Chapter 1042: Our Sincerity

In a dim cell, Mussolini stared blankly at the cracks in the ceiling. He was being held in the basement of a villa, not far from where he had been captured. He didn’t know why the Germans hadn’t immediately transported him back to Rome, or taken him to Berlin.

Just as his thoughts were running wild, the basement door was pulled open from the outside. A man in an Italian army uniform walked into the cell with a smile. The man’s chest was covered in medals, and he looked even more imposing than when Mussolini had been in power.

“Are you accustomed to living here, my great leader, Mr. Mussolini?” Marshal Garibaldi asked with a smile, his hands clasped behind his back. He was admiring his former superior, Mussolini, who was now a prisoner, as if he were admiring a work of art he had completed.

Mussolini glanced at this self-satisfied former Italian Army Marshal, gave a cold snort, and did not speak. His meaning was very clear: his opponent was the German Führer, Akado, not this former subordinate who was now swaggering in front of him. He wouldn’t even deign to speak to him, because he looked down on this fickle little man who had betrayed all of Italy.

He felt that if it hadn’t been for this traitor, Marshal Garibaldi, defecting to Akado, then he would have been the winner in this operation to withdraw from the Axis. Italy would have been able to safely exit the world war and become a neutral, free country.

“Can you guess why you are being held in this obscure little place, and not sent back to Berlin or Rome?” Garibaldi, seemingly unconcerned by Mussolini’s disregard, continued to talk about the topic that interested him. “Think about it. If it weren’t for you, a genius who was just asking to be killed, how could I, Garibaldi, be where I am today?”

“So what if you’re sitting in my seat today? You’re nothing but a dog raised by that German Führer, Akado!” Mussolini finally spoke, his eyes having adjusted to the light that was filtering in from the doorway. He frowned and said sarcastically, “I’m not like you! I am, at least, the leader of a country! The leader of a once-independent country!”

“No, no, no! I wouldn’t dare to sit in your seat,” Garibaldi said, waving his hand, denying that he had become the new leader of Italy. He seemed to have a great sense of accomplishment about this matter and explained with some pride, “Italy is in a special period right now. It’s a military government. This government is led by me, Marshal Garibaldi. There is no such thing as a messy leader or anything.”

He pointed to the rather well-made Iron Cross on his chest and continued, “You see, I appreciate my other identity more: an honorary citizen of Germany, with an Iron Cross personally awarded by the Führer.”

As he spoke, Garibaldi looked at Mussolini with a somewhat shameless expression. “In your hands, I was nothing more than a dog! Everyone was just a dog you raised! But I was smarter. I knew it was better to be the dog of a winner than the dog of a loser. At least the outcome is a little better.”

Mussolini looked at Garibaldi, who was in front of him, looking rather pleased with himself. An inexplicable anger erupted from within him. He gritted his teeth and roared at this man, who looked like a small-time villain who had just made it big. “You bastard! If it weren’t for you scheming behind the scenes, Italy would have withdrawn from the war with dignity! How many people would have welcomed peace? I just wanted to seek the greatest benefit for my country, and you? You don’t understand anything, you idiot! You’ve destroyed Italy’s hope of a peaceful withdrawal from the war! Destroyed it!”

He had worked hard all his life for the strength of Italy. In the eyes of outsiders, he might be a despicable, unscrupulous dictator, but he truly had the position and the dream of an old-generation Italian statesman. The sad thing was that these dreams and this position had left him with no choice but to take his current path, and had pushed him further and further down this road.

For the sake of Italy’s efforts, or rather, in Mussolini’s own view, all the efforts he had made for Italy were correct. For this persistence and this ideal, he was willing to take a risk, to give up the fame and fortune that was within his grasp. This sounded very noble, but behind the scenes, it was just that what he was pursuing was different.

Hitler was a vegetarian. Himmler was even called a model husband by those who were familiar with his private life. When they treated racism as hunting animals, this group of madmen had even brought up the gas chambers in the concentration camps as a topic of discussion at the dinner table. When they were not committing crimes, they were almost all as good as the old grandmother next door. And Mussolini was also this kind of person. What he pursued was power and fame, the kind of absolute ruling power that would never be subordinate to anyone.

“Have you ever thought about what would happen if we won the war?” Garibaldi asked, looking at the enraged Mussolini. This was the main purpose of his visit. He liked to see his former superior be provoked, to be angered by his success and his surpassing of him. This was an indelible sense of accomplishment. He enjoyed the thrill that this reversal had brought.

Like Mussolini, Garibaldi was also gambling. Mussolini had placed his bet on Italy’s swaying back and forth and getting something for nothing. He, Garibaldi, on the other hand, had bet his entire fortune on the German Führer, Akado. He was certain that this German Führer, who was known as God’s gift, would ultimately win the war.

As long as Germany completed its foreign expansion and became the world’s number one power, then America’s political status would be infinitely marginalized. Germany would become the de facto master of the entire world. At that time, Italy, this little follower of the Axis, would naturally be promoted to the position of number two in the world.

Or, more ideally, they would join this “Greater Europe” group, merge into the great family of the European Empire, and become the true masters of this world. For thousands of years, the dream of unifying Europe, which every European monarch had longed for, was about to be realized in the near future. As a co-operator of the highest standard, Garibaldi would, in the new Greater European system, at the very least be a candidate for the first chancellor or vice-führer.

Completely different from Mussolini, Marshal Garibaldi, who had always been subordinate, did not at all see being a henchman for Akado as a humiliation. On the contrary, he saw an infinitely bright future: to be a dog for a dictator of Italy was definitely not as comfortable as being a chancellor for all of Europe. Even if this deputy or chancellor was just a virtual title, it was still a virtual title that was second to one and superior to ten thousand, wasn’t it?

Thinking of this, he no longer paid any attention to the somewhat astonished Mussolini. He walked to the door and then continued, “I asked you just now, and you still haven’t answered my question. Since you fancy yourself as a supreme genius, then take a guess… why are you being held in this obscure little place, and not sent back to Berlin or Rome?”

His tone was full of ridicule. He didn’t wait for Mussolini to answer, but began to answer himself, “Because whether it’s His Majesty the King, or me, the ruler of this military government, or that Imperial Führer who is holding the fort in Berlin… none of us want you to return to any center of power… so you no longer have a future.”

“Impossible! Don’t think I don’t know! This must be because you are afraid, afraid that I will go back and take your position! It won’t take much, just give me one hour, and I’m confident I can replace you! You’re just afraid of this!” Mussolini laughed mockingly at Garibaldi. “As long as I’m around, you will always be just a backup plan!”

“In fact, it’s a great pity. Leader Mr. Mussolini… please allow me to call you that one last time.” Garibaldi turned around at the door and looked at Mussolini. “The ones who captured you were the German special forces. I’m sure you’ve heard of this unit… the 0th SS Division, a special operations unit that is absolutely loyal to the Führer. Do you think that as a spokesperson for a puppet regime, I can command these personal guards of the Führer, who normally don’t even pay any attention to the Wehrmacht’s generals?”

Mussolini was taken aback. After a long while, he seemed to have lost all his strength and sat back down on the edge of his cot. He knew Garibaldi had no need to lie to him. The Führer, far away in Berlin, had no intention of seeing him again. The speech he had been so full of hope to prepare, to persuade the other when they met, now seemed to be just wishful thinking.

Walking out of the door, a German major general watched as Garibaldi took a cigarette from his case and, with a smile, held out a very beautiful lighter. He flicked the wheel on the lighter, and a dancing flame ignited. Garibaldi took a drag, and the cigarette at his lips was lit.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, as if he had let go of something, and nodded his thanks with a smile. “Thank you.”

The major general, who looked very burly, gave a short laugh. “We are friends, are we not, Marshal Garibaldi? If we are friends, there is no need for such ceremony. You will sooner or later find out that to become a friend of mine, Otto Skorzeny, is a very worthwhile thing. We will do many things for our friends, and we will also consider our friends’ feelings. The Führer has asked me to tell you not to worry about our cooperation. Today, we will show you our sincerity.”

After he had said this, he said no more, but the two SS officers who were standing behind him, with their hands behind their backs, immediately began their preparations. The two of them put on their gloves, then drew their pistols from their waists and, with straight faces, walked into Mussolini’s cell.

“Long live Italy!” In the room, the desperate Mussolini shouted his last words. And then there were four crisp gunshots: “Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!” Then the two men walked out of the cell and gave Skorzeny a slight nod.

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