The Tesla Secret Read online

  "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."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Zoran Jovanovich had been a company commander with the Scorpions at Srebrenica during the Bosnian War. The Scorpions were the infamous point of General Ratko Mladic's Serbian spear. Mladic had greatly admired Hitler's Nazi SS. Highly trained, ruthless, disciplined, the Scorpions were a cadre of ethnic fanatics who followed orders without question.

  Srebrenica was a name written in blood. At Srebrenica, Mladic's troops had murdered 8,000 Muslim men and male children and buried them in mass graves. Then they'd raped the women. Zoran and his unit had been enthusiastic participants in the events.

  Zoran was an assassin, what the West so quaintly called a "hit man". Over time he'd built a solid base of clients. In the criminal underworld he was called "The Scorpion", an acknowledgement of both his expertise and his wartime role.

  Prague wasn't the first time he'd worked for his present client. The first time had been in Belgrade, a few years back. The target had been an assistant curator at the Tesla Museum, a man with stolen papers his employer wanted. There had been other assignments since then from the same unknown source.

  Zoran watched the two Americans pretend to be tourists. His client had provided pictures and 100,000 American dollars as initial payment, with another 100,000 due upon completion. The operational details were left up to him. Zoran had been told the targets would come here, to the cafe. And there they were. It was good to deal with professionals. Good to have accurate intelligence.

  It wasn't any of his business why his employer wanted them killed. The woman was good looking, behind those stupid glasses. Maybe he and his partner would enjoy her before they killed them. He'd make the man watch. It would be like Srebrenica again, only just two instead of thousands.

  Zoran missed the old days.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Far to the east of Prague, Irtysh Air Force Base was a crumbling memorial to the passage of the Soviet empire, acres of concrete and decaying buildings that sprawled like a cancerous sore across the Western Siberian plain. Few remembered it or cared. They would have cared, if they had known what was happening there.

  A man in a white laboratory coat stood in front of a gigantic hanger and watched a black Kamov helicopter hover like an uncertain bird before settling onto the cracked tarmac. The rotors slowed and stopped. An officer in full uniform climbed out of the helicopter.

  General Sergei Kaminsky was one of the most powerful men in the Russian military. The stiff rank boards on his massive shoulders bore four gold stars. He was a bull of a man, with thick black eyebrows that matched the color of his eyes. He had a fleshy face. His mouth was set in a perpetual downward curve, as if he had never learned to smile.

  The man in the white coat who came forward to greet him was the pride of Russian physics. Yuri Malenkov was thin and tall. He walked with his head tilted slightly to the side, as if listening to something only he could hear. He had a large, bulging forehead and an IQ topping out somewhere near 200. That made him a genius. It also made it difficult for most people to understand what he was talking about.

  The physicist and the general shook hands. Kaminsky looked at the sky and took a deep breath of the clean air.

  "A beautiful day. One can breathe here, not like Moscow." He looked closely at the scientist. "Shall we proceed, Yuri?"

  "Yes, General. Please come with me."

  The doors of the hanger stood open at one end. The Tesla device was mounted on a platform halfway across the hanger floor. Heavy electrical cables ran across the floor from four enormous diesel generators. The cables ended in junctions at the base of four tall rods of copper. A metallic core wrapped in tightly coiled wire protruded like a cannon barrel between them, pointing out through the open hangar doors. The air inside the hanger smelled of diesel and ozone.

  Yuri led Kaminsky to a concrete bunker that had been built at the back of the hanger. Inside the bunker, tables stacked with electrical equipment took up most of the space. A half dozen technicians watched the instruments, waiting for the test to begin. All eyes turned to the two men as they entered.

  The general and the physicist went over to a large viewing window in the forward wall of the bunker.

  "What have you accomplished? Explain what I am looking at." Kaminsky eyed the odd structure in the middle of the hanger.

  "Tesla's design is limited by the technology of his time, but it would have worked even back them. It has been a challenge to build it."

  "You have overcome the obstacles?"

  "Most of them. What you see here is a test device only, based on Tesla's prototype design with adaptations for modern materials. The plans for the actual weapon are different. It will be much bigger and requires a different power source."

  "How does it work?" the general asked. Yuri had prepared himself with simple answers Kaminsky could understand.

  "It ionizes hydrogen atoms and strips them of their electrons."

  "Leaving sub-atomic particles?"

  Yuri nodded, pleased at Kaminsky's understanding.

  "Yes. Exactly. Stripping the electrons causes the creation of protons. The device accelerates the protons past a high voltage electrode and discharges them as a focused, high-energy particle beam. It travels at almost the speed of light in a straight line. The beam pulses continuously as long as power is applied. When it strikes the target it disrupts the atomic and molecular structure."

  "Why hasn't this been done before?"

  "We tried to develop such a weapon. The old Semipalatinsk-21 test site in Kazakhstan was used for the experiments. The Americans have been experimenting with particle beam weapons for years. The difficulty lies with the energy source and portability. We could not make the beam strong enough to prevent dispersion in the atmosphere, or make the weapon practical in size. Once I understood how Tesla's thinking worked, I was able to design a unit that overcomes some of these obstacles. Some remain."

  Kaminsky waited. Yuri continued.

  "The biggest problem is power. The beam requires more than 100 megawatts to reach targets in space. Tesla designed a revolutionary power source. It is almost complete, but we still lack a key element to boost it to sufficient lev
els. We are building ahead of ourselves. Until we have that element, we will not have the capability you desire."

  "What is missing?"

  "An amplifier, the key to reaching maximum power."

  "And this?" Kaminsky waved his hand at the odd-looking shape in the hanger. "What is the capability?"

  "With the test unit I anticipate a range of less than two kilometers before blooming."

  "Blooming?"

  "Blooming is when the beam disperses because of particles in the atmosphere. Dust, humidity, things like that. Once it blooms, it loses destructive force. Two kilometers is a great achievement, but as you can see, the device is not practical for battlefield conditions."

  "You don't know if it will work." There was a hint of warning in Kaminsky's voice.

  "General, you requested I notify you when the device was ready to demonstrate. I am confident it will work."

  Kaminsky smiled and patted Yuri on the shoulder. "So, let us see it work."

  "Begin, Sasha." Yuri spoke to his chief technician, hovering nearby.

  Sasha barked commands. Rows of lights on the boards changed from red to yellow to green. The ozone smell grew stronger.

  "We have to build up the charge," Yuri said. "Once we reach that point, power can be applied continuously."

  Kaminsky nodded. Electricity crackled and leapt from the tops of the copper rods like lightning and poured into the core. A blue haze formed around the Tesla device. It hummed, a deep, low vibration Kaminsky felt through the soles of his boots.

  "Ready," Sasha called.

  From their vantage point, Yuri and Kaminsky could see the target, a T-34 tank placed a kilometer away on the plain.

  "General," Yuri said, "just press that button under the window. The device has already been targeted."

  A large red button projected from a steel box mounted on the wall. The two men looked through the glass. Kaminsky pressed the button.

  A blinding beam of blue light ripped through the air. The tank vanished with a sound as if a god had clapped his hands together.

  Kaminsky stared open-mouthed at the spot where the tank had been, speechless. Even Yuri was surprised at the power he had unleashed.

  Kaminsky found his voice. "This was designed as a weapon?"

  "Yes. The American papers of the time called it a 'Death Ray'."

  "They were right," Kaminsky said. "Amazing. You have done well, Yuri."

  The physicist preened at the flattery.

  Kaminsky picked at his large nose. "We have a little less than three months. Will it be ready?"

  "Only if we can resolve the power amplification. Otherwise, no." He paused. "There is something that may help, but it's a long shot."

  "Go on."

  "There is a book, very old, in Portugal. The Spaniards found it during the conquest of the Yucatan. It's called the Mafra Codex. Tesla mentions it in his notes. I'm not sure why, but he thought it might help him refine the weapon. Get me the book."

  Kaminsky nodded. "It will be done. Once you have the power boost, will the weapon work?"

  "Given that condition, yes. We've had some difficulty with the aiming device. Since we can't test it with the real weapon yet, we're using lasers. I think we are past most of the problems. With a true amplifier in place, the range of the beam will be as good as infinite. Nothing will stop it."

  "And you can sustain the beam?"

  "Once the amplification problem is solved, I am confident we can. Perhaps only for a few minutes."

  "A few minutes is all we need," Kaminsky said.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Elizabeth and Stephanie watched the display from a photo comparison program running on the Crays downstairs. The program scanned a combined database from Interpol, NSA, DIA, Langley and the intelligence services of Israel, Britain, and the European Union. There were a lot of bad people in that database. The computers looked for a match to the pictures transmitted from Nick's camera.

  The program analyzed distinctive facial features and body posture. Eye shape, bone structure, ear lobes, the shape of the skull. The nose. Dimensions in a 3-D axis. Beards, clothes, hats, eyeglasses, contact lenses and makeup meant little to the computer. It could be fooled, but it wasn't easy.

  On the left of the monitor screen, the pictures from the cafe flickered and changed as the computer sorted and compared. On the right, facial images from the database blurred in rapid succession. The facial recognition program was one of the foundations of anti-terrorism. It required the kind of computing power only governments could afford.

  The pictures froze. MATCH appeared in bold red letters.

  "Bingo," Stephanie said. She tapped a key. The picture went full screen. Information about the subject popped up beneath it.

  "Well, well. Not a nice man," Elizabeth said. "Zoran Jovanovich. Captain in Mladic's Scorpions. Wanted for war crimes committed at Srebrenica in '95."

  They read the file in silence.

  "A real bastard," Stephanie said.

  "He's sitting a few tables away from Nick. I don't believe in coincidences. I wonder if he's got any friends with him?"

  "I'll narrow the search to Serbian nationals, war criminals. Associations with Mladic."

  Steph entered the commands. Images flooded the screen again. Within a minute there was another match.

  "Nikola Nikovich. Also at Srebrenica, a sergeant under Jovanovich. Wanted for war crimes. He personally executed over 200 male children under Jovanovich's orders. Wanted by Interpol for rape and murder."

  "What have Nick and Selena got themselves into?" Steph asked.

  "We'll have to let them sort it out." Elizabeth picked up her sat phone. "Time to make a call."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Prague in August was a pickpocket's dream. The crowds reminded Nick of a Tokyo subway at rush hour. They walked through the arch of the tower guarding the old town side of Charles Bridge.

  The bridge over the Vltava river had been built by Charles IV to link the city and Hradčany Castle. Construction had begun in 1357. It was 600 meters long, supported by massive arches and piers of stone. Statues of saints and kings lined the span on both sides.

  There were no vehicles allowed on the bridge. The roadway was packed with tourists and vendors and noisy with the chaotic babble of half a dozen languages. Kiosks sold food and crafts and souvenirs. High on the other side of the Vltava, the walls and towers of the castle loomed over everything.

  "Impressive." Selena looked up at the enormous building. "You want a castle, you can't beat that one. Blue Cap is behind with his friend."

  They stopped at a kiosk displaying 19th century prints of Prague and the surrounding countryside.

  "I don't like this crowd," Nick said. "If they want to hurt us, there's a lot of cover here. Confusion. No way to tell who's who."

  They began walking again, dodging a mime in white face and stripes who stepped in front of them. They kept to the middle of the broad avenue.

  "You think they want to kill us?"

  "Always assume the worst."

  "One of your rules."

  "It's a good one."

  "If the crowd works for them, it works for us, too."

  "There's that," he said.

  They were half way across. Nick's ear began itching. They stopped at a kiosk selling sunglasses lined up on a revolving rack with a mirror. Nick glanced in the mirror and saw Blue Cap moving up fast behind.

  "They're closing," he said. "Get ready. They'll have knives. They won't use guns here."

  His adrenaline started pumping. The crowd pressed around them. Blue Cap came up on the right. Nick thought block, elbow strike, leg sweep. He got ready. The man passed three feet away and kept on walking. Nick pulled himself back at the last second. He watched the cap disappear into the throng.

  Selena let out a long breath. "The other one is still back there. He's looking at postcards."

  "Maybe he wants to send one to his mother." Nick looked up at the castle.

  "Let's go to the ca
stle There are too many people here. They'll make a move later."

  Selena said, "We can see the Crown Jewels. There's a special exhibition on."

  "You want to see the Crown Jewels? Are we on vacation?"

  "You have a better idea? I like jewelry. Not on men, though. You'd look dumb wearing a crown."

  "King Nicholas. Has a good ring to it."

  Nick's phone rang.

  "Speaking of rings." He looked at Harker's ID on the display.

  "Nick, you're in bad company."

  "Hello to you, too, Director. What else is new?"

  "Get serious, if that's not too much trouble. Where are you?"

  "On the Charles Bridge. We've got two watchers on us. They knew we were coming and waiting for us in the cafe."

  "One in a blue cap, the other has suspenders?"

  "Yes."

  Elizabeth said, "The one in the blue cap is named Jovanovich. He commanded a company at Srebrenica during the Bosnian War. The one with suspenders was in his unit. They're both wanted for war crimes."

  Nick knew about Srebrenica.

  "Bad company. Like you said."

  "See if you can get them to tell you why they're after you."

  Nick said nothing.

  "We need to find out what's going on here. Why were they waiting? Who hired them? Whatever else you can get."

  "There are a lot of people around."

  "So get them somewhere that's not crowded."

  "Director..." She was gone.

  "Well?" Selena looked at him. Over his shoulder, she saw Suspenders still looking at postcards.

  Nick told her what Harker had said.

  "How do we find them?

  "We'll see them up there," he said. He nodded at the castle. "They'll find us."

  In the Old City behind them, Death tolled out the hour.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Stephanie walked into Elizabeth's office. Elizabeth took one look and couldn't help smiling.

  "Good news? You look like the proverbial cat."