Читать книгу The Perestroika Effect - Cecilia Tanner - Страница 8

Sergey drove into the plant parking lot for the meeting he had setup with the head of internal plant security, Zonda Pavlovich Glazan. Sergey ushered Zonda into his office. Zonda was a tall wiry man who didn’t smile readily, but he took Sergey’s hand willingly enough and gave him a strong handshake. He had temporarily taken charge after the sudden death of the Plant Director, Anatoly Tarasov.

Zonda briefed Sergey about the Director’s death. “Tarasov’s car and all his personal effects are locked up securely, pending investigation by the Zhigansk police. Right away I wrote up what I knew. You have it, right?”

“I do, thanks. Do you have the key, Zonda?”

“The key?”

“For Tarasov’s car.”

“Oh, right,” and he fumbled around with the keyring on his belt. Sergey wondered if Zonda was nervous since he didn’t make the key connection right away.

“Good, I’ll take a look at the car.”

Surprisingly, Zonda handed over the key, almost with relief. He had known Tarasov to be a good director, and, in the small community, the Director had a good reputation. His death left most of the town spooked, and Zonda did not want the responsibility of keeping the dead man’s belongings safe longer than necessary.

Did Zonda have anything to do with Tarasov’s death? He had had a week’s access to much of the Director’s information before Sergey arrived.

When Zonda left, Sergey reread Zonda’s report that he had only skimmed after he arrived. It helped to read the words when you could put a face to the person who wrote the words. Maybe Sergey had arrived too late. The report indicated that the evidence in Director Tarasov's possessions pointed to him as one planning to commit some disruptive act at the plant. Was the man working alone, however?

Sergey found Tarasov’s car in the containment area behind the administration building. Opening the door to the closed car released a miasma of foul air that knocked Sergey back on his heels. Death and a pungent smell – a horse liniment maybe. Whatever it was, the combination was overwhelming. He opened all the car doors and windows. The front seat was stained with Tarasov’s blood, and the windshield and dashboard was splattered with the brown stains as well. He checked every door panel, and the side walls of the trunk finding two extra pass cards and a box of computer disks for the master computer hidden in the trunk, along with a kilogram of high explosives and some detonation caps. It appeared that he had intended to steal the master program for controlling the nuclear reactor; a valuable commodity on the black market. If the damning evidence was indeed as damning as it appeared, the Director may have been discovered or he had simply lost his nerve; either one could have been enough, maybe, to make a man take his own life. The search turned up a ring of keys under the driver's seat. They had fallen or been thrown into the seat adjustment track and were all but invisible.

Comparing the story with the evidence he had discovered, he doubted that the Plant Director was the right man or the only man that he was after. It is too easy: the evidence too obvious. He had to entertain the idea that Tarasov may have been framed. And that meant that the saboteur was still in the plant, biding his time and waiting for the right opportunity to execute his mission.

To deceive his prey, should he be watching, and lull him into a false sense of safety, Sergey went back to his office and drew up plans to revamp the lax security measures at the nuclear plant. Yuri meanwhile was sorting out the personal lives of the employees; who was in debt and who was holding grudges. Sergey was starting to feel that he was getting a handle on the situation.

The elevator cab clanked to a stop and after a pause, the doors slid aside. A woman stepped out and was momentarily startled when she saw Sergey standing there.