Battle of the Third Reich Chapter 406: Chaotic War (Part 2)

"Follow me closely, don't say anything. No matter what happens, you must follow my instructions." Naizal whispered to the Frenchman.

He deliberately changed into a dark gray burqa, a blue-black turban, and a broad-bladed hunting knife stuck in his waist. Now he looked more like an assassin. Julian always thought that this man was a native of Papar, but after talking, he learned that he was from Algeria.

The temperature in North Africa dropped quickly at night, and Julian was still feeling a bit of chill when he wrapped his Arab robe tightly. Nabhani gave the Frenchman a Nagant pistol for self-defense. Julian had never used this brand of revolver. He only thought that the roasted blue on the gun was pretty.

The Frenchman changed into a light blue cotton robe, a navy blue turban, and a machete stuck in his waist just like Naizal. His baby jacket is now resting on his shoulders. He has carefully checked the contents and remembered that it is intact. Obviously, no one has touched this shameful bag during the time he left to take a bath. These Arabs would never know the true value of the things inside, Julian secretly contempted.

"It is rare for Italians to come out to patrol at night, but if that happened during the day today, maybe a night patrol will be specially arranged. We can only walk through the alleys and try to avoid the main street." Naiza After speaking, Er patted Julian on the shoulder, and then trot down the alley.

Although the Italians have established a colonial power grid, the amount of electricity generated is poor. There is only a small substation in the town, which can only provide night lighting for a few core roads and major government agencies. The surrounding areas are completely covered at night In the night. Fortunately, the moonlight tonight is very bright, like a light blue fluorescent gauze draped on a road house. There is no need to worry about the problem of seeing the road clearly.

The French followed Naizal and walked quickly through the streets. The two of them went around for a while. Julian estimated that he could almost run three or four kilometers. Finally, Naizal Stopped in front of the small courtyard.

"You are very lucky, Mr. Julian, you have never encountered an Italian along the way. The person you are looking for is waiting for you inside, go in, I will stay outside to look out for you." Naizal is behind Gently pushed Julian, and then he held the hunting knife around his waist and hid quietly in the shadow by the yard.

Julian nodded to the Algerian in the shadow, then stepped forward and knocked on the courtyard door gently.

The people inside had been waiting behind the door, hearing a knock on the door, and asked in a low voice: "Who is it?" It was in Italian.

"I am a friend of Urga, and he asked me to bring you some gifts." Julian replied in a low voice in fluent Russian.

There was a sound of latches, and the courtyard door was opened.

"Come in soon," a man called out in the shadow behind the door.

Julian hurriedly walked into the yard, the other side stuck his head out and looked around the door for a while, then gently closed the yard door and reinserted the latch.

"Go in and talk inside." The host turned to Julian and said.

This is a very ordinary North African adobe flat roof house. It looks like it was temporarily rented. There are not a few furniture in the room, only a table, a few chairs, two closets and a blanket covered. Brick couch.

A kerosene lamp was lit on the table, illuminating the small room. After taking a look at the furnishings in the room, Julian turned and looked at the master.

The first impression the other party gave to Julian was that this was a man full of power. Whether it was his tall physique or his oppressive eyes, he was always revealing this information to Julian.

The man was wearing a yellow-brown Arab robe, a black vest, and his head was shaved bare, without a turban. A square face with a clear outline, a high nose bridge, and a beard on the lower jaw. Because of the light, the color of the eyes is a little unclear. It may be dark brown or taupe, or other similar colors, anyway. For Julian, it doesn't matter much.

This is a person who has joined the army. Julian smelled something similar to himself from the opponent, and the smell of the opponent’s soldiers was stronger than him. Perhaps it was an elite force that had participated in actual combat. The French swallowed secretly. Drool.

"Down with the tyrant." The big man stepped forward and stretched out his right hand to Julian.

"Power belongs to the people." Julian held the opponent's hand excitedly and shook it vigorously.

"Fortunately on the road, I waited for you for three days and almost thought you would not be there, Comrade Julian." There was also a trace of excitement on the big man's face, and he held the Frenchman tightly. Hands.

"It was delayed for two days on the border. Fortunately, I caught up." Julian secretly broke away from the opponent's hand, took off the shoulder strap and placed it on the table.

"My name is Sergei Vladimirovich, and my friends call me Sergei. You can also call me, Comrade Julian." Sergei rubbed his palms and stood by the bed. A wine bottle and two wine glasses were taken out of the closet.

"Actually, my last name is Legrand, and Comrade Daryl Ludwig of Fahs asked me to say hello to you." Julian smiled and took a glass of wine.

"What does it have to do? I think this name is nice and easy to call. Besides, Darryl lives in Tunisia and his surname is not Ludwig, he should be me I like your caution. This is a quality that a good investigator must possess. Comrade Julian." Sergey sat down at the table, uncorked the bottle, and poured wine into Julian's glass.

"Vodka is very good, but that's the only thing left." The Russian filled himself with a glass.

"Come, to celebrate your safe arrival." Sergey raised his cup and raised his neck.

"Thank you." The French knew the power of this thing, so he just took a sip.

"You came here alone?" Sergey Sha pushed a small plate beside the table into the middle of the table, which contained some goat cheese and a few shriveled cucumbers.

"Another friend brought me here. He is now looking out, Naizal, you should know him."

"Oh, let him stay outside. These Arabs have strange thinking and always feel that there are some problems here." Sergey reached out his index finger and circled around his temple.

"Okay, let's not talk about him, Comrade Julian, I have brought everything. I hope it hasn't been damaged along the way." Sergei put down the wine glass, grabbed a small cucumber, and dipped it on the side of the plate. After the salt grains, he bit off half of it.

"It's all here. I haven't opened it. The seal is intact." Julian took out a cowhide envelope from the coat and handed it to Xie Liaosha.

"It seems there is no problem." Sergey wiped his hands on the clothes, took the envelope and checked the seal and varnish carefully.

"Next, I will personally send this item back to China. In the past few years, comrades have been severely hit, but we are not discouraged. Everyone believes that the darkness will pass, and one day it will be great. The Soviets will return to the hands of the people.

In the face of those cruel and cunning opponents, we need new thought weapons to arm ourselves. And this is the most powerful weapon in our hands. Every word in it will make the tyrant and his lackeys so scared that even their souls begin to tremble.

As long as we continue to fight, the final victory must belong to us, to the real Bolsheviks, and to every proletariat in the Soviet land. "Sergey Shah touched the cover of the cowhide envelope, and excitedly told Julian.

"I also firmly believe in this, that's why I rushed here to deliver this package to you, Comrade Sergei. This package not only carries the comrades of the Fourth International The support for your great cause, likewise, here also contains Comrade Trotsky’s ardent expectations of you. I hope you will make good use of these things and fight hard to overthrow the tyrant’s dictatorship.” Julian raised the glass.

"For the Soviets."

"For the Soviets and for the health of Comrade Trosky~IndoMTL.com~For the health of Comrade Trosky." Two like-minded men raised their glasses and drank.

"In addition to the manuscript of the article written by Comrade Trotsky, there are also the latest meeting minutes and documents of the Fourth International. There is also a letter written by Comrade Trotsky to some comrades in the country. So you must be very careful. You must not let these fall into the hands of the tyrant’s lackeys. This is related to the lives of countless comrades. There is a self-destructing device on it. If you encounter an accident, you can tear open the flame paint and pull the seal with the white phosphorus inside. The pyrotechnic tube will be activated, and this kind of flame can't be extinguished even with water." Julian Sergey carefully pointed out how to operate the device.

"Don't worry, Comrade Julian, I know the importance of it. If I unfortunately die on the road, I swear that I will destroy these documents before I can swallow my last breath." Serezha said to Julian solemnly. Guaranteed.

"You will have a safe journey and our sacred cause will be successful. When the victory comes, we will drink wine together."

"Of course, Comrade Julian, we must be able to see the day when the red flag is planted all over the world." Sergey Sha poured the last vodka from the bottle into the glasses of the two.

"Ula!"

"Ula!"

Julian drank the spirits in the glass in one sip, and the two people's hands were held tightly together again.

ps: The second chapter is here. Looking back, I feel that the chapter names of these two chapters are not well, but as long as the content satisfies everyone, the name is just a code to find the chapter.

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