The Cardinal of the Kremlin - Tom Clancy [26]
"You wish a new job assignment, Misha?" Yazov inquired slyly.
"Not that one!" Filitov laughed, then turned serious. "What I am trying to say, Dmitri Timofeyevich, is that the progress assessment we get from Bright Star is-how do I say this?-warped by the fact that we don't have a real military man on the scene. Someone who understands the vagaries of combat, someone who knows what a weapon is supposed to be."
The Defense Minister nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I see your point. They think in terms of 'instruments' rather thai 'weapons,' that is true. The complexity of the project concerns me."
"Just how many moving parts does this new assembly have?"
"I have no idea-thousands, I should think."
"An instrument does not become a weapon until it can be handled reliably by a private soldier-well, at least a senior lieutenant. Has anyone outside the project ever done a reliability assessment?" Filitov asked.
"No, not that I can recall."
Filitov picked up his tea. "There you are, Dmitri Timofeyevich. Don't you think that the Politburo will be interested in that? Until now, they have been willing to fund the experimental project, of course, but"-Filitov took a sip-"they are coming here to request funding to upgrade the site to operational status, and we have no independent assessment of the project."
"How would you suggest we get that assessment?"
"Obviously I cannot do it. I am too old, and too uneducated, but we have some bright new colonels in the Ministry, especially in the signals section. They are not combat officers, strictly speaking, but they are soldiers, and they are competent to look at these electronic marvels. It is only a suggestion." Filitov didn't press. He had planted the seed of an idea. Yazov was far easier to manipulate than Ustinov had ever been.
"And what of the problems at the Chelyabinsk tank works?" Yazov asked next.
Ortiz watched the Archer climbing the hill half a mile away. Two men and two camels. They probably wouldn't be mistaken for a guerrilla force the way that twenty or so would have. Not that this had to matter, Ortiz knew, but the Soviets were to the point now that they attacked almost anything that moved. Vaya con Dios.
"I sure could use a beer," the Captain observed.
Ortiz turned. "Captain, the thing that allowed me to deal with these people effectively is that I live the way they do. I observe their laws and respect their ways. That means no booze, no pork; that means I don't fool with their women."
"Shit." The officer snorted. "These ignorant savages-" Ortiz cut him off.
"Captain, the next time I hear you say that, or even think it real loud, will be your last day here. These people are working for us. They're bringing us stuff that we can't get any place else. You will, repeat will treat them with the respect they deserve. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir." Christ, this guy's turned into a sand nigger himself.
3.
The Weary Red Fox
IT'S impressive-if you can figure out what they're doing." Jack yawned. He'd taken the same Air Force transport back to Andrews from Los Alamos, and was behind in his sleep again. For all the times this had happened to him, he'd never quite learned to deal with it. "That Gregory kid is smart as hell. He took about two seconds to identify the Bach installation, practically word for word with the NPIC assessment." The difference was that the photointerpreters at the National Photographic Intelligence Center had taken four months and three written report to get it right.
"You think he belongs in the assessment team?"
"Sir, that's like asking if you want to have surgeons in the operating room. Oh, by the way, he wants us to infiltrate somebody into Bach." Ryan rolled his eyes. Admiral Greer nearly dropped his cup. "That kid must watch ninja movies."
"It is nice to know that somebody believes in us." Jack chuckled, then turned serious. "Anyway, Gregory wants know if they've made a breakthrough in laser power output-excuse me, I think the new term is 'throughput.' He suspects that