When Henry awoke from his coma, he found himself blindfolded, his hands and feet bound with ropes, and a ball of cotton cloth in his mouth. Henry's first feeling was that he had been kidnapped, in Europe at that time, kidnapping cases were too common, this business was less risky and quick to make money, because the police at that time had very limited criminal investigation skills, and very few could successfully solve the case.

But when he came back to his senses, the reporter couldn't figure it out again, although the influence of the "Daily Mail" in the world is not small, but he is a foreign correspondent who supports himself to death, and he gets a basic salary of 70 pounds a month, and maybe there will be some bonuses if he does a good job, which depends on whether the editor-in-chief is gracious. Because he usually travels extensively and is used to spending lavishly, he has not been able to save much savings until now, and even the moped was bought at the newspaper's expense, and he only obtained the right to use it.

What blind gangster would think of kidnapping a journalist when a rich man would have nothing to do as a journalist? Henry guessed that the kidnappers might have mistaken someone, and that he might not have been unlucky enough to become a scapegoat for a rich man.

But then he thought that the other party seemed to have asked for his name, and the obvious target of the kidnapping was himself, and he began to worry about whether he had offended someone who could not be messed with, the problem was that he ran away with some official news, and he couldn't reach those fierce people who could mobilize the gang. What's more, this is Germany, Germany ruled by the Nazi Party, this is a country full of police, who would risk challenging the dignity of the General Security Service to kidnap a foreign correspondent of a major British newspaper.

Henry's mind was full of thoughts, worried about his future, and just before the reporter could use his imagination to scare himself, the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor of leather shoes sounded in his ears, followed by the sound of unlocking the door with a key. Henry quickly relaxed and collapsed to the ground, pretending that he was still unconscious.

"This guy hasn't woken up yet." Henry heard a man speak, speaking German with a thick accent.

"Normally, at this time, the effect of the medicine should have passed." Another man said.

"Wait a minute—" A third man's voice rang out, and then Henry heard footsteps getting closer. Immediately after that, Henry's ribs were kicked hard, and the British reporter curled up in pain on the spot, and let out a miserable whine from his gagged mouth.

"Against this kind of guy who likes to play dead, this trick has always been effective." The third man said.

"You guys, drag him to a chair and sit down." The fourth man said that compared to the previous ones, the voice was quite distinctive, and it seemed that there was some kind of magnetism in the voice.

"Okay." Henry was dragged from the ground by several large pairs of hands, and then pressed into a chair.

"Maurice. I'm sorry, Mr. Henry, but for some reason we can only meet you this way. The voice said.

"Don't get excited, Mr. Morris." Two pairs of large hands pressed down Henry, who was about to struggle, and then someone ripped off the cloth from Henry's eyes. The reporter blinked, adjusting to the light in the room.

"I believe you are aware of your situation, you have been kidnapped by us." Henry followed the prestige and saw a well-dressed man, sitting upright in a high-backed chair, with short gray hair and a mask on his face, unable to tell his real age.

"If I were you, I'd keep quiet." After seeing Henry's nod vigorously, the other man pulled out the cotton cloth that was stuffed in Henry's mouth.

"You see, Mr. Henry, this is a good start." The gray-haired man folded his legs and rested one hand on his knee.

"Don't worry, we're not robbers and don't need your money." The gray-haired man reached out his other hand and took a document from his accomplice.

"We brought you here just to ask you a few questions, Mr. Henry, and if you cooperate, I promise to give you back your freedom." The gray-haired man flicked his fingers at the document in his hand.

"Maurice. Henry, born in Tonbridge, England, was born on June 5, 1907, to the son of Lecht. Henry, whose mother is Linda. Henry. I'm right, Mr. Henry. The man asked.

"That's right, that's me, sir." Henry nodded, his mind had a new concept of the forces behind this group of people, all of them were paper archives these years, and there was no national information networking system, and it was not easy to access a person's files.

"You have an older brother named Richard. Henry. The man asked, looking at the papers.

"Yes, sir." Henry nodded in reply.

"Where does he work now?" The man looked up and stared into Henry's eyes.

"I don't really pay attention to him, I heard him say which subordinate department of the Admiralty he is." Henry replied honestly.

"You are very honest, Mr. Henry, there are not many people as honest as you these days." Although he couldn't see the lower half of the other party's face, Henry could see a smile in the other party's eyes.

"Tell me about this brother of yours, Mr. Henry, do you keep in touch now?" The man changed his sitting position.

"Richard and I have been very good since we were young, he was a top student in school, he was very strong, and he was always surrounded by a lot of girls. After graduating from high school, he joined the Navy with only two weeks off a year, then married his boss's daughter, moved out of the family apartment, and met several times a year on holidays. I changed jobs after graduating from university and ended up working as a reporter at the Daily Mail, where I was so busy that I didn't have the opportunity to meet Richard. Henry replied.

"When was the last time you were contacted?" The man asked.

"One day after the war broke out, he suddenly returned to Tonbridge's house, and I happened to be home that day. Richard told us to hide at my aunt's house in the country, saying that the home fleet had suffered a crushing defeat at Dunkirk and that the Germans might soon have to land. Henry replied.

"Very well, Mr. Henry, let's talk about it for the day." The man stood up.

"Wait, didn't you say you'd let me go if I cooperated?" Henry looked up at the man.

"Yes, what I said always counts, and I'll let you go, but not now." After the man finished speaking, he turned his face to a strong man and ordered, "Prepare some food for Mr. Henry, and take good care of him." ”

"Understood, boss." The strong man replied respectfully.

"I'll come back to you with some questions, and if you have any requests, you can tell Igor and he will try to accommodate your requests."

"Can I know your name? Mr. Henry asked aloud, boldly.

"Hmm... Of course, Mr. Henry, you can call me Mr. G. The man turned his head to look at Henry.

“G... Sir? Henry pronounced the obvious pseudonym.

"Yes, Mr. Henry." Mr. G bowed slightly to Henry, then turned his head and strode out the door.

"I'll get you something to eat soon, and you can only be grieved for a while before that." The brawny man pulled Henry up from his seat, and another man tied a shackle to Henry's foot, and the other end of the chain was attached to a steel-framed bed in the corner of the room.

"I need to warn you, this room is deep underground, you can try to shout for help and see if anyone hears you." Before locking the door, the strong man reminded Henry with a sinister smile.

"Is this Englishman, sir, really that important?" The subordinate who followed behind Mr. G asked suspiciously.

"Well, he's a key person, so there's no room for error, and the breakthrough lies in this man's brother if our plans in the UK can be carried out smoothly." Mr. G took off his mask, revealing a dignified and stern face.

"If so, I suggest that he should be removed from Berlin as soon as possible before alarming the General Security Service." The subordinate proposed to.

"Don't act rashly for now, it will take at least two days for the British to find out that he is missing, his identity is useful, and I now have a new idea." Mr. G pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

"This is the one found from the Englishman's pocket?" The subordinate asked.

"Do you know what's in there?" Mr. G stopped.

"I don't know." The subordinate shook his head honestly.

"This is an invitation to a press conference dinner in the German head of state tomorrow evening. Feng. Städel will be present at the banquet in person. ”

"Do you want it?" The subordinate looked at his boss with horror on his face.

"Idiot, do you want me to kill myself? I mean, this is the perfect opportunity for us to get up close and personal with the new head of the empire. Mr. G looked up at the light and admired the beautifully crafted invitation.

PS: Thank you for your support, continue to ask for monthly passes, ask for recommendations.

In addition, I will inform you that the author will go out to run errands tomorrow, and the update may be delayed for a day, and the day after tomorrow will be made up.

Specifically, the author will send another notice tomorrow, and I hope that all book friends will tell each other.

Thank you all for your support.