Tom Clancy's op-centre_ mirror image - Tom Clancy [81]
"My little ptitsa," Rossky said, "my precious bird. How is your visit with your karol?" He used a nickname, "king," so a listener wouldn't be able to check on anyone's identity.
"Very well," she said. "Sorry to call so late, but I've been busy. The weather couldn't be better for sightseeing."
"Good," said Rossky.
"I'm out with the dog now, in fact. Karol went to the airport with two friends, but I didn't want to go. I decided to take a bicycle ride to the harbor instead."
"You thought you might end up there," Rossky said. "Is it nice?"
"Very," said Valya. "I watched two people getting ready for a trip on the gulf."
She'd said "on" the gulf and not "in" it, Orlov noted. That was significant. They were traveling on the surface and not by submarine.
"They're going to sea in the dark?" Rossky asked.
'Yes," said Valya. "A curious time to travel, but they are in a very fast boat and seem to know what they're doing. Besides, Uncle, I suspect they want to watch the sunrise from somewhere beautiful. A man and a woman-- very romantic, don't you think?"
"Quite," Rossky said. "Precious, I don't want you out so late-- why don't you go home and we'll talk tomorrow."
"I will," she said. "Have a good night."
A pensive Orlov handed the earphones back to the operator and thanked him while Rossky doffed his own set. The Colonel's expression was tense as he followed the General to his office. Though the message could be read by anyone in the command center, Orlov didn't want their options discussed openly. Moles could be anywhere.
"They are audacious," Rossky said angrily when the door was shut, "coming in by boat."
"It's our fault for not taking the Finns more seriously," Orlov said, sitting on the edge of his desk. "The question is, do we want these two to come in or stop them in the gulf?"
"Set foot on Russia?" Rossky said. "Never. We watch them by satellite and stop them the moment they enter Russian waters." He was staring past Orlov as though he were thinking aloud and not addressing a superior officer. "Standard operating procedure would be to drop mines from fishing boats, but I wouldn't want to tweak Minister Niskanen's nose so openly. No," he went on, "I'll have the Navy send the radio-controlled mini-sub from the Sea Terminal on Gogland Island. A collision we report losses of our own, blame it on the Finns."
"Standard operating procedure," Orlov said. "But I repeat. What if we allow them to come in?"
Rossky's eyes returned to the General. They were no longer enthusiastic, but glazed with anger. "General, may I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Is it your intention, sir, to stop me at every turn?"
"Yes," Orlov admitted, "where your tactics and ideas run counter to the mandate of this Center. Our mission is to gather intelligence. Killing these two operatives and crippling Niskanen's ability to send in other enemies doesn't do that. More agents will follow these two, if not from Finland then perhaps through Turkey or Poland. How thin can we spread our resources tracking them? Wouldn't it be better to know more about how they operate and to try and get them to work for us?"
While Orlov spoke, Rossky's expression had shaded from annoyance to anger. When the General was finished, his deputy hooked back a sleeve and looked at his watch. "The agents apparently hope to arrive before sunup, which will be in a little over four hours. You'd best give me your decision very soon."
"I need to know what resources you can spare to watch them," Orlov said as his phone beeped, "and whether the man Pogodin caught in Moscow can help us." He reached behind himself and put the phone on speaker in an effort to mollify Rossky. If the Colonel was grateful, he didn't show it. "Yes?" Orlov said.
"Sir, it's Zilash. Nearly ninety minutes ago, we picked up a rather odd communication from Washington."
"In what way odd?" Orlov asked.
"It was a heavily scrambled message