Tesla Secret, The (5 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nick and Selena landed at Ruzyně International Airport in the early evening. Nick had altered his appearance so the facial recognition scanners wouldn't pick him out and blow his cover. After the Jerusalem incident he couldn't travel in the open if operational security was in force.

He wore a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Silicone pads and latex changed the shape of his face, giving him a puffy, slightly dissipated look, the face of a drinker. Skin-toned elastic pulled his ears tight against his head. The distinctive scar where a Chinese bullet had taken away the lobe on his left ear was gone. Contact lenses turned his gray eyes hazel. His short black hair was concealed under a brown wig indistinguishable from the real thing.

Nick's Canadian passport was genuine. It identified him as Richard Wilson, a business man from Vancouver. He wore a wedding ring. The customs form he'd filled out on the plane listed the purpose of his visit as business/vacation.

Selena was dressed in practical, plain clothes that made her look dull, an uninteresting woman in awkward brown shoes with a long skirt, excited about her once in a lifetime trip to Eastern Europe. She wore a wig of  mousy brown. Her eyes were the same color behind large glasses with clear plastic frames. She wore a cheap diamond wedding set. Her passport listed her occupation as elementary school teacher and her name as Sylvia Wilson.

They deplaned into the controlled lanes leading to customs. Nick noted the security cameras and guards and kept his head down, just another jet-lagged traveler anxious to get to his hotel.

The customs officer was bored. He looked at the passports and scrutinized Nick's face. He gestured at the camera bag slung over Nick's shoulder.

"Open the bag, please."

Nick opened it, took out the camera. "Latest model," he said. "Stores 5000 pictures."

The official checked that the camera had been declared. He stamped the passport and handed it back.

"Enjoy your stay." He stamped Selena's passport without more than a glance.

They took a taxi to their hotel. The room had been booked from Vancouver using a credit card in Wilson's name. The hotel was a remodeled older building optimistically rated 3 stars. A traveler on a limited budget would choose a hotel like this. From here it was a twenty minute walk to the heart of the old city.

They registered for five days. The clerk gave Nick a large metal key with a long wooden tag on it. He told them to leave the key when they left the hotel. He kept their passports and handed them a FedEx package.

"This came for you, an hour ago. From your office? You are here on business?"

"Yes." Nick handed the clerk a business card. "Business and pleasure. Thank you."

He took the package. A rack of brochures on the counter advertised tours, attractions and restaurants. Selena took several and placed them in her purse.

"Be sure to see the clock," the clerk said to her. "Welcome to Praha."

The elevator was ancient, an elaborate open box of wrought iron with an accordion gate. They rose at a snail's pace. Selena watched the shaft slide by through the black ironwork.

A bird in a cage must feel like this,
she thought.

Their room was stuffy and hot. Nick closed the door and locked it. A window looked out onto the street. He opened the window and watched a brightly painted electric tram rumble by on the street below. His back ached from the flight, a long, dull pain that spread around his side and clawed at him when he moved. They'd flown coach. People like the Wilsons didn't fly business or first class.

He sat on the bed. It sagged under his weight. "We should take those detainees at Gitmo and strap them into economy airplane seats for a few days. That would make them talk."

Selena laughed. "That's cruel and unusual punishment, Nick. Can't do that."

She sat down next to him. Nick opened the package. It contained two Irish passports with entry stamps for the Czech Republic, two SIG Sauer P229 pistols chambered for .40 S&W, holsters and four loaded magazines. A box contained things they'd need if they had to use the Irish passports.

Nick had never liked the Glocks that the others carried. They were great when they worked, light, easy to carry. But they had a tendency to jam at awkward moments. Looking at the Sig, he made up his mind to talk with Harker about switching everyone over when they got back.

He picked up one of the pistols and inserted a magazine. He racked the slide, and let it go forward. He pushed the decocking lever down with his left thumb and put the gun in a holster. Selena did the same with hers. The pistol was safe with a round in the chamber. Pull the trigger and you were in business.

"Nothing like a gift from home," he said.

"What's our plan?"

"It's too late to do anything today except find someplace to eat dinner. We need sleep. Tomorrow we'll go to that cafe."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Morel placed the syringe back in his briefcase and closed it. Foxworth rolled down his sleeve and fastened a gold and diamond cuff link. The drug moved through his system, the pain receded. He didn't know what Morel had given him. He didn't care, as long as it handled the pain. The headaches were getting more frequent. But Doctor Morel made them go away and that was what mattered.

Foxworth smiled. "Thank you, Ernst."

Morel tried not to show his surprise. He couldn't remember Foxworth ever expressing gratitude or calling him by his first name. It was a symptom as disturbing as the fits of rage or cold anger. His patient stood and walked to the windows. Morel waited.

"A new day is coming," Foxworth said. "A day that will bring order to the chaos out there." He swept his arm across the view of London. "It will be difficult for them, of course. But in the end, they'll find their place. History will thank me."

"You're a visionary, Malcolm."

"Yes." He turned toward Morel. "We're going to Tuscany tomorrow. A car will pick you up in the morning. Mandy has your tickets."

"As you say, Malcolm." Morel dipped his head and left the room.

Foxworth watched him leave, then picked up his encrypted phone and placed a call to Moscow. He wanted an update from Ogorov

Anatoloy Ogarov's advice shaped Russia's foreign policy. The Russian President was unaware that the advice came from Foxworth.

Ogorov answered. "Malcolm. I planned to call you later today."

"We are on schedule?"

"We are. The first test is tomorrow. I trust Yuri. I am confident." Ogorov paused. "What happened, Malcolm? Why is Rice still alive?"

"Some idiot left a cable across the stage. Rice tripped over it just as our man fired. We won't get another chance anytime soon."

The drug was working. Foxworth felt only mild concern. "It doesn't matter. Just an unfortunate turn."

"Yes." Another pause. "Malcolm, some of the others are nervous. These last attempts to eliminate problems haven't worked out well."

Drug or not, Foxworth felt the anger begin. By others, Ogorov meant the leadership of AEON. Foxworth led and set the direction of the group. It wasn't a democracy, but his position depended on consensus by the others. Even he was not secure. Results were what mattered.

"Which others?" Foxworth had to trust someone. Ogorov was his strongest supporter in the leadership circle.

"Silva is one."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Maupassant is unhappy."

"When they see the results in November, dissent will cease. If it does not..."

He left the rest unspoken.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Prague was everything the tourist brochures raved about. Selena and Nick strolled over the stones of Old Town Square in the heart of the medieval city. It was vacation month in Europe. The day was pleasant, with temperatures in the 70s. The square was jammed with tourists from every part of the Continent. They were just two more foreigners, taking pictures of everything, especially the clock on the old town city hall.

Prague's astronomical clock dated to 1410. Two large dials showed the position of the sun and moon and a calendar of months. The clock began striking the hour as they watched. Carved statues of the twelve Apostles came out on top and glided in procession from one side to the other. A skeletal figure of Death tolled out the time.

Nick watched Death hammering the bell. "Imagine what it must have been like back then, looking at that."

"The whole city is a time warp." Selena had been reading the brochures. "There's a street up by the castle called Golden Lane, the street of Alchemists. Tiny little houses built against the castle wall for the King's retainers."

Hradčany castle was the largest castle in the world. It dominated a hill overlooking the city on the other side of the Vltava river.

"Maybe we'll check it out later. Let's find that cafe."

The cobbled streets running off the square were narrow and old and had the feel of the middle ages. It was easy to imagine them filled with carts and horses and merchants centuries before. Now they were lined with modern shops and crowded cafes. Nick would have liked to browse the shops, sit in a cafe and watch people pass by. He doubted it would happen.

Caution was a habit. He checked for tails as they walked. Nothing stood out but something didn't feel right.

The cyber cafe was on a narrow side street. The decor was European punk. It looked like a second rate nightclub, black and chrome and plastic with neon highlights. The theme seemed to be somewhere between disco and heavy metal. Two dozen monitors and keyboards were lined up in a row on a counter. Chrome stools that might have come from a 50s diner in America were bolted to the floor in front of each monitor. They had swivel seats covered in red vinyl. Most of them were taken. A sign on the wall announced that computer time could be rented for 50 Korunas an hour. Nick did the calculation. About $2.50.

Across from the computer wall, a gleaming four piston espresso machine took up the short end of an L-shaped counter. A coffee bar displayed assorted pastries and sandwiches. A blackboard on the wall listed the specials of the day in colored chalk.

The cafe was crowded. About thirty tables took up the floor space. Someone got up from a table by the window and left. Nick and Selena walked over and sat down. In a minute a waitress came to the table.

She was young and almost pretty. She wore knock-off Levis and a black shirt. Her long black hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She had dark blue eyes. A short white apron was tied round her waist.

She said something in Czech. Selena understood but this wasn't the place to show off her knowledge of the language.

"I'm sorry. Do you speak English?" Selena took out a travel dictionary of English and Czech phrases, thumbed through it, pointed at a line that read "I would like a coffee and pastry, please." It was right below "Please, which way is the toilet?" and "Excuse me, I am a visitor in your country."

No shit, a visitor. Like anyone would think they were locals. Not on this trip.

"You are American?" the waitress said in English. Her accent wasn't bad.

"No, Canadian."

"We're from Vancouver, " Nick said, smiling.

"I have cousin in America, in Seattle. He has been to Vancouver."

"Can I take your picture?" Nick asked. The perfect tourist.

"Sure." The girl struck a pose, hand on hip and smiled. One of her teeth was missing, which somewhat spoiled the effect. Nick pointed the camera. Beyond the waitress, most of the cafe was visible. He took her picture, another, moved the camera slightly, took two more. He showed her the picture.

"Very nice, see?"

The man behind the counter yelled something at her.

"Okay, I bring you coffee." She moved away.

"I got most of the cafe." He raised the camera and took two shots of the computer wall, one of the men behind the counter. Someone scowled at him.

"Sorry." He waved and set the camera down.

"Someone's watching," she said.

The waitress reappeared, set down two small steaming cups of thick, black coffee and two sticky buns and went away.

"You mean the guy in the blue cap?"

"That's him. Second table to your right. Blue cap, mustache." She smiled.

Nick picked up his cup, blew on it. A man sitting in front of the monitors turned away. "I got him on camera. You're getting better. There's one more. By the computers. Suspenders, looks like a working guy. Stocky, black pants."

"'How did they know to follow us?"

"They weren't following us. They were already here."

"Waiting for us to show up."

"Looks like it. Eat some of your pasty. Laugh a little. We're going to have to do something about them." He grinned.

She laughed. A happy tourist. "You're such fun on a trip. What next?"

"We finish our coffee, pay our check and go sightseeing. They'll follow. If there are two, there may be more. They don't know we've made them. We'll let them make the play."

When Nick rose from his chair a jolt of pain took his breath away. He winced.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Fine. Let's sightsee."