CHAPTER NINETEEN

Moscow, Russia

1145 hours.

26th April.

Seated in the opulent sanctuary of his office, Oleg, found himself immersed in profound contemplation. Despite the exquisite collection of antiques that adorned the room, his mind remained consumed with thoughts of the elusive Strauss and his mysterious agenda.

The icy gaze of Stalin immortalized through a meticulously sculpted bust, bore down upon him, sending shivers down his spine. Positioned strategically on the wall, directly across from his colossal table adorned with towering stacks of documents, a vintage telephone, and a state-of-the-art personal computer, the presence of the dictator's stern visage was impossible to ignore.

Glimmers of sunlight danced their way through the slits of the Venetian blind, cascading into the room like ethereal ribbons. Accompanying this gentle illumination, a tender breeze drifted in through the window, carrying with it the scent of an impending monsoon, its arrival a mere whisper in the wind, weeks away fro
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