Tesla Secret, The (18 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Selena came into Harker's office, using a cane. Stephanie jumped up and hugged her. Selena winced.

"I'm so glad to see you. We were so worried about you."

"I'm fine. Six months and I'll be up to speed."

Selena was pale. She sank into a chair and let out deep breath.

"Maybe longer," she said.

"There's no rush." Elizabeth handed her a headset and a control. "The team is about to land in Chelyabinsk. You'll be able to hear everything. I want you to monitor the Russians. Just in case."

"I understand. Nick can hear us?"

"Yes. The others can't. Just press that button to transmit. When you press it twice, it will alert him so he won't show surprise. Then you can talk."

Selena donned the headset, adjusted the volume. She could hear the engines  and the sounds of men talking in Russian in the cabin. The engine noise made it difficult.

"Do the Russians know we can listen?"

"No."

"I'm going to test it out." She pressed the button twice. "Nick, this is a test. If you can hear me okay, just cough. Like you're clearing your throat."

She heard him cough, once.

"Okay, you're five by five." She paused. "For the record I thought about it, what you said. We're good."

Cough, cough.

"We'll talk when you get back."

Cough.

It felt like a weight off her chest. She'd thought about it every day. Every long night. The job. Nick. She hadn't thought about much else. Whatever happened between them in the future, she didn't want him out where he could get killed thinking she wasn't behind him.

"What was that," Elizabeth said.

"Like I said, a test."

Elizabeth and Stephanie looked at each other.

"Good," Elizabeth said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

The Russians were all Special Forces, hard men. Captain Ilya Zhukov was second in command after Korov. Senior Sergeant Bukharin was recognizable in any army as a career non com. Sergeant Ivanesky was the third man. Korov made the introductions. Ivanesky gave Nick a hard look and walked away with a few words to Korov. Selena's voice sounded in Nick's ear.

"Someone is unhappy with you. He says he will do his job but he doesn't have to like any of you. He said he's going to check on the chutes."

Nick coughed.

"You must excuse Sergeant Ivanesky," Korov said. "His father was a helicopter pilot in Afghanistan. One of your stinger missiles killed him."

"He doesn't like us. Can we trust him?"

Korov bristled. "He is Spetsnaz. He will obey orders without question. Ivanesky is one of my best men."

The Americans were dressed as the others, in gray and black and white camouflage uniforms and black jump boots and berets. Nick wore the rank markings of a Major. Anyone looking at the group would have seen nothing out of order. A small group of soldiers going somewhere. Ronnie could have been from the Siberian steppes. The only thing unusual was Lamont's skin color. People would guess he was from one of the former Soviet Republics in the south. Unusual, but not unknown.

Korov had provided AK-47 carbines for their primary weapon.

"I thought about the new AN-94," he said, as he handed Nick a rifle. "It's accurate, but trouble in the field."

"How so? I thought the 94 was replacing the AKs."

"They're supposed to. But they're too complicated. Expensive. Very good for accurate, high rate of fire but difficult to maintain. They jam, they catch on your clothes. I don't like them. We stick with these. Besides, you are familiar with them."

"Half the world is familiar with them," Nick said. Half the world was, usually the half that hated America.

Their ride was an Antonov AN-72, nicknamed the
Cheburashka
by the Russians after a popular cartoon character. The name came from the unusual engine configuration, two huge jets mounted forward on the tops of the wings like giant ears. The plane had been in production since the 80s. A large cargo door in the rear made it ideal for their purpose. Thinking about a jump at low altitude at night made Nick's back ache in anticipation.

The air crew ignored the Americans, assuming they were Russian, though they'd given Lamont odd looks. As long as everyone kept their mouth shut, they'd be all right. They all knew a few Russian phrases and words. An airman brought Nick a cup of steaming black tea and he thanked him in Russian. The man nodded and returned forward.

Each man had a small pack in addition to his parachute. The Russian parachutes were their newest stealth model, almost invisible from the ground, similar to the American design. Korov had gone over the differences with them. Still the same procedure. Jump. Pull cord. Land. Assuming the chute opened. They almost always did.

Ronnie, Nick and Lamont sat on one side. The fuselage was lined with strap benches, just like in the states. When you came down to it, the military forces of the world were much the same everywhere. What was different was the degree of professionalism. The Russian elite forces had that in spades.

Korov and his men sat on the opposite side of the plane. Nick was too wired to doze off. Ronnie turned his
jish
over in his fingers, reciting a Navajo prayer to himself. His lips moved silently. Lamont sat with his eyes half closed. Sergeant Ivanesky stared at them. When Ivanseky saw Nick notice him, he looked away.

"We'd better keep an eye on that one," Nick said to Lamont.

"Yeah. I noticed. He doesn't like us much."

"Selena said one of our missiles got his father. In Afghanistan."

"Explains it. I wouldn't like us much either."

Korov spoke into his headset, listened. He got up and came over to Nick.

"We are ten minutes away. Get ready. We jump together. I will lead, you come last."

"Got it."

"There is little wind. Snow on the ground, it will show tracks. We are coming in at 2000 feet."

The cargo door dropped open and the engines slowed. The plane lost altitude and speed. The inside of the cabin turned freezing cold as the wind sucked all the heat into the Russian night. They formed up. The engines maintained a steady beat. The light over the open door changed from red to green.

"Go," Korov yelled in Russian. He leapt into the darkness. The others followed close behind.

Nick didn't like low altitude jumps. That close to the ground, there was no room for error. He kept his knees bent tight together and his stomach taut. The chute opened with a familiar jolt that grabbed him in the groin. The night sky was cloud covered. There was no light. The air smelled of coming snow.

The landing zone was flat, free of boulders or trees. The ground came up in seconds, a white blur emerging from the darkness. The snow cover wasn't enough to cushion the shock. Nick hit hard and rolled. Warning stabs of pain shot up his spine.

He was last man down. He pulled in his chute and ignored the pain. The others had gathered around something. Nick walked over and looked down at the body of Captain Zhukov. He lay shattered on the ground, his chute tangled about him. The bones of his legs stuck out through his bloody uniform. It was a bad way to begin.

Korov was stone faced. "Leave the chutes over him."

They covered the body.

"The river canal is that way," Korov said. "We go there and follow it in."

He set off at a fast trot. The snow crunched under their boots. Someone's equipment creaked. The pyramid loomed on their right. They ran until they came to the canal and followed it to the shaft. Water from the Irtysh River plummeted down over the edge and out of sight. Freezing spray drifted over the opening. Steel rungs covered with a thin coating of ice descended at precise intervals along the side of the shaft.

Korov gestured. "Nick, take the point. I will come last."

Nick slung his AK muzzle down and began the long climb to whatever lay below.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

If there had been a window in Elizabeth's office, she could have looked out on a warm Indian Summer afternoon. There was no window. She had a satellite display on the wall monitor instead.

They had infrared visual on the objective. Selena, Stephanie and Elizabeth had been listening to the mission unfold. The jump. The death of the Russian captain. They watched the luminous heat signatures of the men run toward the river canal, turn, and reach the black hole of the water shaft. They heard Korov tell Nick to start down.

The shaft was visible only as a dim heat gradient. Selena watched one of the green figures detach itself from the others.

She clicked her microphone button twice. "We can see you and hear you, Nick. We might lose you under ground." She stopped. What should she say? She didn't want to distract him. "I'm with you. We're watching."

Cough.

Then he was gone. The others followed down the ladder. The three women watched until all that remained on the screen was darkness.

"This is the part I hate," Steph said.

"What do you mean?" Selena rubbed the surgical scar on her abdomen, still fresh. It itched.

"The waiting. To see how it turns out."

To see if they come back. The unspoken thought.

"It can't be that bad," Selena said. "How about some coffee?"

"Oh, oh," Elizabeth said.

On screen, the infrared image flared. A large heat source moved into view.

"What's that?" Selena asked.

"A helicopter coming in."

"What's it doing there that early in the morning?"

"Good question. That's not normal."  Elizabeth swore under her breath. "It's trouble. Selena, get Nick."

She pressed her transmitter button twice.

"He's not responding."

"See what I mean about the waiting?" Stephanie said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Ogorov ducked under the whirling blades of his helicopter and walked toward the pyramid. Tonight they would use the weapon for the first time. He'd gotten word the site had been penetrated and radioed ahead to warn Kaminsky.

General Kaminsky waited by the entrance to the pyramid. Ogorov was climbing the hierarchy of power. Kaminsky intended to climb with him. He was Ogorov's man.

"Minister." He clicked the heels of his shiny, high topped boots together.

"What is the situation regarding the intruders?" Ogorov's breath formed clouds of condensation in the cold air.

"I thought it wise to use our special detachment, rather than troops from the base. They're ten minutes behind you. Whoever they are, they will be killed or captured."

Ogorov said, "One of our people is with them. He informs me there are three Americans in the group."

"Americans? What are they doing here?"

"Probably CIA. It doesn't matter. Try not to kill them. I want to question them."

"That may not be possible."

The two men went inside and got into an elevator. It rose in seconds to the control room below the peak of the pyramid. The doors opened with a soft, pneumatic hiss. The room was brightly lit. Several technicians sat in front of instruments monitoring the status of Tesla's device. A digital clock centered on one wall counted down minutes and seconds and tenths of a second in large, red numbers. It showed just under fifteen minutes. The room smelled of tension and stale sweat.

Yuri Malenkov sat in front of the master control panel. A row of six digital gauges measured fluctuating power levels from Tesla's weapon. A screen above the gauges displayed a changing stream of numbers and coordinates. Yuri rose from his seat as Ogorov and Kaminsky came into the room.

"What is our status?" Ogorov asked.

"We are on schedule, Minister." He gestured at the screen. "I am about to activate the targeting sequence."

He flipped back a safety cover and pressed a red button. Gears whined beneath their feet. Outside, the metal walls of the peak above the control room folded back like the petals of a deadly plant. Yuri pressed another button. A blank monitor came alive with a live video stream from the peak. It showed the crystal amplifier and the targeting array.

"We can watch the beam discharge from here. Our sensors will lock on to ODIN and adjust the direction of the beam. Once we fire, the American satellite will be destroyed instantly."

"Good," Ogorov said. "Good."

They waited for ODIN to come within range.

CHAPTER SIXTY

The rungs of the ladder were slippery with ice, hard to grasp. Korov gave the order for lights as they descended. The roar of the falling water from the river made it difficult to hear. Each man wore a light on the side of his helmet. The lights illuminated concrete walls dark with moisture. They climbed down the ladder.

Nick was soaked with spray. He shivered. "We're nearing bottom," he called. "I see light."

His arms and back ached from the strain. The AK felt heavy on his shoulder.
Getting a little old for this stuff.
He pushed the thought aside.
Keep moving. You'll be all right, just keep moving.

He reached a platform built out from the wall. The ladder continued on into darkness below. The platform opened onto a passageway. The passage ran straight and true for fifty yards or more. The walls were lined with white ceramic material and lit with strips that gave off bluish-white light.

Nick stepped away from the ladder and onto the platform. He took a deep breath, unslung his AK and took a few steps into the passage. He heard a faint buzzing sound. The air was warm. He sniffed.

Ozone.

The smell triggered a memory. Years back he'd been caught in a violent thunderstorm in the high mountains of Colorado. A bolt of lightning had struck the ground, not a hundred yards from where he'd crouched under a rocky overhang. The air had smelled just like this before it hit. Like electricity.

Korov joined him.

"Nick, take the point."

"Ronnie, Lamont, let's go."

They set out along the passage, close to the walls. There was no cover. The corridor was a shooting gallery. Nick had a pounding headache to go with the stiffness in his back.

"I don't like having that guy behind us," Ronnie said. "Ivanesky. This isn't like Texas."

"Yeah." The buzzing noise was louder. "There's a door up there, set back in the wall."

Korov caught up with them. "Nick, come ahead with me. Leave the others." He said something in Russian to his men.

"Wait here," Nick said to Ronnie and Lamont. He walked part way down the passage with Korov.

"We have a problem."

"What problem?"

"Captain Zhukov's chute was sabotaged."

Nick took that in. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Someone killed him." Korov was angry. "It had to be one of my men, or someone in the aircraft crew. I could not tell you before."

"Then we're compromised. What do you want to do?"

"We have two choices. We can abort, or we can continue."

Nick thought about what to say.

"Arkady," he said. "My mission is to destroy this installation. What's yours?"

Korov's face showed his tension. "I will be honest. My orders are to secure the installation, not destroy it. This makes a problem between us, I think."

"AEON knows we're here or Captain Zhukov would still be alive. What do you think they'll do with this after they knock down our satellite? Do you think Russia is safe? The Chinese have launched a network of satellites that can deflect the beam from this device back to earth. Anywhere on earth, including Moscow."

Korov raised his eyebrows. "I did not know that." China had long been a traditional enemy. It still was, in spite of trade alliances and public assertions of friendship.

"You can bet Vysotsky does. Once it's operational, whoever has this can target anyone, anywhere. Do you think he's just going to hand it over to the Kremlin? All that power?"

Korov remembered something Vysotsky had once said. They'd been in the General's office. Vysotsky had been drinking. 

"We are patriots, Arkady, you and I. We believe in the destiny of our nation."

Korov had nodded agreement. General Vysotsky often confided in him when he'd been drinking. Vysotsky had mentored him, even treated him as a friend, but Arkady knew better. He was Vysotsky's subordinate, not his friend, in a system built on rigid obedience to orders.

Vysotsky emptied his glass, filled it again. "Our leaders are fools. I thought we had a strong leader again, but I was wrong. We need someone who is not afraid to act. Someone who will not be cowed by the American hegemony. Someone who understands our power. These men, they have no balls. If I was in charge, things would be different."

He waved his glass in the direction of the Kremlin. Vodka spilled onto his desk.

"No balls," he said again.

The weapon would give Vysotsky the power he longed for. Why hadn't he mentioned the targeting satellites? It came together in Korov's mind. Vysotsky hadn't sent him here because he wanted to hand the weapon over to Russia. Seizing control wasn't for the good of the Motherland, it was for the good of Vysotsky. The realization shook him to the core. It was a betrayal.

Nick was right. Vysotsky was using him.

"Arkady." Nick spoke with quiet urgency. "I know the President. He won't back off. This thing can start the next World War. We have to destroy it. If Zhukov was murdered, AEON knows we're here. There's no way we can get control, much less keep it."

The Russians and the Americans watched Korov and Nick talking. Lamont and Ronnie stood apart from the others. Ivanesky watched them with a cold stare.

"Looks like a serious discussion," Lamont said.

"Yeah. Let's hope it's not an argument."

"Korov is a pretty good guy."

"He's a Russian," Ronnie said, "good guy or not. The question is, what kind of Russian?"

"We're about to find out." Nick and Korov were coming back.

"There is a door ahead," Korov said. "It should lead inside. Bukharin, take the point. Ivanesky, behind him. Once through the door, we will carry out our orders and destroy this thing."

He was speaking English. Nick nodded to himself. He'd been certain all along that the Russians spoke English. They were Spetsnaz, after all. Foreign languages, especially English, were a requirement for all Russian Special Forces. When Korov said they would destroy the pyramid, Nick watched for a reaction. Ivanesky showed a flicker of surprise before his face returned to a mask.

"Yes, sir," Bukharin said. The two moved down the hall. The others followed.