Читать книгу The Perestroika Effect - Cecilia Tanner - Страница 11

Katya was mildly surprised that this new man on the job would know about her itinerary for assessment of the safety conditions in the plant.

"Yes, mainly. I also have to inspect the service tunnels and the plutonium storage vault," she confirmed.

"Well, I must not keep you,” Sergey waved a hand as he walked into the waiting elevator cab.

"Oh, Colonel," called Katya before the door closed. He held the door open. "That reminds me. Could I have an upgraded pass card to access the security doors of my Phase Two work? As it is now, I have to ask for a security escort to open the doors I want. That was all right during my initial survey, but this next phase requires a lot of running in and out, and I would like the freedom to come and go more efficiently. Would you have that authorized for me?"

"Of course. Come up to the Security Control Centre when you finish your measurements. I will order a new access card for you.”

"Thanks, Colonel," called Katya as she turned and walked briskly away toward an exit door at the other end of the foyer.

“Call me on the elevator intercom when you are ready to come up," he offered.

Sergey continued to hold the elevator door open while he watched her stride toward the security door, scientific instrument in one hand and clipboard in the other. So this was Katya Bodnarchuk, the new engineer that Yuri was interested in for Sergey’s benefit. She had gained the reputation of being frigid and unresponsive to the attentions of the men in the plant, and she had left no doubt about the way she felt when it came to the innuendoes and propositions sent her way.

As he watched her retreat, Sergey noticed, with more interest than he cared to admit, that the cut of her charcoal gray pants and tunic did not hide the shape of her waist and hips, or the slight rhythmic sway of those hips as she walked off.

She dropped her clipboard as she fumbled to swipe her pass card in the reader. When she stooped over to retrieve it, her tunic rode up and there, in the waistband at the small of her back, was a handgun.

“Whao, what is that?” Sergey thought almost out loud. What was she doing carrying a personal weapon around in this restricted area?

Sergey's eyes narrowed and he quickly punched his access code into the elevator control panel to shut the doors and start the cab moving up to the third floor. His orders strictly prohibited possession and carrying of arms within the plant by any of the labor force or even the enlisted security staff. Only Sergey, the Security Crew Chief, and the gate guards were permitted to carry side arms or loaded rifles while on duty.

At two separate locations, secure weapons rooms were stocked with guns, ammunition, grenades, and even some obsolete rocket launchers left over from the Soviet glory days. Only Sergey, or someone authorized by him could get into these rooms.

His train of thought was interrupted by the bump of the elevator stopping at the 3rd floor. The doors slid open and he looked around the dimly lit Security Control Centre. Task lighting over the console and the report desk illuminated the equipment and metering panels to make for efficient and easy operation while keeping the screens of the television monitors free of glare. The muted lighting reduced eye strain.

A middle-aged man, going soft in the middle, was slouching in a chair at a long, curved console. He straightened as Sergey stepped out of the elevator then leaned over, tapped one of the dials on the console and made a note on his pad. He looked up, stood up, and called heartily, "Colonel!" At three paces, Sergey could smell the garlic sausage on the man’s breath.

Sergey noted the forced heartiness of the man and replied "Hello, Elovach. Is everything in order?"

Elovach Bechinkov appeared to be a reasonably competent operator and administrator who, it seemed, had the annoying habit of fawning over his superiors and ingratiating himself to them. Yuri had the impression that the man was lazy and inattentive to his work, except in the presence of authority and had told Sergey as much. He covered up his mistakes and forgotten tasks with an image of bustling efficiency. But people can be many different people to other people, so there must always be a little space for explanations that can change one’s perspective.

Though there was a new political order in Russia, fathers were still rough on their sons, wives were dismissive of their husbands, kids didn’t trust their families, not even their parents, and no one trusted the government. It would take generations to change all that, and maybe it would never change, because it was not just the old USSR order but an aspect of much of the world order – and always had been. Survival of the fittest was an active ongoing challenge.

Elovach had become Acting Supervisor of the Security Control Centre upon his arrival only the week before Sergey had arrived. Now, with the help of two other shift workers, he operated the surveillance and operations centre. Their jobs were to keep an eye on the video cameras throughout the plant, issue access passes authorized by the Plant Director, and keep daily logs of reactor operating conditions.

In front of Sergey, he tried to project the image of a man ready and waiting to take over the job of Director of Security - when Sergey moved on, of course. His attempts, however, were transparent and irritating.