"You guys go search the room on the left, and the others come with me." A gendarmerie sergeant rushed down the stairs with a Beretta M38 submachine gun in his hand, pointing to the end of the corridor and giving a loud order.

"It is impossible for him to escape alone, there must be many of his comrades here, and it is the order of His Majesty the King to dig them all out."

Colonel Paul shouted loudly, then turned his head and said to his subordinates beside him, "You take the rest of the people to the garden, there are many corners where people can hide, and you must search carefully, if... You know what to do. The Colonel gestured with his finger to the side of his neck.

"Understood, we'll find him, sir." The major saluted Paul, and then led a group of guards toward the garden.

"Do you hear the alarm bell over there? They've finally found out you're missing. Pietro closed the curtain and walked in front of the Italian dictator.

"Who would have thought that in the dungeon, there would be a secret passage to the outside of the palace." Mussolini changed into a striped suit with a light blue background, and he hadn't worn his everyday clothes for a long time.

"There are always things that need to be done without the eyes and ears of the outside world, such as passing some important people and prohibited items, this passage has been closed for two centuries, and no one knows about its existence, thanks to the Church's habit of keeping secret files." Pitlow picked up the teapot on the table and poured Mussolini a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mussolini, but you can't leave here just yet. Now your supporters are fighting with Badoglio's people in the streets, and now I can't guarantee your safety when you go out, besides... Nor can my duty allow you to leave here. ”

"I have to get back to my people, and they'll be able to keep us safe." Mussolini did not touch the cup of tea.

"Can you identify who you are? Mr. Mussolini. It seems that you still haven't figured out your situation, and now it's your comrades who want to kill you the most. Because your death is more beneficial to them, especially since you have left them such a large and attractive legacy. Everyone wants to be Augustus, and the dead Caesar is the greatest wealth, but I don't know which one is Mark Antony and which one is Octavian. Pietro smiled and picked up his teacup, bowing his head gracefully and taking a sip of sweet tea.

"What about you? Baron Pitlow, who are you? Mussolini's face turned ugly, and he realized that what he was saying might be the truth.

"Well, I'm just an insignificant little person." Pietro pulled out a cigarette from the can on the table.

"Yes?" The baron asked.

"You feel free." Mussolini nodded with a calm face.

"Thank you, Mr. Mussolini." Pietro struck a match and lit a cigarette.

"How history develops is not something that people like me can control. The coup wasn't as simple as you might think, and I just happened to be caught up in it, but in retrospect, the inexplicable order was a bit suspicious, and maybe it really had something to do with my boss. Pitlow spat out a smoke ring.

"Don't ask me who my boss is, but I'm sure you've guessed it."

"The Socialist Party... No, no, no, it can't be them, is it the Germans? You are working for the Germans! Mussolini looked at Patlow in surprise.

"Very clever, but what's so strange about this, my Excellency Prime Minister, all have a price, mine is a little higher, but if anyone is willing to bid..."Pietro shrugged slightly.

"I have a large family to support, and I owe a lot of money to the bank due to the failure of my investment business, and I like to enjoy life, so when the boss's people come to me, I have no way to refuse."

"You're not afraid of me revealing your identity."

"It doesn't matter, when this work is over, my family will immigrate to the United States, and my boss is much more generous than our Majesty the King. Besides, I saved your life from Badoglio, and you won't do anything to your benefactor. ”

"Of course not, but we are not destined to be friends." Mussolini crossed his arms and raised his chin high.

"Keep your friendship, Your Excellency Mussolini, I'm not rare at all, really." Pietro remained unbumpy and unpretentious, and seemed determined to kill the former prime minister.

"What exactly are you planning, and what are the Germans planning?" Mussolini's forehead was bruised, but he could only grit his teeth and endure it for the sake of his life, and he also figured it out at the moment, and now he didn't want to see him die, maybe it was really only Germany.

"I know what's going on in your head, but it's a shame you're wrong. In fact, there was no plan at all, and my task was to report to my superiors on time on the movements of the coup side, and the secret passage was originally intended for emergency evacuation. ”

"You mean, it's all an impromptu decision you made?"

"Otherwise, I'm not a prophet."

"You are not afraid that things will go wrong and you will lose your life."

"Of course I thought about it, but the little danger was worth the risk compared to the huge gains that came with it. And those jailers have long been bribed by me with money, and I am completely sure that I will escape from the palace. Pitlow smiled and picked up his teacup.

"You're saying there's no one out there to answer you? God, you're the most daring guy I've ever met, and you're gambling with your life. Mussolini had seen many such gamblers in his life, but only the one in front of him was the one who played so high-end.

"I did succeed, didn't I? All we have to do now is wait here with peace of mind. Pitlow stood up and walked to the ledge.

"Waiting for what?" Mussolini asked.

"It seems that you really don't know anything, Mr. Mussolini." Pietro lifted the curtains and cautiously peered down the street.

"The Germans will attack today, and the target is the city of Rome."

"It can't be! They are still on the [Mussolini] line this morning. ”

"I don't know about this, I'm not a military strategist." Pitlow closed the curtain and walked back to his couch.

"How far are we from Rome?" Lieutenant Sparu untied the tie around his neck, put his sand-yellow coat over the conning tower, and pulled up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Ask Sergeant Rem, he's been looking at the map for half a day." The driver replied in the in-car communication.

"Look at the road and watch the way ahead. Twenty kilometers away, sir. The named radio operator reported.

Two tank platoons of the 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion of the 21st Panzer Regiment, plus a total of 12 38T tanks at the company headquarters, were advancing along the road next to the railway line towards Rome as the assault vanguard of the German army.

At speeds of up to 42 kilometers per hour, this Czech-made tank was the fastest tank currently equipped by the German army, and its firepower and armor were capable of handling regular intensity battles, and the light tanks of the Italian Army were no match for this tank. Because the number of equipment in the German army is very large, the high command has no idea of replacing this type of tank for the time being.

"Sir, the regiment commander wants to know if the people of the 77th Regiment are still following us." Sergeant Rem turned back and reported.

"Let him wait a minute, he should still be following behind, pick me up three rows... Landsdorf, do you see that the infantry is still following us? Lieutenant Sparou asked, clutching his headphones.

"Okay, yes, it's clear... I hope that's what I want too... Yes, it did go well today, that's all, keep the channel open, done. The company commander leaned down to look at the radio operator.

"Tell the regimental commander that the seventy-seventh regiment is with us."

"Understood, sir." The radioman nodded in agreement.

"Listen, all of you, in front of us is Rome, the capital of Italy, and the first battalion and two companies will be the first German troops to enter the city, be proud of yourself, the soldiers of the 21st Panzer Regiment, let's go and conquer Rome."

Lieutenant Sparrow spoke loudly with the microphone in his hand, and a satisfied smile appeared on the commander's face when he heard the cheers of the crews behind him. (To be continued.) )