Tom Clancy's op-centre_ mirror image - Tom Clancy [4]
Dogin looked at the General. Dhaka's full cheeks were flushed, his pendulous chin raw where it met his tightly knotted tie. The Minister knew that the specifics would send most of them rallying behind Mavik or even running to Zhanin.
He looked at each of the men in turn. In most faces he saw conviction and strength, while in others-- Mavik and Grovlev in particular-- he saw interest but wariness. Their hesitation angered him because he was the only one who offered Russia salvation. Yet he remained calm.
"You want specifics?" Dogin asked. He typed a command on the computer keyboard then swung the monitor so it faced the seven men. As the hard disk hummed, the Interior Minister looked at his father's picture. The elder Dogin had been a decorated soldier during the War, and one of Stalin's most trusted bodyguards afterward. He once told his son that during the War he had learned to carry only one thing with him: the country's flag. Wherever he was, in any circumstance, in any danger, it would always find him a friend or ally.
When the disk drive fell silent, Dogin and five men rose at once. Mavik and Grovlev exchanged suspicious looks, then slowly got to their feet. Both men saluted.
"This is how I plan to rebuild Russia," Dogin said. He came around the desk and pointed to the image that filled the computer monitor, a yellow star, hammer, and sickle on a red field-- the old Soviet flag. "By reminding people of their duty. Patriots will not hesitate to do whatever is necessary, whatever the plan and regardless of the cost."
The men sat down, save for Grovlev.
"We're all patriots," said the Finance Minister, "and I resent the theatrics. If I'm to put my resources in your hands, I want to know how they'll be used. For a coup? A second revolution? Or don't you trust us with this information, Mr. Minister?"
Dogin looked at Grovlev. He couldn't tell him everything. He couldn't tell him about his plans for the military or his involvement with the Russian mafia. Most Russians thought that they were still a provincial peasant people without a worldview. Upon hearing his plans, Grovlev might back down or decide to support Zhanin.
Dogin said, "Mr. Minister, I don't trust you."
Grovlev stiffened.
"And from your questions," Dogin continued, "it's obvious you don't trust me either. I intend to earn that trust through deeds, and you must do the same. Zhanin knows who his enemies are, and now he has the power of the presidency. He may offer you a post or an appointment you may be tempted to take. And you might then be required to work against me. For the next seventy-two hours, I must ask you to be patient."
"Why seventy-two hours?" asked the young, blue-eyed Ministry of Security Assistant Director Skule.
"That's how long it will take for my command center to become operational."
Skule froze. "Seventy-two hours? You can't mean St. Petersburg. "
Dogin nodded once.
"You control that?"
He nodded again.
Skule exhaled and the other men looked at him. "My most sincere compliments, Minister. That puts the entire world in your hands."
"Quite literally," Dogin grinned. "Just like General Secretary Stalin."
"Excuse me," said Grovlev, "but once again I'm on the outside looking in. Minister Dogin, what exactly is this 'thing' you control?"
"The St. Petersburg Operations Center," Dogin replied, "the most sophisticated reconnaissance and communications facility in Russia. With it, we can access everything from satellite views of the world to electronic communications. The Center also has its own field personnel for 'surgical strike' operations."
Grovlev seemed confused. "Are you talking about the television station at the Hermitage?"
"Yes," Dogin said. "It's a front, Minister Grovlev. Your ministry approved the finances for an operational facade, a working TV studio. But the money for the underground complex came from my department. And the funding continues to come from the Interior Ministry." Dogin