The Project 05 - The Tesla Secret

security cameras above. "This one is the main feed. Everything routes through here. We're looking at everything they see."
    He plugged the video recorder into the device and turned it on.
    "We'll set up a two minute loop and take the real ones off line. Whoever's looking will see what we want them to."
    "Nothing."
    "Right." They waited. Ronnie checked the recording and attached another lead to the main feed.
    "Taking the cameras off line...now." Ronnie pressed a switch. The image flickered and steadied.
    "We're good to go."
    Nick said, "Once we get oriented, we head for the second floor. The library is in the rear. When we find it, Selena, you're the boss. Tell us what to do. When we get the Codex, we get out."
    "What could be simpler?" Lamont said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

    Project security went everywhere with Elizabeth since the attacks on her team. She had 24/7 surveillance on her Georgetown home. She was always guarded when she wasn't inside Project HQ.
    Elizabeth closed her office door and took the elevator down to the ground floor exit. A black, armored Lincoln waited for her. It had five inches of armor plate, bullet proof glass, steel sidewalls, run flat tires and a turbo-charged diesel engine. It wasn't good on mileage. Her driver held the rear door open for her.
    "Good evening, Director."
    "Good evening, Tom."
    Tom closed the door after her. Her other bodyguard was a big man, a comforting presence. He got in the front passenger seat. A Remington 12 gauge pump stood upright in a rack next to him. Elizabeth began reviewing the latest satellite data from Russia as the car rolled out of the garage.
    There was new activity at the Irtysh air base. She had battled with DIA over getting a satellite tasked full time to observe, with only partial success. There were windows of time when the satellite was out of range. But a picture was emerging.
    The Russians had increased security. She estimated that a full company of soldiers was stationed at the base. Anyone approaching the pyramid had to pass through three checkpoints, each one more elaborate than the one before.
    There was new fencing. A new road from the base to the pyramid. Guards patrolled. Dogs. Light towers were going up. Someone was putting a lot of effort into guarding something.
    She glanced out through the tinted windows of the Lincoln. A yellow motorcycle with two riders in black leather sped by. Both riders wore full helmets with black visors that concealed their faces. As the bike pulled ahead, the passenger turned and threw a dark package behind him toward the car.
    "Fuck!" Tom yelled and hit the brakes.
    The heavy car shuddered and slowed. The armor underneath the engine took the blast. The explosion sounded like a thunderclap inside the car. The Lincoln lifted into the air and the windshield blew out. Bits of glass cut her face. Elizabeth was thrown hard against the door as the car came down on its side and slid along the pavement to a stop.
    Her driver lay unmoving against his door. His partner hung sideways from his seatbelt, unconscious and bleeding. Dazed, she saw the motorcycle turn back. The passenger leaned out with another bomb in his hand.
    Elizabeth never went anywhere without her gun. She drew the Glock and aimed with shaking hands through the opening where the windshield had been. She was seeing double through the smoke, two motorcycles coming toward her. She pulled the trigger as fast as she could, again and again. It felt as if she were underwater, everything in slow motion, the sound of the gunshots muffled and indistinct. Hot brass shells fell around her, a shiny, strange rain.
    The motorcycle slammed down onto the pavement and the bomb meant for her exploded. The bike and riders were enveloped in flame.
    Later, she couldn't remember how she'd gotten out of the car. What she remembered was the sound of sirens and the body of her driver, covered in blood.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

    The Library of Mafra Palace wasn't like any library Nick had seen before. The room was the length of a football field. Ceilings of white plaster molded with floral accents radiated in ribbed arches from a high, closed dome in the center. The library was a testament to the golden age of Baroque architecture.
    The floor was paved with tiles in white, rose and gray. Under the central dome, the tiles formed a circle of geometric patterns bounded by a square. It looked like an expensive oriental rug woven of marble. Two tiers of wooden shelves stretched away on