Chapter 284: Small Figures
Ring, ring.
The sound of the telephone was particularly jarring amid the pouring rain.
Churchill knew who the call came from.
The King.
Germany's appeasement after victory was like a viper whose fangs had already sunk into the skin, yet still hesitated to inject its venom.
All of it was for the sake of a Britain that had not yet been poisoned, a Britain that could quickly resume production after surrender.
Churchill severed the phone line.
Then he exhaled a cloud of smoke.
Gazing at the torrential rain outside the window, he said to his secretary, "Take me to the broadcasting station."
"I believe Britain's proud spirit of resistance will not disappear merely because we must now fight alongside the Russians."
In the early hours of morning, the people of London were startled awake by the sudden blaring of radios.
The night, which had briefly become peaceful because Germany had called off its air raids, was once again thrown into uncertainty by an incoming speech.
Inside a cheap apartment, Hunter turned the volume knob on his radio.
He had hoped to hear good news.
Peace.
A united Europe.
Or perhaps the collapse of the Churchill government.
But what followed was not peace.
It was resistance.
Damned, cursed resistance.
As a student who had once participated in protests against the Churchill government, Hunter loathed that fat pig from the bottom of his heart.
Britain could have become Germany's ally.
It could have marched alongside the world, one ruling land, the other commanding the sea.
That window of opportunity had truly existed.
But Churchill had destroyed it.
And now, he was prattling on about fighting together with Soviet Russia.
It was simply absurdly stupid.
There was not a single word of truth coming from that damned fat man's mouth.
If he wanted to fight alongside Soviet Russia, then why had he not brought back the prisoners of war released by Germany first?
Was it not because he feared they would expose his secrets?
Cowardly.
Weak.
A lying bastard.
Every life lost in the war against Germany should be counted at Churchill's feet.
After chugging two mouthfuls of beer, Hunter heard the door knocked open.
A blond youth covered in tattoos walked in and angrily threw a beer bottle aside.
"Hunter."
"The Churchill government is ridiculously ignorant."
"We lost the naval war. We lost the land battle in Portugal."
"And now they still want us to continue resisting."
"Resisting for whom?"
His voice grew sharper.
"To keep resisting for Soviet Russia?"
"Why should we sacrifice our lives for Soviet Russia?"
"We must do something."
"If we let the Churchill government continue acting recklessly, all of England will cease to exist."
"Once Europe and Britain are both beaten until they are exhausted, the Russians will take our final ration and shamelessly claim it is in service of an ideal."
Stirred by alcohol, Hunter nodded repeatedly.
"But organizing a protest will be monitored by those damned secret agents."
"No, no, no."
The blond youth shook his head.
"Not a protest."
"We need an army."
"An army capable of resistance."
"We will use this army to storm Buckingham Palace."
"Only then will they know we are not joking."
"The will of the people cannot be suppressed by lies and violence."
"I have already contacted several other underground anti-government organizations in London."
"They share our view."
"As for weapons, a naval officer has offered us a reasonable price."
Churchill's words did not only affect student groups who considered themselves enlightened.
They also offended half of the aristocratic and capitalist systems that already disliked him.
Some officials even approached Chamberlain, hoping he would return to politics and advocate surrender.
They promised that after Britain surrendered, Chamberlain would serve as Prime Minister of the peace government.
After Chamberlain rejected them, the dove faction approached Sempill and repeated the same offer to him.
Sempill readily agreed.
However, after the Black Lion Plan, he had long since been noticed by MI6.
The next morning, Churchill personally issued an arrest order and swept up the newly formed British Peace Party in one blow.
But this did nothing to improve the atmosphere of surrender spreading throughout Britain.
Because many aristocrats had been arrested, a large number of noble politicians who had previously supported Churchill also began to believe that he had been brainwashed by the Soviet Russian government.
During the routine midday parliamentary session, they angrily denounced Churchill, claiming that he had made a dangerous friend.
Ironically, the only ones supporting Churchill now were members of the British Labour Party, who had always been at odds with him before the war.
At this point, the only forces still standing with Churchill on the side of resistance were the military high command and the governors of the colonies.
And their support was based purely on interest.
The military leadership feared that after surrender, Germany would purge them or use treaties to reduce their power.
But they did not support Churchill's strategy of fighting to the end on the homeland, because they believed the British Isles could no longer resist.
One after another, they found various excuses to go to Canada and inspect tank production lines.
The colonial governors wanted to maintain their local rule.
Since they were already overseas, naturally, they would not provide Churchill with any timely assistance.
Yet Churchill remained firm in his strategy of fighting to the end.
Using the authority of the wartime cabinet, he forcibly ordered the Far East Fleet to garrison the English Channel.
Britain had become a pile of dry firewood.
A single spark would burn it to the ground.
At eight o'clock that evening, that fire was silently ignited by a few small figures.
Inside a truck parked at the side of the road, a dozen or so young people were distributing submachine guns.
"Hold onto them."
The blond youth's eyes were bloodshot with excitement.
"If we succeed, we will become heroes of England, warriors who saved countless lives."
"Even if we fail, Britain will remember us as fighters who resisted Churchill's cruel tyranny."
The blond youth wrapped a black and red armband around his shoulder.
The others followed him and did the same.
But in reality, most of them did not truly know what they wanted.
Nor did they know what to do if the operation actually succeeded.
Their courage came entirely from the rebellious spirit unique to youth and from that fairy-tale belief that small figures could change the world.
Only Noka was different.
This brown-haired, ordinary-looking young man was one of the sub-agents developed by German spies.
"For peace."
Noka shouted loudly.
"For peace."
The others echoed him.
The truck drove all the way toward Buckingham Palace.
Because German missiles were attacking again, the shrill sound of air-raid sirens filled the surrounding streets.
The Royal Guards responsible for guarding Buckingham Palace never expected anyone to carry out such a mad plan during a bombardment.
So there was no obstruction.
The truck smoothly reached the square opposite Buckingham Palace.
Only the Royal Guards on routine patrol near the gate sensed that something was wrong and began preparing to approach for inspection.
Bang!
A missile struck the chapel.
The guards' attention was instantly drawn to the explosion.
In the next second, Noka vaulted off the truck and pulled the trigger on the guards.
Rat-tat-tat.
The muzzle flashes were particularly blinding in the night.
The smell of gunpowder ignited the adrenaline of those youths.
One after another, they jumped down from the truck.
They pulled their triggers at every guard they could see.
Two of the youths could not bear it and turned to flee, abandoning this so-called great operation.
Meanwhile, the explosions from the bombardment covered the sound of their gunfire.
The guards inside the palace, focused entirely on the damage caused by the strike on Buckingham Palace, remained completely unaware.
They did not notice at all that a small squad had already broken through the gate and was pouring a hail of bullets toward the political heart of the country.
....
https://discord.gg/KvMN2CFsMR
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03].