Cold War Fiction Novels & Stories

And it was amusing how his ears turned red as he gave me a vague shrug. “I mindlinked Noah to send stuff over.” “Oh,” I nodded. “So, why is that forbidden territory?” “You are not letting go of that, are you?” “No,” Asher sighed, then took a long sip of his beer. “Well, around thirty-four years ago, the Cold War took place at the exact same place,” I blinked, realization crawling upon me. Cold War…it was mentioned in that diary. “There was mention of it in one of those old books Cora gave me. But just a mention, because the pages that followed after, were all torn,” I said.

“No more vaults. No more red folders. If the house falls, we fall together. Just please… please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. In the quiet of the ruined library, beneath the shadow of a crumbling legacy, we shared a moment of true, tearful forgiveness. The “Cold War” didn’t end with a treaty; it ended with two broken people holding onto each other in the dark, realizing that the only foundation that mattered wasn’t made of stone. The peace lasted exactly three hours. At 7:00 AM, the library television, which had been flickering with static, suddenly hissed to life. It was a local news feed, broadcasting live from the steps of the Metropolitan Courthouse.

The air was frigid, smelling of rusted iron, stale nuclear fuel, and the copper tang of ancient blood. Below us lay a massive, black-water port, carved directly from the Arctic ice. And floating in that sepulchral darkness, like the fossilized ribs of forgotten gods, were three colossal, Typhoon-class nuclear submarines. These Cold War leviathans, once designed to end the world with fire, were now being used to end it with shadow. There were no Silver Order soldiers patrolling the gantries. No engineers rushing between the subs. The cavern was dead silent. Yet, the First Crown hummed a violent, screaming warning in my mind. The Void within me throbbed in synchronization with something malevo

Chapter 76: Traitor’s Price The satellite phone felt heavier than it ever had in Luca’s hand. It's cold metal pressed against his palm like a final link to the world he had grown up in—a world of coded calls, blood promises, and decisions that split a life into before and after. Around him, the night was shaking. The Château groaned under the weight of battle. Gunfire cracked inside like bones snapping. Furniture crashed. Men screamed. And over it all came the distant cry of Swiss sirens rising steadily, getting closer, circling the mountain like wolves that had caught a scent.

I felt the warmth of a lone tear escape my eye and leaving its trail all the way to my hairline as my eyes wavered and my eyelids closed when the last breath left my mouth. To be continued…. *Dear reader. If you have enjoyed reading The cold one - part 1, feel free to leave a review or rating with your thoughts, and thank you for choosing to read my book. Be sure to find out what happens in The cold one’s part 2 - The hunters rise.

if you are willing to kill enough people and you have. "Iskender, where are you going to get the army to move in once the Chinese take your kick to the testicles?" He liked that analogy. "We've been stockpiling gear since before the end of the Cold War," he blithely revealed to me. I had no doubt that the permission to give me this information came all the way from the top, but why? I'd let Pamela and Katrina figure that one out. They were smarter than me. "You would be surprised what the Soviets misplaced.

“It’s not a depressing book about nuclear war, is it?” “Actually no!” he replied cheerfully. “It involves a third world war, but it’s fought exclusively with conventional weapons, rather than nuclear bombs.” “So regular blown-up bodies, not radioactive bodies,” I said dryly. “Much better.” “Trust me, you won’t be able to put this book down. It’s my comfort novel. I re-read it every year or two.” “Okay, I’m in,” I said. “I’m glad you chose that, because I’ve seen the Hunt for Red October movie, and I didn’t think it was great.”

But I wasn’t panicking, not really because I hadn’t lost. Not yet. I lay on the narrow cot, arms folded beneath my head, staring at the ceiling. The truth serum had worked—sort of. I’d spoken but not everything I said was real. They thought they had the truth. That was the key. Because in war, perception was just as powerful as reality.

“Don’t get me wrong I do but I’m worried. You are always indoors. You are growing up and you need to get out there, enjoy the world.” “I’m enjoying my world.” “What is your book all about?” “Crime fiction.” “Am I supposed to know about that?” “Ah dad. Where do I even start from?” Her father looked at her. “Ok just know that it’s about the most notorious family in Zambia.” “Notorious?” “Yes. The family is the most feared in the country. No one crosses their path. Whoever does, gets killed. On top of that, they have connections everywhere. The police cannot touch them. No one touches them.”

Four large men wearing dark tactical gear stepped out of the vehicles and planted their boots firmly onto the ground. They did not retreat. They raised their automatic rifles simultaneously and aimed the long barrels directly toward our specific storage unit. The cold war had completely failed. Svetlana's voice finally whispered through the small speaker of the burner phone, and her words carried a chilling, absolute certainty. "You are bluffing, Kade," Svetlana declared quietly. "You would never hand those files over to the federal government because an extensive investigation will inevitably expose your own illegal operations in Chicago. You will not pull that trigger, and you will not ris