December 5, 1906
Alexei sat quietly inside the enclosed carriage as it rolled through the snow-covered streets of St. Petersburg, the steady rhythm of hooves echoing faintly against the whitewashed roads. Four strong horses pulled the carriage forward in perfect harmony.
His mother had vehemently opposed him traveling in such weather, but he had firmly and righteously stated that he intended to follow his schedule to instill discipline in himself. His words drew a proud look from his father, who backed him up immediately and without hesitation. Faced with that, his mother finally gave her consent, albeit begrudgingly.
He felt his acting skills had improved yet again after his recent exploits. To get his parents to approve the recommendations of his tutors, he feigned a lack of motivation and enthusiasm, presenting himself weary and uninspired. He stopped writing altogether and occasionally said that he lacked inspiration and ideas. It only took a few days, fortunately, as he got tired of acting whenever they were around. And now this, acting firmly and righteously. A chuckle almost leaked out from his already smirking lips.
Hmmm… If they still had an empire after the war, he would pioneer the boom of the entertainment industry in the country and create an award named after himself. Alexei Award? Alex Award? he thought amusedly. This time, however, he couldn't hold it in any longer and chuckled softly.
Sednev, seated beside him, shot his tsarevich a brief, puzzled glance before quickly schooling his expression back into neutrality and turning his gaze outside the window. Whatever his tsarevich was thinking had nothing to do with him, he reminded himself.
"Ahem…" Alexei faked a cough, straightened in his seat, and asked, partly to dispel the awkwardness he had created inside the carriage, "Are we there yet?"
Sednev feigning ignorance, replied respectfully. "Not yet, your highness." He then glanced at his pocket watch and added. "We're still ten minutes away from the office."
"Hm…" Alexei nodded, then looked outside the window and focused on his goals ahead.
This would be his fourth visit to the Okhrana office, and so far he hadn't gained any useful information yet. Most of his time there had been spent observing, absorbing, and trying to understand how the organization operated. Although what he learned wasn't substantial, he had at least grasped the fundamentals of how they gathered intelligence and structured their work.
At its core, the Okhrana functioned as a web rather than a single blade. Intelligence flowed upward from countless sources, paid informants embedded in political organizations, revolutionaries, factories, universities, salons, and even exile communities abroad. These reports were filtered by field officers, who assessed credibility before passing them on to analysts tasked with identifying patterns, connections, and emerging threats. Above them sat senior officials who coordinated operations across districts, deciding when surveillance escalated into arrests or infiltration. Each division operated with a degree of autonomy, like the St. Petersburg division or Moscow division, yet all of them ultimately answered to the central Okhrana, where he was going at the moment. While the central Okhrana itself reported directly to the ministry of interior and the Tsar himself. It was an organization built on secrecy and compartmentalization, efficient in theory, but dependent on trust in people who were, by design, untrustworthy in his opinion.
While informants provided access to circles like the revolutionaries, they also introduced corruption, false reporting, and personal vendettas into the system. A man paid for information would eventually learn how to shape the truth to suit his interests, exaggerating threats or fabricating dangers simply to remain useful. Worse still, loyalty bought with money was loyalty that could just as easily be sold to someone else.
Nonetheless, what he learned was just the surface level of their operation. They should have thought of something to counter these loopholes. After all, these people are not foolish enough to blindly trust every piece of information fed to them.
He needed to up his own game though. His minions and the Jackals were already prepared and eager for the conquest to the east. It was only his restraint that held them back. When they stirred up trouble in the slums to control it, he considered it a stroke of luck that they were not scrutinized or thoroughly investigated by the Politsiya or the Okhrana. This time, however, he needed to ensure that they would not be targeted by either force after they took over the area. He could not afford to stand against the government yet, and he had no intention of doing so in the future. On the contrary, he wanted them to work together. He just didn't know how to go about it yet.
"We have arrived, your highness." Sednev informed him, cutting through Alexei's thoughts as the carriage came to a gradual halt.
Before Sednev could move, the door was opened from the outside. Cold air rushed in immediately, carrying with it the sharp scent of winter.
"Your highness, we have arrived," Nagorny spoke from beside the carriage door.
Sednev shook his head at that while Alexei chuckled lightly before stepping down the carriage, his boots crunching softly against the frost-dusted stone. He walked directly towards the open door of the building where a man was already waiting for him.
"Your Highness," the officer saluted. "Welcome back."
"At ease, Lieutenant Sokolov," Alexei replied, offering a polite nod. "I trust I'm not that early."
"Not at all, Your Highness," Sokolov said smoothly. "The director has been informed of your arrival. I've been instructed to accommodate you as usual."
Alexei looked inside the building and saw people already busy with their work. He didn't bother with the pleasantries then and gestured inside. "Shall we?"
Sokolov nodded at once. "Of course, Your Highness. Please, follow me."
As they walked, Sokolov continued in a measured tone. "The director has arranged for you to observe and assist with some minor tasks in the Records Department today, Your Highness, so that you may familiarize yourself with its operations before being assigned to another department. It's where all information comes to rest after it's been gathered; surveillance reports, intercepted correspondence, informant testimonies, and arrest summaries. Everything is cataloged there, cross-referenced, and archived."
Finally, Alexei celebrated inwardly. He had been pondering how to request access to the reports without appearing eager or suspicious, but it seemed his plans would not be needed after all. The subtle coaxing he had done with his father, complaining about how idle and bored he was because no one gave him any real work, had actually paid off.
Keeping his expression carefully neutral, he replied, "Hmm… then please convey my thanks to the director, Lieutenant Sokolov."
"I…. I will be sure to deliver your message, Your Highness," Sokolov said, hesitating for a fraction of a second before adding cautiously, "To be honest, there isn't much excitement in the Records department. It's mostly paperwork and storage rooms gathering dust. Many of my colleagues dislike being assigned there as it lacks visibility and offers little opportunity for promotion."
"Including you, I suppose, Lieutenant," Alexei said with a faint smirk. He was never overly strict about protocol or hierarchy outside of formal occasions. It never hurts to appear approachable. Officers and acquaintances were far more willing to share information and gossip when they felt familiar with him, just as the Lieutenant was now.
Sokolov returned the smile, a hint of embarrassment flickering across his face.
Alexei chose not to point it out and instead refocused on their path.
They turned down a narrower corridor, the sounds of footsteps and murmured voices gradually fading as they moved deeper into the building. The air grew cooler, tinged with the dry scent of old paper and ink. When they reached a set of heavy iron doors, Sokolov pushed one open.
Inside, long rows of shelves stretched across the room, stacked with neatly labeled folders and bound ledgers. Clerks sat at broad desks beneath shaded lamps, quietly sorting documents, copying entries, and updating indexes by hand. The atmosphere was subdued yet meticulous, every movement of the people inside was deliberate and careful.
"This is the Records Department, Your Highness," Sokolov said softly. "Nothing here looks impressive at first glance, but nearly every secret the Okhrana has ever uncovered passes through these rooms."
Alexei's gaze swept over the shelves, his interest unmistakable. But it faded as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the most neutral expression he could muster as his eyes shifted to the people in the room. They had stopped working and were now staring at him, their gazes filled with curiosity and puzzlement.
"Ahem…" Sokolov, noticing the awkward attention, cleared his throat and clapped twice. "Everyone."
At once, the clerks and officers straightened and stood at attention. Sokolov continued, his tone firm but measured. "I'm sure each and every one of you has heard that the Tsarevich is currently undergoing his training here at the Okhrana once a week. Well, consider this good news. The Tsarevich has been assigned to this department by the director for the time being. You will have the opportunity to acquaint yourselves with him if you wish, but do not overdo it. Understood?"
"Understood!" they replied in near unison.
Alexei observed the room carefully. Some faces brightened with excitement at the announcement, while others clearly did not share the sentiment. Perhaps a few resented having their work environment disrupted, their routine and quiet harmony unsettled. Or perhaps some simply had reasons of their own to dislike additional attention. Whatever the case, Alexei chose not to dwell on it for now. He would focus on his purpose here, for the time being.
Noticing Sokolov's glance, Alexei immediately understood the unspoken prompt. He turned to face the room, inclined his head slightly, and addressed them with a faint, polite smile. "Thank you all for your hard work. I hope my presence here won't disturb your duties."
Sokolov released a quiet sigh of relief. It was never his place to direct His Highness on what to say or do, yet common courtesy demanded some acknowledgment after such an introduction. Fortunately, the Tsarevich had caught on immediately.
With the formalities concluded, Sokolov led Alexei toward the department head's office. The director's order had to be delivered personally. Upon reaching the guarded door, Sokolov gave a subtle nod to the officer stationed outside. The guard stepped forward, knocked three times, and waited.
"Come in," a voice called from within after a brief pause.
The guard immediately opened the door and ushered them inside.
Sokolov straightened the moment they entered and saluted sharply. "Lieutenant Sokolov, sir. I have the honor of escorting His Imperial Highness, the Tsarevich."
Major Yakov Denisov, seated behind the desk, rose at once. He was a middle-aged man with neatly combed dark hair and sharp, attentive eyes that betrayed years of careful scrutiny. He returned the lieutenant's salute before turning to salute the Tsarevich.
"Your Highness," he said respectfully. "Major Denisov, at your service."
Alexei returned the gesture with a crisp salute of his own. "At ease, Major."
Following the exchange, Sokolov stepped forward and retrieved a sealed document from inside his coat. "This is the director's order," he said respectfully, extending it toward the department head.
Denisov accepted the document with both hands and broke the seal, reading its contents carefully. His expression shifted from professional neutrality to unmistakable seriousness as his eyes moved across the page. When he finished, he folded the document neatly and looked up.
He inclined his head toward Alexei. "On behalf of the Records Department, Your Highness, you are most welcome here. My staff and I are at your disposal. Please consider this department open to you for observation and study."
Alexei offered a small, courteous smile. "Thank you. I look forward to learning from your work."
He then extended his hand.
Major Denisov accepted it respectfully, sealing the welcome with a firm handshake. He then gestured for the Tsarevich to take a seat, and Alexei accepted without hesitation.
Once the Major had taken his own seat, he spoke.
"I hope you didn't find my office stifling, Your Highness?"
Alexei shook his head, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Not at all, Major. It's actually much larger than the others I've visited in this building."
Major Denisov let out a light laugh and gestured toward the side of his office. "It would be even larger if not for all these folders and papers taking up the space."
Alexei followed the direction of his gesture and took in the neatly stacked folders and documents lining the shelves. In truth, he had noticed them the moment he entered and thought little of it. Still, he knew better than to appear indifferent. Of all the observation and learning he had done across the ministries these past months, the most valuable skill he had picked up was how to maintain casual conversation with people he had little personal interest in.
"I see," Alexei said, turning back to the Major. "Why not store them elsewhere instead of keeping them in your office?"
Major Denisov sighed softly. "These are documents I must personally review and analyze, Your Highness, before they can be archived. No one else has the authority to read or scrutinize them except the department heads and the director."
Alexei inclined his head slightly. "I see. that makes sense."
"Speaking of authority," Major Denisov added, "the extent of your access while working here was included in the director's order, Your Highness." He then handed the order back to Alexei.
Alexei took it and read carefully, his expression unchanged as his eyes moved across the page.
When he finished, he looked up. "If I may ask, Major, what exactly does Level III authority entail?"
Major Denisov shifted slightly in his chair, settling into a more explanatory posture. "The Okhrana operates under a four-tier authority system, Your Highness. It exists to compartmentalize intelligence and limit unnecessary exposure. Information is power here, and power must be controlled." He then proceeded to explain the different tiers of authority.
According to Major Denisov, Level IV was the lowest level an officer could possess. It covered routine administrative matters, clerical work, and general policing intelligence, petty crimes, minor disturbances, public order reports, and unverified rumors. Most clerks and junior officers never saw anything beyond this tier.
Level III, the clearance Alexei had been granted, dealt with domestic security intelligence within the city and surrounding regions. This included street gangs, criminal syndicates, black-market activity, smuggling rings and labor agitators. Surveillance summaries, arrest reports, and informant statements related to these groups all fell under this level.
Level II was reserved for senior officers and department heads. It encompassed coordinated revolutionary networks, cross-provincial operations, terrorist planning, counterintelligence efforts, and ongoing infiltration missions.
Finally, Level I authority sat at the very top. On this, even Major Denisov could offer little detail. Access was restricted to the director, his most trusted deputies, the minister of interior, prime minister and the Tsar himself.
When the Major finished, Alexei nodded, a faint frown forming on his face. The information the department head had just given was quite a lot to take on. He had heard of these authority levels before, but only now did he truly understand what they entailed. Fortunately, the clearance he had been granted covered exactly the kind of information he was looking for. If not… he shook his head inwardly, pushing aside the darker thoughts forming in his head.
Noticing the frown on the Tsarevich's face, Major Denisov hastily added, "You don't need to worry about your authority level being low, Your Highness. I'm certain this restriction exists mainly to protect you from particularly sensitive material concerning revolutionary activities in our archives. When you are older, I have no doubt your clearance will be raised."
Alexei immediately schooled his expression and nodded to prevent any misunderstanding. "You're right, Major. I suppose this will suffice for now. So, what should I do next?"
Seeing that the Tsarevich accepted his explanation without issue, the Major visibly relaxed. "I don't have any work prepared for you yet, Your Highness. As you can see, I only just received the order myself. Most of what we do here involves documenting, cross-referencing, and archiving the reports we receive from other departments. That said, I can arrange tasks for you if there is anything in particular you wish to do. Of course, you are also free to simply observe, if you prefer."
Alexei shook his head immediately at the last suggestion. "I came here to learn, Major, so I intend to work. You can start by arranging an office for me, then assign someone to teach me how things are done here. I hope that isn't too much to ask."
"Oh no, not at all, Your Highness," Major Denisov replied at once. "I'll have everything arranged immediately."
With that, the conversation drew to a natural close. Major Denisov rose from his seat and excused himself briefly to give instructions. Orders were passed quickly through the department, clerks moving with renewed urgency now that the Tsarevich's presence was no longer a distant dream but a reality that demanded preparation and attention.
It took a little over an hour for everything to be finalized.
When Major Denisov returned, he personally escorted Alexei through a quieter corridor, away from the main archive hall. They stopped before a modest but well-kept office; clean, orderly, and furnished with a sturdy desk and shelves already prepared to hold working documents.
"This will be your office for the duration of your assignment here, Your Highness," Denisov said. "It's close enough to the Records Hall for convenience, but private enough for your study."
Alexei stepped inside and gave the room a brief inspection. It was simple, but functional, exactly what he needed.
Denisov then gestured toward a young officer waiting just outside the doorway. "I've also assigned an assistant to you. This is Lieutenant Semyon Orlov. He's familiar with our indexing systems and day-to-day procedures and will assist you with any tasks or questions you may have."
The lieutenant straightened and saluted sharply. "It's an honor to serve you, Your Highness." Though he maintained a serious demeanor, he couldn't entirely conceal the flicker of excitement in his expression and posture.
Alexei studied the lieutenant for a moment before returning the salute with a measured nod. "I'll be relying on you, Lieutenant."
With the arrangements complete, Major Denisov inclined his head respectfully. "If there's anything you require, Your Highness, you need only to send a word."
As the Major took his leave, Alexei settled behind his new desk, his expression calm and focused. After all the drama, maneuvering and effort he had exerted, he had finally secured the position he wanted.
Alexei was casually surveying his new office when he noticed Lieutenant Sokolov lingering nearby, his expression faintly disappointed and subdued. Alexei then glanced at his newly assigned lieutenant, who could barely contain his excitement, and chuckled inwardly. Office politics, he thought. How I missed this from my first life.
"You know, Lieutenant Sokolov," he began lightly, "you can stay with me if you wish. I'll still need someone like you to show me around the other departments."
His words immediately brought a bright smile to Sokolov's face, and, just as quickly, a flicker of disappointment to the other lieutenant standing nearby.
This'll be fun. Alexei thought evilly.