Velikolepnyy Building, Coyden, Stratarin, 1400 hours, 01.01.18
Iosef Demenok was finally admitted to the Premier’s office. Under the circumstances, this wait was insufferable. This was important, for Rubashkin’s sake!
Cursing under his breath, he threw open the Premier’s door without bothering to knock. “Premier Starikov! There…”
He stopped himself quite suddenly. Hunched over a map on Starikov’s desk, muttering something about “yokels” and “vulpines”, was Minister of Defense Pyotr Dementyev. Beside him, the Premier stood looking over it, adding his own gestures and commentary. The two stopped suddenly and looked up as Demenok burst in. “Is there something that I can help you with, Procurator General?” Starikov asked, voice distinctly icier than usual. Dementyev took several steps back and sat in one of the available seats.
Demenok coughed awkwardly, then sat down in another vacant chair. “Actually, yes, sir. The fifth military installation in northern Stratarin this month has been attacked, with the vast majority of our men stationed there being slaughtered. This string of assaults can hardly be coincidental.”
Dementyev suppressed a grin, though the effort was still painfully noticeable. “We were just discussing that, Demenok. Goodness, your intelligence networks are slow.”
“It’s nothing about my intelligence networks that caused my delay, Minister,” Demenok nigh spat. “It’s everything to do with this… this bureaucra…”
“Careful, Procurator General,” Starikov cut in suddenly, his expression seeming to flash in annoyance.
“…yessir. Of course. sir. Regardless, I wanted to talk with you on coordinating local law enfor…”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the Minister of Defense commented. “Martial law has already been planned in several cities with somewhat prominent military bases. Your law enforcement is not required.” Dementyev had the nerve to chuckle. Chuckle! His own men were being slaughtered, and he chuckled because of some idiotic…
Demenok’s internal ranting ceased when he realized that he would be doing the exact same thing in Dementyev’s shoes. Still, it was extremely aggravating. Extremely.
Clearly, there was nothing to be said to this militarized piece of ocelot excrement. Demenok instead calmed his tone and focused on the Premier.
Sir, with all due respect, the military seems to be unable to protect its own assets out there. Perhaps you should allow law enforcement permission to guard and protect what the army cannot." He glanced at Dementyev, who had started to fidget. Good. “For Stratarin, of course.”
The Premier shook his head. “I have something different in mind for law enforcement, Procurator General. While there is room for improvement in the militarys response,” with this he gave Dementyev a cold glare, causing the minister to look out the window uncomfortably, “I instead need the STP and local law enforcement concentrating on stopping these attacks before they happen, by any means necessary.” His eyes glinted. “I leave the specifics to you.”
It wasn’t the political victory over the old fool Dementyev that Demenok was hoping for, but it was a start. “Of course, sir. I’ll get right on it.”
“Be sure that you do. Dismissed.”
Sharing an icy stare with Dementyev for a moment, Demenok left the room promptly afterward.