Tesla Secret, The (19 page)

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

The door was made of the same ceramic material as the walls. Bukharin pulled it open a crack and peered through. The buzzing sound got louder, like the sound of a thousand bees. He opened the door wide. They went through the door and spread out to the sides, weapons ready.

The base of the pyramid was a vast, square chamber. A wide walkway of concrete went around the four sides. Light strips on the walls gave off the same glow that lit the hall. The walls sloped upward for a hundred feet or more to a flat ceiling high overhead. Like the hallway, the walls were lined with white ceramic material.

Nick looked out over what seemed to be a bottomless pit, trying to make sense of what he saw. In the exact center of the chamber was a flat concrete platform surrounded by a low railing. Bridge-like walkways crossed to it from each side of the perimeter. Four massive columns of copper rose from the pit to support the corners of the platform and continued upward, halfway to the ceiling. A constant, crackling discharge of blue-white lightning danced from column to column. Four thick rods of copper projected from the ceiling above the columns. Electricity flowed in four continuous streams between the columns and the rods.

In the middle of the platform was a machine. The buzzing sound came from six giant wheels made of smooth, circular bands of metal. Each was an odd golden color. Each was at least twenty feet high. They turned in a steady blur.

Impossible,
Nick thought.

The wheels weren't attached to anything. They floated in the air without visible support, spinning above a curved cradle of silvery metal placed between two large, free-standing flat sheets of metal bolted to the concrete. A faint, blue haze shimmered over everything.

The air stank with the scent of ozone. The metal of his AK felt warm and gave little shocks to the touch. Static sparks jumped from Nick's clothes as he moved. His hair stirred in restless movement.

On the far side of the pyramid was a door. A thick ledge extended out over the pit, supporting an elevator shaft. The shaft rose to the ceiling and whatever was above. The wall on the right side of the pit had a closed set of double doors.

Lamont stared at the impossible wheels. "It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie."

"The Matrix," Ronnie said, "or Stargate."

"Listen up," Nick said.

"The control room will be up there." Korov pointed toward the ceiling. "This is the heart of it. We take this out. Nick, you and I will plant charges. Ronnie, Lamont, you cover the elevator and the doors. Bukharin, Ivanesky, stay here and cover the passageway."

Korov and Nick walked to the machine. Nick went to the cradle under the spinning wheels. His body tingled with electricity. He knelt on one knee and placed charges at the base of the cradle. He inserted detonators and hoped the random electricity didn't set them off. Then he went to one of the flat metal sheets and began there. Nothing on the platform would survive. Korov was busy at the copper columns.

Nick heard two clicks in his tiny earpiece, then Selena's voice.

"Nick, can you hear me?" The transmission crackled with static.

He coughed.

"Twenty minutes ago a helicopter brought someone in. A second one just landed. It's a troop transport."

In Virginia, Selena watched glowing green figures emerge from the aircraft like a stream of ants. The stream formed up into three orderly lines.

"30 men. They're getting ready to go inside."

"Shit," Nick said.

"What?" Korov looked up from where he was placing a detonator in a block of Semtex next to one of the columns.

"Assault troops, outside. We're about to have company." He stood and spoke into his headset. "Ronnie, Lamont. Get back over here."

Korov didn't ask how Nick knew. He reached for a timer.

"Stop what you are doing, Colonel. You, American. Tell your men to drop their weapons."

The voice came from behind them. They turned. Bukharin had his AK-47 leveled at them. Nick saw Ivanesky's body lying on the floor by the hall entry. Across the way, Ronnie and Lamont froze.

Korov's voice was calm, but his face betrayed his anger.

"Traitor. You killed Zhukov, didn't you? I wasn't sure. I thought perhaps one of the airmen."

Bukharin's face was expressionless. "The Lubyanka is a good place to consider treachery. You will..."

He never finished whatever he was going to say. A shot from across the way stopped him mid-sentence. Nick felt the burn of the bullet passing his cheek. The round took Bukharin in the throat. Blood gushed from his mouth. He stumbled backward against the platform railing and over it. The body fell away into the pit. Across the way, Lamont lowered his rifle.

Nick looked at him. "Nice shot. Kind of close, though."

"Didn't hit you, did I? You Jarheads aren't the only ones who can shoot."

"Time to leave. You'd better get over here." Nick turned to Korov. "I thought it would be Ivanesky."

Korov shook his head. "Bukharin was smarter than Ivanesky." He knelt down again. "Set the timers for eight minutes."

"Not much time," Nick said.

"Eight minutes."

They set the timers. Korov stood. "We boogie now, yes?".

"Da, now we boogie."

They hurried to the passage entrance. Ronnie and Lamont were already waiting. They stepped through the door.

The entry doors burst open. Troops in black uniforms with red patches on their shoulders began firing across the pit. Bullets chipped pieces from the wall. Nick slammed the door shut. Rounds hammered the other side.

"Those aren't our soldiers," Korov said. "I don't recognize those uniforms."

They ran down the passage. The door flew open behind them. Nick had a grenade out and ready. He turned and hurled it with everything he had and ran after the others.

The explosion slapped at his eardrums. He was outside the kill zone, but the men coming through the door hadn't been that lucky. Someone was screaming. Nick didn't look back.

He reached the shaft leading to the surface. Lamont and Ronnie had already started up the rungs. Korov stood to the side and fired down the corridor.

"Go on," he said.

Nick began climbing. He felt like he had the strength of lions. When those charges blew, he wanted to be as far from the pyramid if possible. He climbed as if demons were behind him.

It was a long way back to the surface. Going down had been hard. Going up was worse. He focused on a steady rhythm. Reach, step, reach, step, over and over. One rung at a time, one after the other. In his mind, eight minutes was counting down. Then he was at the top. Ronnie grabbed his hand and boosted him up and out into the night. Korov tumbled out of the shaft after him. It had started to snow. They ran for the river, where their escape boat waited.

In Virginia, Elizabeth and Selena and Stephanie watched the scene unfold.

"Don't talk to them," Elizabeth said to Selena. "They're a little busy at the moment."

In the control room on top of the pyramid, Yuri watched his readouts. The words TARGET ACQUIRED appeared in red on his screen. Then, LOCKED.

"One minute," he said.

Ogorov and Kaminsky watched the video feed from the peak, waiting for the moment the proton beam would rip into space and vaporize the American satellite. The crystal glowed with blue light.

The floor vibrated. The power meters for the device jumped into the red. Malenkov's face turned white. He had just enough time to think about reaching for his switches.

Nick and the others were almost to the river when the charges detonated. The air rushed away and for an instant there was total silence. Then the top of the pyramid vanished in a burst of blue light. An enormous ball of electric blue energy blossomed and turned the night into day.

The shock wave lifted Nick from his feet and hurled him through the air. He struck hard and felt something give in his shoulder. The sound was unlike anything he'd ever heard, like thunder and lightning and high explosive all combined.

Debris hurtled past. Afterimages of light danced behind his eyelids. A dense cloud of purple, red and white columned into the air and hung like a leprous rose in the air.

Nick raised his head. Where the pyramid had been was nothing. Nothing at all. Only a glowing, cavernous opening in the ground.

"Maybe you used a little too much Semtex," Ronnie said.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

The blast had knocked all of them down. They got to their feet. Nick felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His earpiece was filled with static. He pulled it out.

"There's a pier on the river," Korov said. "The boat should be there."

The ground was flat for another hundred yards before it sloped down to the river.  There was a gate in the fence and a guard house. A soldier stood outside, staring openmouthed at the glowing cloud behind them. He called out and brought his rifle up. Korov shouted something.

The guard was young, little more than a boy. He hesitated. Korov came up to him, shouting at him in Russian. The youth snapped to attention. When he was close enough, Korov swung his AK and slammed the guard in the side of his head. The boy went down.

"You kill him?" Lamont asked.

"No. He's just a soldier doing his duty. But he will have a very bad headache later."

They went through the gate and hurried down a set of steps to the pier. A boat waited there, a gray shape in the darkness, diesels idling. The snow fell faster. The wooden pier was slippery under their feet.

The boat was a Svetljak class, a hundred and fifty feet of serious business. A forest of antennas and masts rose from the superstructure. Thirty millimeter guns were mounted fore and aft. A gangway extended from the deck to the pier.

An officer watched them approach. They went up the gangway and Korov began talking with him. There were crewmen on deck. Nick hoped no one asked him any questions.

The crew took in the gangway. The deck throbbed and the boat pulled away from the pier.

Ronnie said, "That doesn't look good."

He pointed through the falling snow at a second boat coming from the south. Water foamed around the bow as the vessel sped toward them. It was another Svetljak class, with a single 30mm gun aft and a heavier 76mm forward. The boat was still some distance away. A squad of soldiers on deck wore the same black uniforms and red patches as the men AEON had sent against them at the pyramid.

"I thought this was too easy," Lamont said. "Now what?"

"It's up to Korov now," Nick said.

Korov saw the boat and said something to the officer. They ran to a door. Nick heard their feet pounding up metal stairs, heading for the bridge.

A warning shot from the 76mm passed overhead. Klaxons sounded and a harsh voice in Russian came through the ship's speakers. The crew ran to their stations. The gun turrets rotated toward the oncoming ship.

The Ob River was wide like the Mississippi, with plenty of room to maneuver. The engines went to full power. The boat heeled over to port and headed for the middle of the river. Nick grabbed the rail to keep his balance. Another round whistled past. The ship's guns fired. Then the boat swung back and headed straight at the other ship.

Nick had never been in a naval battle. He'd never wanted to be in one. He felt helpless, at the mercy of the unseen captain. He ran forward and watched as the two ships drew near on what looked like a collision course.

Ronnie and Lamont came up beside him.

"Jesus," Lamont said. "Like playing chicken with the Iranians in the Gulf."

Svetljak class boats mounted two torpedo tubes. Two white trails shot from the bow of their ship and bored in a straight line toward the other ship as it began to turn. The 76mm gun boomed. The shell struck behind them on the superstructure. The blast knocked the three of them down. Something tore into Nick's back. Their ship veered away.

The torpedoes ripped into the hull of the attacking boat and detonated in a burst of flame and light. A gigantic spout of water rose in the air. The vessel shuddered and slowed and began to go down by the bow as water poured into the breach.

Nick had time to realize he'd been hit before he lost consciousness. 

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Three days later they were back in Virginia. 

Shrapnel had torn a chunk out of Nick's back by his right shoulder. Six inches to the left and it would have taken his head off. A Russian naval doctor had stitched him up. Vysotsky had gotten them to Chelyabinsk and out of Russia.

Nick's arm was in a sling to discourage him from using it. He'd need some rehab once the stitches healed, but aside from a new scar, he'd been lucky. He was on painkillers. He liked the relief. He didn't like the side effects.

"I wonder how Korov will deal with Vysotsky." Nick tried to get comfortable in the chair. "You were right about him."

"I'm sure the Major will think of something," Harker said.

"He's been promoted to Colonel."

"Oh? That's smart on Vysotsky's part."

"I've said it before. It's too bad Korov isn't one of ours."

"What are we going to do about Foxworth?" Ronnie asked. "We still have him to deal with."

"Where is Foxworth now?" Nick asked her. He rubbed his face. The pills made it feel numb.

"Holed up in London. He's gotten paranoid since you hit him in Italy. When he comes out he's surrounded by bodyguards. He's got a new chief of security who used to work for the Bulgarian secret police."

"Guess we made him nervous," Ronnie said.

"Do we have any idea what he's planning?" Selena asked.

She's looking better,
Nick thought.
She's recovering.
A small piece of his guilt dissolved.

"No. I want everyone to stay alert in case he comes after us again. He'll piece together what happened in Russia. Foxworth seems to take these things personally."

"We have to take him out," Nick said.

"You can't just kill him."

"Why not?"

"You know why not." Harker looked at him.

"No, I don't. Because it's not politically correct?"

"Because we don't assassinate people. Not since the 70s."

"You don't believe that."

"I have to believe that. For the most part, it's true. The Project acts outside the bounds all the time, but we have the evidence we need to act. Rules of engagement. We have to draw a line somewhere, otherwise we're just like Foxworth."

"Foxworth is an evil son of a bitch and he has to be stopped."

"There's a burden of proof we have to meet."

"You don't think Foxworth meets that? As I recall, the burden of proof is that someone has to have taken violent action against us or represent a 'continuing and persistent, imminent threat' to the country. Foxworth is persistent as hell."

Harker said nothing.

"Director, I don't think legality is the issue anymore. He built a super weapon that could have targeted the White House. He was going to attack us. You didn't see that thing in the pyramid. It was beyond belief. He doesn't seem to care if he starts the next world war and he's going crazy with a brain tumor. What more do you need?  He's a direct threat. Talk to Rice. Convince him."

"I already talked to him. Rice agrees with you. He thinks Foxworth is worse than Bin Laden. But it's not the same kind of situation. We're talking about a respected public figure. There's no outward knowledge of what he's done. Rice can't make an official finding. Unofficially, the White House would be happy if Foxworth was no longer an issue."

Nick's ear itched. He scratched it. "So do we go for him or not?"

She tapped her pen on her desk. "We do. Everyone is vulnerable, even people like him. But if anything goes wrong, there's no extraction, no backup. We'll be on our own."

"What else is new?" Ronnie said.

That evening Nick and Selena went to a restaurant near DuPont Circle. His eyes swept the room as they sat down, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The bulge under the jacket. The drink left untouched. Sunglasses in the middle of the night. Someone looking quickly away. The unguarded stare.

That took care of the amateurs. Professionals were harder to spot, but everyone made a mistake sooner or later. Harker had said everyone was vulnerable and that included himself and Selena. It wasn't like the movies. If you made a mistake, someone died.

He wasn't over feeling guilty about Mexico. He felt awkward with her. The food came. Selena toyed with her silverware.

"I was thinking about the meeting this morning. Do you think it's right?" she said.

"What?"

"That we can decide someone is so much of a threat that we act as judge and jury. Execute him. Without a trial."

No one was within earshot. "You mean our British friend. You know what I think."

"Even Charles Manson got a trial."

"Manson didn't have the power to buy judges and prosecutors or have control over what the public reads in the paper."

"But it just brings us down to his level."

Nick set his fork down. "Where are you going with this? You know what he represents. If this was 1933 and you had a chance to kill Hitler, would you take it?"

Selena took a bite of her steak.

"Foxworth is the enemy. Not just our enemy, everyone's. He's a psychopath. He'll do anything to get what he wants."

"Still."

"We can debate the morality of it but Foxworth isn't concerned with the morality of what he does."

"That's exactly what I mean. If we act in a way that's immoral it makes us no better than he is."

"I think morality is on our side. We have a moral duty to protect ourselves and our country."

"Someone else will take his place."

"Yes. But it will take AEON time to recover. They'll be in confusion, their plans disrupted. People will live who would otherwise die. I think it's justifiable. Putting down Foxworth might give us time to break up AEON for good."

"You talk about him as if he's a dangerous animal."

"He is. Though that's a little rough on the animals."

"Is everything so black and white for you?"

"Damn it, Selena. You know me better than that. What's bugging you?"

She took her time answering. She drank some wine and set the glass down before she spoke.

"Honestly? I guess it's my own morality I'm questioning."

"You feel bad about what you do? What we do?"

"I'd be lying if I said no. I thought I'd come to terms with it, but this has brought it all up again. It's not like I think about it all the time. I know it's necessary, that people like Foxworth have to be eliminated. I just wish we weren't the ones who had to do it."

"Somebody has to. We're part of the immune system for the human race. We try and stop the cancers out there. Foxworth is a cancer."

Selena looked down at her steak, blood red on her plate.

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore." She looked at him. "You could have been killed."

"Yeah. But I wasn't."

"But you could have been." She pushed the plate away. "I think we need to back off a little."

A headache started.

"What do you mean?"

"I have to think about it, where this is going. I need some distance. After everything that's happened the last few months." She stopped. "After I got shot. Then you almost get killed."

She drank some wine. "I have to think about it," she said again.