The Project 05 - The Tesla Secret

crates. Splinters exploded from the raw wood. A long piece struck Lamont under his eye and lodged in his cheek. Blood started. He kept firing. The men in the hall retreated.
    Stalemate.
    Fuck this. Nick stood and ran to the opposite wall. As he ran he got an angle on the hall. He saw one of the shooters and put two rounds into him before he could react.
    The last one was stupid. He reached around the door to shoot at Nick. Lamont fired twice. The man slid down the doorframe, folded over in the opening and stopped moving. The room was filled with the smell of spent gunpowder and the hot copper smell of blood. Then the stink of emptying bowels.
    Nick went to the workbench and picked up the laptop. He looked at the dead men and holstered his pistol.
    "Game over," he said.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Harker leaned back in her chair.
    "The tabloids are calling it the 'Brighton Beach Bloodbath' and blaming it on a mob feud. The men you killed were all tied to one of the Russian gangs. The crates in Endgame were full of pornography packaged as New Age Seminars."
    "That's a nice touch," Lamont said. He had a large, white bandage on his face where the splinter had gouged him. It stood out against his dark skin.
    "That building is made out of solid concrete with thick doors." Nick tugged on his ear. "Nobody heard the shooting. Or if they did, they thought it was none of their business."
    "How did you make it out of there?" Stephanie asked.
    "There was a second set of stairs at the end of the hall that led down to a garage. We borrowed one of their cars."
    Lamont said, "Nice car, too. A brand new Beemer. We left it parked in a loading zone. It's New York, it would have been towed in minutes."
    Ronnie laughed.
    "That was a pretty extreme reaction," Nick said. "They couldn't have known what we wanted. Hell, we could have been cops. But they got hard core right from the start."
    "They had orders to stop anyone from finding out what was in there," Elizabeth said. "It had to be more than porn."
    "The laptop you brought back is encrypted," Stephanie said. "1024 bit encryption. That's state of the art, as good as it gets. Military grade."
    "When will you know what's on it?"
    "Freddie's working on it now."
    Freddie was a maxed out Cray XMT in the computer room. Stephanie had names for all her computers.
    "I don't like the Russian connection." Nick said. "Why are Russians involved?"
    Lamont looked at Nick. "Maybe it's just about porn. Mafia stuff."
    "The Russian mafia is bad news but they don't start shooting people unless they have to. It gets attention and makes trouble. Look at the headlines we got."
    "This isn't about porn," Harker said, "it's something else. You went there because we found Endgame's number on that phone in California. It stirred up a hornet's nest. Foxworth is playing hardball for a good reason."
    "What's next, Director?"
    She set her pen down on her desk. "I want to see what's on that computer. It might give us the next step."

CHAPTER NINE

    Malcolm Foxworth pressed a button concealed in the carving on his desk. A flat panel slid open along the top, revealing a large monitor and keyboard. He pressed a key and the monitor elevated itself. He looked at his gold Rolex. A minute to go. While he waited, he imagined the future and smiled. Precisely one minute later the screen came alive. It showed images of eight men, the other members of AEON's inner circle.
    AEON had begun in the 18th Century. A group of wealthy and powerful men in England and France had formed an association based on the mutual creation of wealth and the application of power to achieve their goals.
    The nine members always addressed each other on a first name basis. It created an illusion of collegiality, but Foxworth had no illusions about the group. None of them did. The leaders of AEON were more like a school of sharks than a gathering of colleagues. Like sharks, they would turn on any member who showed signs of weakness or lack of judgement. Alliances between members were matters of common convenience. Friendship was not unknown, but it was rare.
    Foxworth began the conference.
    "Gentlemen," he said. "Thank you for joining me."
    There were nods of recognition.
    "I believe we can keep it brief today. Anatoly, can you give us an update on your progress?"
    Anatoly Ogorov was Russia's Foreign Minister.
    "The Tesla device is almost complete." Nods of approval greeted his words. "I have been assured that we are close to testing the prototype. Construction of the