.
"Here. Use this." Selena took the towel and blew her nose twice. She folded the towel over and wiped her face. Arlene took the towel and set it aside.
"You want to talk about it?"
"I can't. I mean, I can't tell you what happened."
"I can guess. It's got something to do with how you got shot."
Selena nodded again. "But it's not that. What we do..." She stopped. "I don't know if I can keep doing it. But Nick will never change. He'll do it until it kills him."
Arlene helped her out of the tub and handed her a clean towel.
