"There's no time left, take all the remaining documents to the garden and burn them." The secretary of the court packed some of the documents he thought were most important into a portable filing cabinet and threw the keys to the confidential room on his desk.

"Please, Your Excellency, can you take them with you." Miss Rozanna, the secretary, had a cry in her voice.

"The car can't fit so many people, don't worry, the Germans won't embarrass them." The Count of Belonde reached out and patted his lover lightly on the cheek. Several palace guards rushed into the confidential room with wheelbarrows and began to carry documents out in bundles.

The coquettish and lovely female secretaries on weekdays are like a group of frightened deer, standing in the corner of the house in a panic, and the timid ones have begun to sobble quietly.

"Ladies, don't stand stupidly, you've all been fired, run for your lives." The Count lifted the filing cabinet and dragged Rosanna out of the room in a hurry.

There was already a mess in the palace of Quirinal, and it was not known what had gone wrong, and the high command did not inform the king of the news of the German army's entry into the city, and by the time they realized the mistake, the German tank units had already marched into the Roman gladiatorial arena.

Upon learning of the news of the German vanguard, which was less than two kilometers from the royal palace, Emanuele III almost suffered a heart attack on the spot. The king has no strength to talk nonsense, all he can do at the moment is to flee as soon as possible, as the king of a country, he must not fall into the hands of the enemy. Even if the Germans wouldn't hurt him, he couldn't afford the humiliation of being captured, and he didn't want to be treated like a circus monkey by the German barbarians.

"Badoglio, this idiot, I fell for him." Emmanuele III hurried downstairs surrounded by the guards, and almost stepped on the air when he lost his soul, but fortunately the chief of the guards grabbed him by the arm quickly, so as to avoid the scene of the king rolling the stairs.

"Your Majesty, the car is ready, we can take refuge in foreign embassies." Colonel Paul helped the king into the Alfa Romeo 6C convertible.

"No, the road to the embassy district has been blocked, and the Germans are now approaching the altar of the Fatherland." The guards who drove the car reported.

"Damn," Colonel Paul patted the back of his chair.

"Cross the river, cross the Tvere River from the Emanuele II Bridge." The king said aloud.

"To the Vatican?" Colonel Paul's eyes lit up.

"Your Majesty is indeed wise, there is no more suitable place in the world for the king to take refuge than the Holy City, and no matter how powerful the Germans are, they will never dare to risk the condemnation and forcibly enter the Vatican to search."

"Drive, let's go first, let the others follow."

"The car that picked up the queen hasn't come back yet."

"It's too late to wait for her, leave someone here to inform her." The king patted the back of the driver's seat.

"Drive, we're running out of time."

"The king has evacuated the palace, and now his whereabouts are unknown, and only a few low-ranking attendants and palace guards are left in the palace of Quirinal, and when the gendarmes who have been sent arrive to find that some of the people left behind are taking advantage of the fire to loot and carry out the furniture and ornaments of the palace." Major General of the Gendarme, Baron Galinia, held on to the door of the sedan and reported to Badogrio in the car.

"They're going to be punished, everyone." Badoglio said with a frown on his heart.

"Marshal, you go first, I'll deal with the matter at hand, and I'll catch up immediately."

"Be careful, you can't surrender to the Germans." Badogglio said.

"Don't worry, marshal, I know what to do." Baron Galinia gave Bardoglio a military salute and slammed the door shut.

"Driver, get moving!" The gendarmerie major general patted the roof of the car and shouted.

"Is the train station still in our hands?" Bonomi stood by the door and asked the secretary beside him.

"No further information, I can't guarantee it." The secretary replied respectfully.

"It's twelve hours short, if you're giving us half a day... It doesn't make sense to talk about that anymore. The former Home Secretary watched as the driver stuffed two heavy suitcases into the trunk.

"Let's go to the airport, it's still too late."

"But there are no planes on the airport anymore."

"I have prepared a small transport plane for a long time, parked in a civilian hangar, enough for six people. I had also sent a battalion of gendarmes to guard the airport, and I should be able to hold out until we arrived. Bonomy got into the car, and the secretary closed the door for him.

"I forgot to tell Firio to water my flowers." The former Minister of the Interior said from the window of the car.

"I've informed you, Your Excellency." The secretary opened the door and sat in the passenger seat.

"Thank you, Luciano, I don't know what to do without you." Bonomi reached out and patted the secretary on the shoulder.

"This area used to be the center of Rome, and of course it is now, look at the remains of these temples, and imagine that two thousand years ago, perhaps Caesar was standing where I am standing now, watching Marius's Roman legions walk down this street." The German captain stood on the steps of the ruins and watched the 38T tanks of the second company creak over the old stone road.

"For an archaeologist, this kind of scene is simply a crime, but as a soldier, I am proud and honored by the scene in front of me."

"Company commander, the second platoon has encountered some trouble in Piazza Venezia, and the regimental commander has asked our company to rush over to support immediately." The communications soldier interrupted his boss with a walkie-talkie.

"I told them to keep their distance and not to rush too fast." The captain took the walkie-talkie.

"Ludwik, do you see that flower bed? You take the machine gun crew to set up positions over there, the fire of the whole platoon will cover you, and you must first find a way to suppress the fire point of the window on the third floor. Second Lieutenant Boult, the commander of the second platoon, shouted into the ear of the machine gun leader.

"Understood, sir."

"Wait for my orders.... All of them fire at the window! Alright, you guys, hurry, hurry. The platoon commander slapped a machine gun leader on the back, and then picked up an MP40 and fired at the window of the Palazzo Venezia.

Mussolini's guards and a handful of supporters now occupy the ancient fortress, fending off the German offensive with powerful automatic fire. Although the Italian Breda M30 machine gun itself had problems with its design, it could only hold 20 rounds of ammunition in the fixed magazine, and it had to be loaded with bare hands after the bullets were exhausted, which was ridiculed by soldiers as a large semi-automatic rifle. But here the quantity offsets the quality defects, under the crossfire of eight M30 machine guns, the horizontal bullets are as dense as raindrops, and the lethality of the 6.5 mm round-nosed bullets fired at this distance is still very impressive.

The German infantry platoon, eager to win, accidentally rushed to the front of the armored troops, and almost suffered a big loss without finding out the layout of the Venetian Palace. Fortunately, the Italian soldiers were too nervous and fired early to expose the point of fire, and if they had waited until the Germans were close to open fire, the German infantry platoon would likely have been annihilated.

But there was no turning back on the war, and the Italian soldiers now had to pay for their recklessness.

"We can only attack buildings with more than three floors, we can't destroy the Palazzo Venezia, which has a lot of important documents." Lieutenant Sparu shouted loudly at the infantry company commander.

"I also understand that the orders we receive are the same. Do you see that tower? The Italians have machine-gun fire points in it, will your thirty-seven-mm guns be able to take them out? "The captain stood in the corner of the altar of the Fatherland, with only a communication group at his side.

"We can try, Captain." Sparou slipped back into the conning tower, and his two tanks lined up in two rows on the street east of the Altar of the Fatherland.

"Please take your men back a little further, Captain, it's not safe here." Sparou cautiously poked his head out and shouted, his tank was now less than three hundred meters away from the Venezia Palace in a straight line, completely exposed to the range of the Italian shooters.

The appearance of the German tanks caused panic among the Italian defenders, who picked up all the weapons in their hands and fired frantically at the German tanks, but they could only stir up pieces of shining sparks on the 38T riveted armor plates, and the hull clanged.

"Aim for the first floor of the tower to shoot holes." Sparrow gave the order, and the gunner immediately signaled that preparations were complete.

"Fire!" Sparrow shouted into the microphone.

In an instant, four towed shells with flashes shot out of the barrel, and at this distance the trajectory was completely straight, and in a fraction of a second, the 37-millimeter high-speed projectile crossed a distance of 260 meters and struck the brick wall of the square tower.

The tower was originally intended for military use, and the same materials used for the main building were used, so it can be said that it was built quite strongly.

Unfortunately, it is now encountering the latest modern weapons, this wall is almost defenseless in the face of 37mm shells, the warhead easily shatters the bricks, and then ignites the delayed fuse in the city, the charge of more than 30 grams does not sound like a lot, but it is enough to set off a storm of steel in a confined space.

"Hit well, keep shooting." Sparrow shouted with delight.

So the four tanks in the front row fired another salvo, and the warheads accurately cut four large holes in the tower again, perhaps hitting the ammunition stored in the tower, so there was a rather spectacular explosion on the second floor of the tower, and the shattered windows and all kinds of messy objects flew into the street on the side, and the floor was like a huge holiday firework spraying flames in all directions.

"Awesome, it's the top now, keep shooting." Lieutenant Sparou exclaimed excitedly.

"Wait a minute, sir, take a look." Sergeant Rem reminded loudly.

"That window on the corner of the third floor, they raised the white flag, sir, the Italians have surrendered." The radio operator cheered loudly.

At 3:47 p.m. on October 28, the defenders of the Palazzo Venezia ceased their resistance and raised the white flag to surrender to the Wehrmacht. (To be continued.) )