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Chapter 1206

Zaitsev walked along the dim corridor, passing one bunker after another built of various tables, chairs and benches. Behind these bunkers were soldiers and wounded, and some rooms on both sides were originally used as telegraph rooms and food storage rooms, but now they were full of people who needed treatment.

At the door of a room with an ammunition warehouse sign, the word "non-smoking" is marked in Russian. Two officers smoking were standing, carrying the helmets of ordinary soldiers and carrying Mosinnagan rifles. When they saw Zaitsev passing by, they stood at attention and saluted. Obviously, there was no ammunition in the room, and there was no need for banning fireworks here.

"Don't retreat! If the Germans break in, fight as much as possible until the last moment!" Zaitsev kept walking deeper and spoke to the soldiers left behind on both sides. His words swam in the corridor, accompanied by his own footsteps.

The ammunition was almost completely exhausted, and the only few machine guns were almost destroyed in the fierce battle outside just now. Now the soldiers guarding here are nothing more than some submachine guns and rifles. Only God can know whether the German army can be prevented from advancing. Zaitsev did not intend to count on them to hold on for how long, because he was just holding on to a promise to Stalin.

He promised Stalin to stick to the last moment, and that he must stick to the last moment. As long as Zaitsev is still alive in this world, what he is stepping on is the territory of the Soviet Union! He carried a rifle and walked step by step through the soldiers standing on both sides of the corridor. Some soldiers ran towards the door with ammunition boxes, while some people were trying their best to strengthen the various covers around them.

Suddenly, a man in a shirt ran over and grabbed Zaitsev. He looked in a panic in the direction of the entrance and begged in a trembling voice: "The Germans are already above our heads! Comrade Zaitsev! Comrade Stalin has left us. Now we continue to resist, what is the effect?"

This person, Zaitsev, knew him, an aide to Stalin, and had given Stalin several good economic reform suggestions. But in this state of war, who would care about an economic reform proposal that changes people's livelihood? Zaitsev stopped, looked at the other party and frowned. Instead of answering the other party's words, he asked: "Where is your gun? Everyone here must fight to the end, why don't you take weapons?"

"I am just a consultant, Zaitsev! You know me, I have never fired a gun, nor have I been trained." The consultant was innocent and innocent. He looked like a rich man with a very high education and never suffered any hardship. He begged Zaitsev, but because of his nervousness, he was far less powerful than the momentum he had seen the world when he talked about the application of economics in front of Stalin.

Zaitsev stared at the other party's eyes, suddenly stretched out his arm and pressed it on the other party's shoulder: "Oh? So, you are sure you have no combat ability, you are just a civilian? You have never trained and have no ability to learn, so you don't have to fight anymore, just wait here to wait for the war to end, will you leave with a decent departure?"

The consultant thought Zaitsev was really easy to talk to, and he said what he wanted to express so reasonably. He nodded excitedly, and almost hugged the other party and said that when he surrendered, I would invite you to a French dinner.

But when he was about to thank Zaitsev, he suddenly felt something sharp piercing into his stomach, so he lowered his head and saw Zaitsev holding a dagger in his hand, and the other end of the dagger was buried deep in his white shirt. Blood instantly poured out along the bloodletting groove on the dagger and began to spread on the white cloth. The consultant raised his head with difficulty and saw Zaitsev's distorted face.

"For why" the consultant wanted to know the reason why the other party suddenly took action, but the pain made him struggle even to speak. He reached out to grab Zaitsev's clothes, but found that he had no strength to lift his arm. He staggered a moment, then turned over to the ground, and the dagger pulled out of his liver, tearing the wound even more huge.

In the end, the man who had made great achievements in the economic field closed his eyes in pain on the ground, surrounded by soldiers and officers watching the fun. Zaitsev held a dagger full of blood in his hand, then looked at the corpse on the ground coldly and said, "Since you are not able to fight, I will finish you with my own hands."

Outside the Kremlin palace wall, in a simple command center surrounded by more than a dozen trucks and armored vehicles, more than a dozen senior German generals were standing in front of a German marshal, quarreling fiercely. Everyone was excited, as if this was a very important thing for them.

"It should be the Kremlin that our 1st Armored Grenadier Division took the lead in attacking, right? We lost 90 soldiers in the battle, so what a joke." A German commander looked at Marshal Lundstedt in front of him and complained angrily.

Another officer also pointed to the location on the map and said to Lundstedt: "We have been attacking this direction for so many days, but in the end, in order to cooperate with the SS's special forces, they gave up their positions and let them perform once?"

Lundstedt was also very helpless because in the pre-script, his troops should be on standby a few blocks away, but because the Soviet Union deployed its defenses nearby were too weak, so before he could issue an order to stop the attack, his troops had already entered the Kremlin.

"The Head of State has not yet known that we have occupied this Soviet palace. Two or three blocks behind us, the SS troops are still preparing various equipment. Various cameras, journalists, and even the national flag-mounted troops are ready for new uniforms." An officer in charge of contacting the special forces said to Lundstedt with his hands behind his back: "You know the meaning of the SS to the Head of State. It is absolutely a happy thing for the Head of State to be able to attack the Kremlin first."

"Maybe, but I think no matter which unit, the German team will capture the Kremlin, it will be something that the head of state is happy about." After all, Lundstedt was a German marshal. He was very majestic when he spoke, and there was no voice on the SS officers, so the generals of the National Defense Forces here were even more confident.

But Lundstedt is now in a difficult situation, and he feels like he is a dumb man who is suffering from Coptis chinensis. He will undoubtedly offend the SS forces, and may also make the head of state behind the SS feel unpleasant and unhappy. For a moment, he really doesn't know how to choose.

"Long live the head of state! Your Excellency Marshal!" An officer jumped out of the armored command vehicle with a telegram, ran past several electromechanical and electrical officers like lightning. He stood in front of Marshal Lundstedt, stood attentively and saluted: "Call from the Supreme Command!"

"Read!" Lundstedt unknowingly felt sweat flowing out of his forehead. He was a little nervous now, afraid that some sentences would appear in the telegram that would embarrass him. After all, the SS has always regarded himself as the head of state, and not to mention that the original script was arranged in the order of attack.

"My Marshal, you Marshal, are you sure you want to continue reading?" The officer held the telegram, looked embarrassed, and asked the marshal in front of him. The officers around him all raised their ears, wanting to hear the opinions from the head of state.

"Read!" Lundstedt took a deep breath, and didn't care about his old face anymore, and waved his hand to signal the other party to continue.

"My Marshal, are you stupid?" After reading the telegram, the officer looked up at Lundstedt and saw a helpless look on the other party's somewhat miserable face.

Seeing that the other party did not interrupt his reading, the officer had to continue reading: "Which unit that attacked the Kremlin will be recorded in history! This is the honor of our soldiers, how can we give up? If there are some soft animals in the Group A Army, get out of here again! Head of State Akado Rudolph."

God’s turn! This is God’s turn. After Lundstedt heard Akado’s scolding, he felt for the first time that the head of state on his head was so angry with him. This is the head of state that came out of the National Defense Forces, the head of state that he has always been willing to support, and the future emperor who is admirable to the ground!

Lundstedt took the message, then smiled and folded the paper carefully in half, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then the German defense marshal walked to the SS officer, reached out and patted the other party's arm and said, "We are all soldiers of the head of state, so there is no need to argue endlessly over this little thing, right?"

Half an hour later, on a half-declined tower in the Kremlin, more than a dozen German Wehrmacht soldiers, mixed with three or five soldiers in SS uniforms, worked together to spread a huge German 10,000-word flag on the top of the building in the wind.

This moment was recorded by dozens of reporters carrying various cameras and video recorders. The most beautiful one was named "One All" and was published on the front page of the German Daily three days later.
Chapter completed!
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