The Project 05 - The Tesla Secret

past years. However, we all feel it best if you step down from the Chair."
    "All of you?"
    Don Julio's face hardened, "Yes, Malcolm. All of us. Out of respect, it has been decided to tell you of our decision rather than simply terminate your position."
    Transitions of leadership within AEON were always terminal, but the illusion of civility had to be maintained. There was tradition to be considered. Don Julio was giving him time to set his affairs in order and make his arrangements. Perhaps even arrange his own death in a comfortable manner of his choosing. Socrates and his cup. Otherwise, death was likely to be neither comfortable nor convenient.
    "I see," Foxworth said. His face betrayed nothing.
    "I knew you'd understand," Don Julio said. "For what it is worth, Malcolm, I truly regret the necessity of this decision. And now I am afraid I must say goodbye."
    The screen went blank. Foxworth stared at it for a few seconds, then picked up a heavy cut crystal ashtray and threw it at the monitor. It exploded in a shower of glass and sparks.
    He understood, all right. Weak, ambitious minions grasping for power. People without his vision, his sense of destiny. Cautious, small minds unwilling to take risks and speed the day of AEON's supremacy. They were about to find out what a mistake they had made. If they could be swayed to betrayal by a few setbacks, they deserved to die. Malcolm had prepared for this day. His head throbbed with sudden pain. His hand began trembling. He stuffed it in his pocket.
    He activated the intercom on his desk.
    "Mandy, get Dragonov in here. After him, Morel."
    A few minutes later Foxworth's new chief of security knocked on the door frame. Foxworth beckoned him in.
    "You sent for me, sir?"
    "Increase security to level one immediately. There will be attempts on my life."
    "Yes, sir."
    "I have a difficult assignment for you. It will require you to make use of your old contacts and I want you to handle it personally. There is a high element of risk involved."
    Valentin Dragonov had been a senior sergeant in the Bulgarian secret police before he'd been recruited. He was intelligent and totally ruthless. His contacts included the faceless men who still ran the interrogation cells of Eastern Europe and the old Soviet Union. Dragonov liked women. He liked money. Foxworth had provided both, in generous amounts. The Bulgarian was perfect for what Foxworth had in mind.
    Foxworth took a folder from his desk and handed it across. It contained the photographs, names and locations of the other members of AEON's inner circle. With Ogorov gone, there were seven.
    "Open the folder."
    Dragonov did as he was told. The first page showed a picture of Don Julio Silva and listed his locations, habits and vulnerabilities.
    "These men are to be eliminated. I understand you will need to make plans, but time is critical. Do it quickly. Each will be alert and each one will be heavily guarded. Plan accordingly. Do you understand?"
    Dragonov said. "These are very high profile targets. I will need to recruit. I will need ordnance. All this will be expensive."
    "Get what you need. You have a blank check. Hire who you want. Make sure there are no trails back here."
    Foxworth took several banded packets of purple 500 Euro notes from a drawer and pushed them across his desk. Dragonov eyed the money.
    "This is pocket money for personal expenses. If you need more, tell me. With each success I will give you 200,000 Euros. When all seven assignments have been completed, you will receive an additional 1,000,000 Euros in a Swiss account. I trust this will be satisfactory?"
    The large man nodded.
    "Good. Don't let me down."
    He didn't need to say more. Dragonov had carried his predecessor's body from the library in Italy.
    The Bulgarian picked up the money. "I won't fail."
    "That's all."
    Dragonov left the room. With Silva and the others handled, Foxworth considered what to do about Elizabeth Harker and the Project. She had to be removed, permanently. He considered possibilities, complications. The Project wasn't Langley or NSA, but their security was still formidable.
    H e'd been saving a unique asset for something special. Foxworth decided this was the time to use it. With the right spin there would be few consequences. No one would trace it back to him. He pictured the result, watched it happen in his mind's eye. It could be done. He smiled to himself.
    Morel entered the office with his briefcase full of magic.
    It was turning into