The Moscow Orders A thriller novel

Moscow KGB Agent Alexander Lazlo works for the Russian Government in the modern, 21st century Russia, where International Relations across Europe is at a all-time low. When a fellow Agent is killed, he is forced to find out who the assassin is before it's too late.

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1. The Moscow Orders-Part One

***

​Moscow, Russia

​Thursday, March 1, 2018

5:30 AM.

 

​KGB Agent ​Alexander Lazlo stared out of the Government Building glass window. He drank his strong coffee, as the first signs of heavy snow fell on the harsh ground. The grey double doors opened. A tall KGB Agent smiled at him. "Good morning, Alexander. It's a freezing day", Oleg Scholl said. "Good morning. Where's Gregory?", he asked him. "He's dead. He died from a heart attack at home. He was thirty-eight year's old", he answered him with a serious look on his cold, Russian, face. "That's horrible. He was a great officer". Oleg nodded. Both agents were wearing grey hats, black gloves on their hands, and black boots on their feet. Alexander sipped more of his coffee. He saw soldiers marching along Red Square. By six o'clock, the first rays of bright sun shone on the windows. Alexander shook his head. Suddenly he heard the sound of the door knocking twice. "Come in!", he yelled. The door opened and a KGB female agent saluted. "The Moscow Orders have been released, Alexander", Petra Olsen said. He gazed at her. "What kind of orders? I wasn't aware...", he stated. He shook his head, as the snow begun to fall more heavily in Moscow. "Victor Kress, the Head of the KGB, has warned everyone about the secretive order. It's TOP SECRET in a E-file", Petra said. Alexander finished drinking. "Can it be de-coded?". She shook her head. "No", she said. He shivered. "That's too bad. If it falls into the wrong hands, Russian Intelligence could be compromised". He threw the coffee mug into a rubbish bin. Then he continued watching the snow, and dreamed of a future that was as dire as the news that his wife, Edna, had died of cancer three year's ago, when she was only twenty-nine.

***

Alexander shook his head.

"If there's an assassin in Moscow, I'll find him". He stared at Oleg, and Petra. "How can you do that?", Oleg asked him. "I'll use my brains, yes", Alexander answered. He grinned, then he focused his energy on the snow that had continued to fall all over Russia.

***

Victor Kress sat in his black, leather, chair. He was fifty-seven, married, and had six children. "So, Alexander, you've heard the bad news about the death?", he asked him. "Yes, Victor. Gregory Scholl was a good KGB Agent. He died without selling out his country". He shook his head. "True. And now there's an assassin on the loose. Can you find him?". "Or her". He waited for Victor's response. "Yes, a woman will be harder to arrest". Victor nodded. "You can leave me now. I want a full report tomorrow by six o'clock in the evening. Good bye!". And Victor saluted, then opened the door, and walked out onto the busy road towards his office.

***

The assassin gripped the knife in her right hand. She gazed at the front building near Red Square. She wore a grey coat to keep her warm. The snow continued to fall. Suddenly she saw a soldier was smoking a cigarette. Before she could do anything, he stopped. "What do you want?", he asked her. "Nothing", she answered. Then she broke his neck with her hands. The body thudded to the hard ground. When she waited for the other soldiers to arrive, she fled the area, and reached the hotel near the Kremlin. She breathed faster and faster. Once she relaxed, she saw a Russian doorman smile at her. She let herself inside. Then she dragged her luggage up the red carpet, and saw a middle-aged woman who was working in the Reception Area. "Can I help you, Miss?", she asked. "Yes, I'd like a room for the evening. How much is it for a night?". "Eighty rubles". The assassin took out a hundred dollar bill. "Thank you. Your room number is 432b. That includes meals and drinks". "Thank you". And she smiled, as she grabbed her key, and headed upstairs to her room. She opened it, and placed her luggage underneath her bed. She scanned the blue curtains, bathroom, and windows. On the creamy walls was a high-definition cable television with remote control on a brown desk. A small closet was to the left. To the right was a small table and chairs for eating dinner. Satisfied there wasn't any bugs in the room, the assassin opened the door. She then headed towards the Dining Room, and met the other guests there.

***

Alexander sat down on one of the chairs. When he saw the assassin, he was amazed by her beauty. "Good evening. I'm Alexander". She grinned. "Danielle. I live in Moscow". He smiled. "Do you work?", Alexander asked her. "Yes, I go from job to job", she answered. Alexander frowned. "I see there's no wedding ring...". Danielle shook her head. "Boris, my ex-husband, left me at the altar five year's ago. He was afraid of commitment". He nodded. "I'm single. Oleg and Petra work for the Government; I do too. It's classified". She smiled. "Yes, everything is. I work for myself on contracts. It's hard work. Would you like to see the menu?". Alexander nodded. It was unusual for him to dine with a stranger. A waitress came around. "I'll have the steak with mushroom sauce. And vodka please". Danielle grinned. "And I'll have the same". 

***

Victor Kress stared at the file in the KGB Office.

​File Name: Danielle Anderson.

​Age: 29.

​Born: 3/4/1999.

​Marital Status: Married; now single.

​Parents: Unknown.

​Job: Assassin.

​Whereabouts: Somewhere in Moscow, Russia.

​End result: Wanted for murder. 

 

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