The Cold Game

Chapter 1

A tall, stocky figure strode down the aisle of an office. People flung themselves out of his way as he headed in a straight line for a door at the end of the aisle.
When he burst through the door, he was met by a scrawny, pale man with Horn-rimmed glasses, holding a stack of papers.
"Excuse me?" Said the pale man
"Comrade Pavlosky ?" Replied the tall figure
"Indeed, but I must-"
"Silence, I have something here that may interest you"
Pavlosky  looked at the paper that was thrust into his hand
"Oh my" He looked at the paper, stunned.
"I trust" Said the tall man "this can be given to the right people"
"On my honour," Replied Pavlosky
"Thank you, comrade, I apologise for my bursting in on your..." He looked at the pile of papers, most of which contained pictures of Western celebrities in little clothes "...business" he said, sarcastically "Do the right thing, and this needn't go futher, yes?"
"Yes, now please-"
"Very well, good day, comrade
"Good day"
Pavlosky started typing frantically on a fax machine as the tall figure left the room.

Jurgi Dzmitry, of apartment  3751 of C block moved along the main road with a heavy, worn coat on.
A man in red uniform strode past him in a confident manner, frantically, he rose his right arm to his side at a ninety-degree angle in a salute, the other man did not return this, or even look, but kept on him way.
Jurgi shuffled further along the road, trying to keep his hands away from the biting winds and snow that whipped the street. He turned right, to face a tall building that looked the same as most of the others, barring a large yellow Hammer on a red background held onto the side by steel support bars. 'Ministry of Labour' read a sign on the entrance.
Jurgi pushed open the heavy door and felt the warmth of the building on his body. Of course, this warmth was not much comfort, and Jurgi had his doubts the temperature reached more than 7°, which was part of the 'workers rights' act that had gone through the Ministry just a few days before, but there was no point in saying, he was sure it would be fixed. He also thought he recalled that the amendment had, in fact, lowered the minimum temperature, but there was no point in saying, he was sure it would be fixed; as said party law, section 5 "If there is a discrepancy, there is no need to speak out, the party will fix it" and, so, Jurgi did not.
He rose up the stairs, he thought he remembered an elevator once working, but again, remembered Section 5 and kept walking. He reached his office, it was on floor 7 of 25, and was labelled 'Department of Workers Laws' and was responsible for creating new laws for workers of the Supreme Leaders lands. Jurgi felt important as he strode in, the Leader himself had pulled his name out in the November Labour lottery a few years before, he hadn't actually seen the Leader do this, no one did, but the Ministry of News had said so, on order of the Leader himself, so it must be true.
Within the department of Workers laws, Jurgi had the job correcting the spelling on the laws as they came through his desk, he wasn't, of course, allowed to comment on the laws himself, that was for Senior Party Workers only, but Jurgi felt a sense of responsibility, think! He thought, think that by you making sure each law was perfect, he was ensuring that each person of the Leaders Lands were receiving the rights they deserved, and even more importantly, he was serving the Supreme Leader himself! The though of all of this pulled Jurgi's mind away from the freezing cold and dwindling rations he received every week, and towards his work.