Tesla Secret, The (12 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Selena's sneeze echoed across the plaza. Birds flew shrieking into the air. The figures on the steps froze. One of the men near the tents shouted something and swept his rifle up and began firing blindly in their direction. A storm of bullets ripped through the leaves over their heads with a sound like the world tearing apart.

To Selena, everything happened at once. Ronnie, Lamont and Nick opened fire. The men near the tent shot into the jungle. The others scrambled down the last steps. Two of them unslung their rifles and fired. Selena brought her MP-5 up, felt herself pull the trigger, watched one of the figures by the tent fly backwards from the impact of her rounds. The men on the steps reached the ground and scattered to both sides. The man carrying the bundle ran around the corner of the ruin. Chips flew from the stones behind him. He disappeared into the trees.

She felt the recoil of her gun. Some piece of her noted the empty shells flying into the air. The bolt of her MP-5 clacked on an empty chamber. She reached for a magazine.

Something hit her hard, low on the right side. The blow spun her around and knocked her onto the moist jungle floor, face down in the dirt and leaves. For a second she felt nothing, then deep, frightening pain that cut through her. She gasped, unable to call out. There was liquid warmth under her clothes.

She was vaguely aware the noise of the guns had stopped. Nick knelt over her. He was saying something. His voice faded in and out.

"Selena," he was saying. "Selena, stay with me."

She tried to speak. Then the world went black.

Nick fought down his panic. He held his hand against the wound and looked at Ronnie. Blood welled between his fingers.

"She's hit bad. Get a kit. Lamont, call Harker. Get a chopper."

"They can't make it in here. We'll have to go back to the truck."

"No time. Tell them to home in on our beacon and drop a litter and a medic through the canopy. We don't get her to a hospital fast, she'll die."

I forgot the fucking vests. This is my fault. My fault. One fucking round.

Selena was unconscious. Nick reached around her back and felt for an exit wound. The high-velocity round had gone through and come out the other side. He pressed his hands against the wounds. The flow of blood through his fingers was a steady trickle.

"God damn it, Ronnie, hurry up."

Ronnie cut her shirt away. The 5.4mm round had made a small, red hole in her abdomen, then ripped out through her back. Blood flowed from the wounds.

Ronnie applied pressure bandages. Neither man spoke. She wouldn't live if the bullet had clipped an artery. She might live if they got her to a hospital in time. They'd both seen wounds like this before. They both knew she might not make it.

"The bleeding's slowed," Ronnie said. "Nothing to do but wait for the bird."

"Chopper's on the way," Lamont said. "Twenty minutes."

"We didn't get them all," Ronnie said. "The guy carrying something got away."

Nick cradled Selena's head in his bloody hands. He made an effort to focus.

"He's here somewhere. Watch out in case he thinks he's a hero. Search the bodies. See if there's anything that will help us ID them. Grab one of those AN-94s. Once Selena's safe, we'll figure out what they were doing here. "

He looked up at the indifferent green canopy above.

"I hate jungles," he said.

Selena's face was an unnatural white, her eyes slightly open. Her breasts rose and fell in labored gasps.

Christ, I'm losing her.

"Don't give up," he whispered. "You can do it, help's coming. You'll be all right. Don't give up."

You forgot the vests.
He waited for the sound of the helicopter, his mind black with guilt.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The atmosphere in Harker's office was depressing.

"After we got her out." Nick stopped, began again. "After the chopper left, we climbed the steps. There was a temple at the top and a second room inside, sealed up a long time ago. Maybe when the Spaniards were coming. The bad guys broke it open. It took them a while. The walls were three feet thick, solid stone."

Harker began tapping, impatient.

"We found an altar in there, made of jade and inlaid with turquoise and gold. A round shaft goes right through the middle and down into the pyramid. I dropped a rock into it and never heard it hit bottom. There was a hole in the roof over the platform, same size, circular. Perfectly lined up with the shaft."

"Go on."

"Everything was black with mold and stained from the rains, but you could see where there'd been something on the altar, right over that shaft. One of the bad guys got away. He took whatever it was with him. There was a lot of gold, but they didn't bother with it."

"I wonder what was more important than gold?"

Ronnie said, "We got back to the truck and found it shot up. You're going to hear about it. The consul wasn't happy."

Harker's pen beat a nervous tattoo on her desk. Time to deal with the elephant in the room.

"About Selena," she said. "She's stable, but the round clipped a vertebra. A bone fragment is pressing against the spinal cord. It has to be removed. She's been airlifted to Bethesda."

"She's here?" Nick said.

"Yes. They're going to operate today." She paused. "It's risky. The doctors say she could end up paralyzed from the waist down. They won't know until after the surgery."

Nick felt something clench in his gut. "It's my fault."

Ronnie shook his head. "Come on, Nick. She sneezed. They heard it." He shrugged. "Like they say, shit happens."

"That doesn't help. I fucked up. I forgot to pack the vests. She'd been wearing one, she'd be all right."

Harker's pen stopped moving. "Nick. I need to know you've got your head on straight."

He took a deep breath. "Don't worry. I can handle it. I want to get the bastard behind this. Foxworth. And his Russian buddy, Ogorov. Who else could have provided those weapons?"

"That's what I want to talk about today. You might get your chance. I met with General Vysotsky while you were in Mexico. We're considering a joint operation."

"In Russia?"

"Not yet. He has to be careful about moving against Ogorov."

"If we don't have to go to Russia, why do we need Vysotsky?"

"He needs evidence Ogorov is a traitor. Vysotsky still isn't convinced Ogorov is part of AEON."

"What does he have in mind?"

"Foxworth is in Italy. He always spends a month there this time of year. Vysotsky wants us to raid Foxworth's villa and he wants Major Korov to go with you. He's looking for proof. If Korov is with you, he'll trust whatever you find."

Nick smiled for the first time since Selena had been shot. "Korov? That would work."

Korov was part of Zaslon, under Vysotsky's command. Nick respected and liked him, even if he was technically an enemy. In Texas, he'd helped carry Ronnie out under heavy fire.

"This isn't just another raid," Elizabeth said. "I should go to the President with it. Foxworth is too important, too powerful. It could backfire."

"If you go to Rice he'll say no." Nick tugged on his ear. He thought of Selena. "He doesn't need to know about this. We can make Foxworth talk."

The coldness in his voice made them all look at him.

"What are you staring at? You know I'm right."

They waited for Harker to think it over. After a moment she said, "All right, we'll do it. I'll set it up. Everyone go home and get some rest."

"What are the rules of engagement?" Nick asked. "With Foxworth?"

"We can't kill him. I'm warning you, Nick. This isn't about vengeance."

"What if he resists? With deadly force?"

"That's different."

Nick smiled for the second time that day.

CHAPTER FORTY

Major Arkady Korov was dressed in civilian clothes, but he would have been recognized as a professional soldier anywhere in the world. Korov's life had been spent in the military. He was just over six feet tall. His eyes were blue like arctic sky, his short hair blonde. His face was square, with a trace of reddish shadow on his jaw. He had a small, crescent shaped scar on his chin.

Korov had been summoned to Vysotsky's office. He stood at attention in front of the General's wide desk.

"You are going to Italy, Arkady." Vysotsky opened a drawer, took out a bottle of Vodka and two glasses. "Sit." He gestured at a chair.

"Sir." Korov sat. Vysotsky poured, handed him a glass.

"Na Zdrov'nya."

"Na Zdrov'nya."

They emptied the glasses. Vysotsky poured another and sat back. "You will work with the Americans again."

"The Project?"

"Yes. This is a mission of highest secrecy. There must be no hint of your involvement."

Arkady noticed the choice of words. Your involvement. Your, not our. It meant he was on his own if anything happened.

"I understand. What are my orders?"

"You will meet Harker's team in Florence. They will provide weapons and logistical support. The target is a man called Foxworth. Harker says he is the leader of AEON, the group that was behind the CIA conspiracy against us. She says Ogorov acts on Foxworth's orders."

"Why is she telling you this?"

"She's worried. She showed me proof something secret is happening here and she thinks AEON is behind it. It is as before, there is a threat to both our nations. Or so Harker believes. I have looked for myself. There is a significant project, but I find no official authorization, no records. Harker says it is Ogorov. Your orders are to try and confirm his association with Foxworth and AEON."

Korov lifted his glass and considered his vodka. "Minister Ogorov has been interfering with our operations."

Vysotsky nodded. "Just so. Ogorov has the ear of our President. If he is plotting against the Motherland I must have proof of treason before I go after him."

"And this man, Foxworth. You want him questioned about Ogorov?"

"Exactly. That is Harker's intention. I am impressed by her determination. She risks everything by working with us. I don't think her President knows about it."

"That would be consistent," Korov said. "She doesn't strike me as someone who is bound by the rules."

"That makes her a valuable ally and a dangerous enemy," Vysotsky said. "Go to Italy. Find out which she is."

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Selena walked with her dog on the beach near her childhood home in California. Her older brother was there, except he was much younger than she was, only three or four years old, making a sand castle on the beach with a red plastic bucket. Her dog had been gone a long time. She knew that, yet there he was.

She watched a black cloud grow large on the horizon. She looked around for her brother, but he was gone. She looked for her dog, but he was gone, too. The beach was empty. She was alone.

A moment before it had been bright and sunny, but now it was cold. Dark. She looked again at the ocean. The cloud  was huge, closer. Bolts of lightning flashed inside it, great crackling streaks of electricity that hurled themselves into the waters.

A harsh, biting wind whipped grains of sand around her. She was cold and afraid. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep warm. She tried to call out, but no sound came from her mouth.

The cloud was almost upon her. Beneath it, a towering, dark wave rushed toward her, twenty, thirty, forty feet high, foam curling and boiling on the top. It terrified her. She tried to run, but her feet wouldn't move. She couldn't feel her feet. She opened her mouth to scream. The wall of water crashed over her. She couldn't breathe...

Selena gasped and opened her eyes. It took a moment to understand where she was. She was lying in a bed. A hospital bed. The ceiling above her was cream colored. The sheets under her were crisp. She turned her head to one side. A tier of machines stood by the bed. Green blips moved in a constant line across a screen. Digital numbers monitored her life signs. A plastic bag of fluid hung on a rack with a tube running down to her arm.

She couldn't feel her legs. She had a headache. There was something wrong, but she didn't know what it was. She turned her head the other way.

Nick was asleep in a chair by her bed. He was unshaven, his jacket off, showing the .45 he wore in a shoulder holster. He looked ten years older, his face drawn and tired.

She couldn't remember how she'd gotten here, wherever here was. The last thing she remembered was the jungle. They'd been in a firefight, she'd shot someone.

I was hit. I didn't have a vest. I'm in a hospital.

She couldn't feel her hips. She couldn't move her legs.

Probably drugs, pain killers. That's why I can't feel much. Why can't I move my legs?

Her throat was dry. "Nick," she rasped.

He came awake, startled. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red.

"Selena. You had me worried." His smile didn't quite come off.

"Water," she said. "Please."

He took a cup with a bending straw from a table by the bed and held it to her mouth.

"Not too much."

The water was like nectar. She swallowed and coughed.

"Where am I?"

"Bethesda. You needed an operation." He looked at her. "You've been out for five days."

"Five days?"

"You were hit bad. You went into shock. The doctors kept you sedated."

"I can't feel my legs." She watched his face pale.

Oh, shit,
she thought.
What's wrong?

"It's the drugs," he said. He talked quickly. "You're loaded up with pain killers. You'll be feeling plenty in a day or so." He smiled.

"How bad?"

"How bad, what?"

"How bad was I hit?"

"You took one through the gut and out the back. It nicked the liver. It missed the hepatic artery, or we wouldn't be talking. You're going to have a couple of scars to compete with me."

"What else? There's more, I can tell."

He looked down at the floor, then back up at her. "The bullet nicked a vertebra on your spine. They had to operate to clean out the fragments. They got them all."

"Nick, I can't feel my legs. Tell me I'm not paralyzed. Tell me."

She felt panic hovering. Fear. If she couldn't walk, what would she do? How would she function? Her passion for life was built around action, athletics, movement. Movement. Something she'd always taken for granted, never thought about.

"Your spinal cord wasn't hit, but it's bruised. That causes temporary paralysis."

"Temporary? This will go away?"

"Yes. They're optimistic." He paused. "For the short term, you can't walk. But it will heal. You have to believe that."

"How long? How long until I find out if it's permanent?"

"A month. Maybe less. As it heals, you'll get feeling back. You're in for some tough rehab, but it should all come back."

"If it heals."

"Yes."

"You forgot the vests." As she said it, she wished she could take the words back.

He looked down at the floor again.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I did."