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 power generator is ahead of schedule."
"What is the projected completion date?"
The speaker was the representative from Brazil, Jose Silva. In one way or another, Silva had gained control of all energy resources in Central and South America. He was one of the world's 100 wealthiest men. He was also the most powerful member of the inner group after Foxworth.
"Late October or early November," Ogorov answered. "Before the American election."
"You have overcome the obstacles?"
"Not all of them. Not yet. There are still problems. But I am confident."
Silva nodded. "Good. Yes, the election. Malcolm, what do you intend to do about that? We must defeat Rice. His policies are making things difficult for us."
There were murmurings of agreement from the others.
"I understand. Steps are being taken. Rice will not be a problem."
"We have your assurances on this?"
Silva wanted to unseat him as leader. Success was the criterion of continued leadership. There was only one answer possible. Foxworth gave it.
"You do."
For the next fifteen minutes they reviewed the European strategy. There was still disagreement about how long to let the Eurozone and the Euro currency continue. AEON intended to bring down the Euro and reap the benefits of the economic depression that was sure to follow. It wasn't a question of if but of when. There was no immediate urgency. They agreed to further deliberation. Foxworth ended the meeting on that note.
He pressed the hidden button and the monitor retracted into the desk. The panel slid back in place. He activated the intercom.
"Mandy, get Healy in here."
"Right away, Malcolm."
A few minutes later Healy knocked and came into the room.
Michael Healy was Foxworth's Chief of Security. He stood in front of Foxworth's huge desk, his feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. Besides overseeing Foxworth's protection, Healy took care of operations that had nothing to do with corporate security or personal protection.
Healy had spent fourteen years in the SAS, Britain's elite Special Forces unit. He'd gotten caught up in a civilian sex scandal involving underage prostitutes and been kicked out of the service for "behavior unbecoming to an officer". A man with his skills could always find work. He'd ended up here, with Foxworth.
His civilian clothes might as well have been starched. The creases in his pants looked like they could cut. His shoes blinded with their shine. His back was erect, his shoulders wide, his face all angles and planes. His eyes were hazel and cold. Foxworth approved. He appreciated discipline.
"Are things ready in America?"
"Everything is in place."
"You are certain there can be no connection back here?"
"Yes."
"Good. You have a green light. Proceed with the operation. That's all."
"Yes, sir." Healy turned smartly and left. Foxworth watched him go.
All the little people with their prattle about democracy and freedom of speech and the rule of law, he thought. Soon there'd be a new rule of law. His law.
CHAPTER TEN
Nick dreamed.
It was hot. He was on a mission in the jungle, carrying his weapons, his gear. He was in a clearing. There was a big spider in the middle of the clearing. Selena was right behind him.
"Don't kill it, Nick. It will make too much noise."
The spider and the clearing disappeared and he was looking at an ancient ruin covered with vines and green things. Serpents and faces were carved on the weathered stones.
"That's it," Selena said behind him.
He turned and looked at her. She wore a pith helmet and a red bikini. She had combat boots and a red plastic pistol.
"Where are your weapons?" he said. "Where's your armor?"
She showed him the pistol, pulled the trigger. Water shot out. Then he was in the middle of a full blown firefight. Bullets chopped the greenery around him. Selena lay next to him, pulling the trigger on her water pistol. The stream was red.
A spot of bright red blossomed on her abdomen, red like her bikini. He watched the blood spread. He dropped his rifle, grabbed her. He tried to stop the blood, pressed his hands on her. Blood poured through his fingers.
"Nick," she said. "Nick."
Her eyes closed. Blood ran out of her mouth. She stopped breathing.
Waves of grief and rage swept through him. He raised his head and howled.
Someone was shaking him. He woke, gasping for air. His cheeks were wet. His heart was trying to pound out of his chest.