"Hey, soldier, show me your rifle." Corporal Giggins said to the young soldier in front of him, crossing his waist.

"Sir, yes, sir." The seventeen-year-old private replied loudly with his head raised, and then held his rifle in front of him. The corporal took the Lee Enfield MK-I and expertly opened the safety, pulled the bolt, and checked the bolt and chamber.

"Good maintenance, soldier, this is a good gun, you have to take care of it as you love your own eyeballs, because the only thing you can rely on on is the rifle in your hand."

Giggins handed the rifle back to the private, and just as he was about to say something to cement his authority, he was interrupted by a call from a company commander not far away.

"Now, the whole platoon rests on the spot." Giggins gave the order to his infantry platoon to rest.

"What's the problem, sir." Giggins ran to the new company commander and asked, in his eyes, this young ensign was simply unreliable because his hair had not faded and the milk had not dried. He had seen too many of the children of this kind of gilded family before, but those who dared to enter the army at this time must have extraordinary courage, which made Giggins feel a little admired, and the nobles were still very honorable at some times.

Maybe it's the second son of a family, it's a customary rule, the son of a noble family inherits the title, the second son joins the army, and if there is a third son, he is sent to the church to become a clergy, which is the so-called Trinity, the cornerstone of the rule of power.

"What about these soldiers, Giggins, I need to hear what you think." The young ensign was no longer than twenty years old, and he had grown a beard on his upper lip to add to his majesty, but Giggins thought that the effect was limited.

"Half of it was conscripted militiamen, and many of them were formerly just ordinary workers and civilians, all with only some basic infantry training. But I'm sure they're brave men with great morale, and they're all looking forward to going into battle and killing the Germans as soon as possible. Giggins made no secret of his admiration for his subordinates.

"They will soon have a chance, and we will immediately go to Norwood Park to support the 3rd Battalion of the Scottish Infantry Regiment there. Now the second and third rows are still rushing here, and the top is very tight. I want you to take your row with you now and head off immediately. The second lieutenant held the holster on his waist with one hand and the other behind his back, trying his best to make himself look confident, but Giggins had already seen through the essence of the other party's strong and middle-class cadres, and the pretending kid was still a little immature, you have the ability not to tremble.

"Yes, sir." Giggins was a professional soldier, and obedience was his personal credo, so although he had some personal opinions about the decision, he still accepted the order without hesitation. The sergeant stomped his right leg the ground and gave the second lieutenant a standard military salute. Then he turned and ran towards his infantry platoon.

"This is what we found in the garbage dump over there, and so far five parachutes have been found, and it seems that at least five people parachuted here last night. It's just not known whether it was the downed pilot or the paratroopers who were airdropped. A sergeant reported their findings to Senior Inspector Kempton of Scotland Yard.

It was already early in the morning when it was discovered that one of the Scottish brigades had found out that one of their patrols was missing, and God knows how they had found out that there were no one in their team overnight. The body of the patrol was soon found by the searchers, and the killer did not seem to care at all about the revelation of his crime, and there was no trace of any artificial cover-up at the scene of the crime.

Scotland Yard was asked to send the best forces to investigate, hoping to find the whereabouts of the killer from the clues at the scene. But as a result, Kempton did not receive a formal order until eight o'clock in the morning. The bureaucrats were as sluggish as ever until this time. After arriving at the scene, the police did not make much effort at all, and found a lot of evidence. Because there are too many traces left by the other party. It can be said that it is all over the ground, and in the past, this is simply a blatant contempt and provocation of Scotland Yard.

"It should be a German paratrooper, this is a cartridge case for a standard 7.92 mm heavy pointed bullet, which is a military item. Look at the corpses of these soldiers, and then look at the bullet marks nearby. They came under German machine-gun fire. The inspector walked over to the wall and pulled a pen out of his pocket and inserted it into the bullet hole in the wall.

"This is probably the first place to be shot, you look at the trajectory, the bullet is coming from above." Kempton looked up at the sky diagonally above.

"The other side starts shooting from the air, if there is no special training. Ordinary paratroopers simply can't do this, this should be the elite paratroopers of Germany, like the special forces like the Gormand. Kempton put away his pen and looked at the row of corpses hidden by the blanket on the side of the road with his hands on his shoulders, and then said to the sheriff.

"We're in trouble, it's not an opponent we can deal with, I'll report back to Scotland Yard right away, this should be solved by the army, and we'd better not get involved in this matter."

After saying that, the senior inspector patted the sheriff on the shoulder. "I'll leave it to you, clean up this place and find some people to carry the body away."

"Wait a minute, there are two more boxes." Lipton shouted at the trailer that was about to start.

"It's this nasty guy again, it's a real delay." The driver took a cigarette in his mouth and muttered on the brakes.

"Thank you, thank you." The third secretary of the Ministry of the Interior carefully placed the leather briefcase in his hand into the compartment of the trailer, then took out his handkerchief and climbed into the cab while wiping his sweat.

"Thanks, I thought I was going to catch the next trip." Lipton gasped and said to the driver.

"What are you doing in such a hurry, Mr. Lipton?" The driver puffed out the smoke and pulled down the gear, this small trailer was converted from the famous Austin Type 7, and the back compartment could carry half a ton of supplies, but for now it was chosen not because of its good performance, but because it was relatively small and suitable for moving in the tunnel.

"I'm going to take stock of the goods that were shipped before, and this place will be completely closed tonight."

"So fast? Sealed? Could it be that the rumors out there are true? We can't hold London, the Germans are coming in soon? The driver glanced at the little bureaucrat next to him in surprise, and after two days of getting along, he knew that although this man was not in a high position, he was unusually well-informed.

"Don't be cranky, Mr. Herbert. Things aren't as bad as you think. What's more, even if the Germans come in, they won't think about what they will do with us little people. Lipton wiped the hot sweat from his head, hung his handkerchief on the window to dry, and pulled out a delicate cigarette case from the pocket of his three-piece suit and pulled out a cigarette with a filter from it.

"It's really high-quality, sir, where did you get it?"

"The last time I went to deliver documents to Sir Reese, His Excellency the Chancellor gave me a gift that was said to be French, and it was the same for me." Lipton triumphantly boasted to the driver, suggesting that he and the Secretary of State for Transport would be able to talk.

"There's something in there, and it's going to be sealed in this tunnel." Herbert watched enviously as the other man swallowed the smoke beside him, and he quietly flicked the cigarette butt out of the car window, spitting off the crushed smoke foam in his mouth.

"This is not something you should know, Mr. Herbert, not even temptation, little people like us must learn to keep their mouths shut in order to live a long life."

"Okay, I see, don't scare people like that." Herbert pouted in disbelief.

"It's not going to be all money." Turning his head, he leaned over again and whispered inquiring.

"Money? This is something more precious than money, and the future revival of the British Empire depends on these things. As long as we keep this wealth, the empire can rise again at any time. Lipton tilted his head and looked with contempt at the unlearned fool next to him, who had nothing but money in his head, no wonder he could only be a humble driver.

"More valuable than money? Is it a gold bar? Obediently, so many boxes, how many pounds is it worth, let me do the math, the current price of gold is ......"

"Oh my God, you are hopeless, Mr. Herbert. Well, in order to prevent you from thinking cranky, I will give you a thorough explanation, these are the most important information and documents, involving the core secrets of the Empire. As long as we have these things in our hands, we have the capital to rise again, which is a wealth left to our descendants, and must not fall into the hands of the enemy, you see, Mr. Herbert. Lipton threw the cigarette butt out the window.

"I see, I see, Mr. Lipton, I will keep my mouth shut, and you have to believe in my credit." Herbert felt as if he had heard something he shouldn't have heard, and he hurriedly swore to the other party that he would not divulge any news.

The tunnel wasn't too long, and the truck was soon at the bottom of the tunnel, where huge iron boxes were stacked against the solid concrete walls, and several soldiers were guarding Thomson.

"Herbert, do me a favor and unload the file box for me." Lipton ordered to the driver.

"No problem, Mr. Lipton." The driver hurriedly opened the door, walked to the side of the car, leaned over and dragged the two file boxes. At this time, he suddenly heard a click. The driver looked up in confusion, only to see the third-class secretary standing on the opposite side of the carriage, holding a pistol to his forehead.

"Hey......" Herbert's eyes widened in surprise.

"Smack!" A gunshot rang out, which was particularly loud in the tunnel, stirring up an echo.

"It's okay, don't be nervous." Lipton raised his arm and shouted at the soldiers who were waiting for the barrels of their guns.

"This is a German spy, I've got rid of him, I'll take care of everything." Lipton slowly slipped the pistol back into his waist, then turned to the other side of the truck to check on the driver's body.

Ask for a monthly pass.,It's the last day.,Please vote for all the remaining monthly passes in your hands for this book.,The monthly pass will be invalid if you don't vote.,Now the competition is at the last moment.,I need everyone's support.,Thank you.。 (To be continued.) )