"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.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The face of AEON's representative from Brazil filled the teleconference screen in Foxworth's London office. Don Julio Silva was apologetic. His voice oozed with false sincerity. Foxworth listened and controlled his rage. He knew what was coming. The pack had turned on its leader.
"Malcolm, most unfortunately these last adventures have failed, at great expense to the organization. It has brought unwanted attention." Don Julio paused. "We are appreciative of the guidance you have provided these 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.