Chapter 108: Those Lonely Heroes
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“Extra! Extra! Reichstag Building set on fire last night! Suspect captured by police! Come and read all about it!” a newsboy shouted on the street, waving the newspaper in his hand.
Not far away, faint smoke still rose from the burned-out shell of the Reichstag Building. Its once greyish-white facade was now scarred with black marks, its windows were shattered, and its main doors hung half-open. Just days ago, this building was one of the most powerful places in Germany; now, it showed no trace of its former dignity and grandeur.
Around the building, several fire trucks were still parked haphazardly. Soldiers of the Wehrmacht stood at attention with rifles, separating the scene of the incident from the crowd of onlookers. Inside the cordon was a hellish silence; outside, the bustling world of the living.
“I’ll take a paper,” said a middle-aged man in the dress uniform of a British naval officer. He handed the newsboy a fine coin and said gently, “Keep the change.”
The newsboy was delighted to accept the shilling. He stuffed the newspaper into the foreigner’s hand and added enthusiastically, “The criminal is having a public trial this afternoon. If you have time, sir, you should go see it! A friend with good sources told me it was the Communists who burned our Reichstag. They’re going to attack us.”
The British officer patted the little boy’s head, then smiled, turned, and got into the car behind him. He opened the newspaper and began to read it in detail.
“Colonel Smith, do you really believe this is an attack by the Communists?” asked his driver, who also served as his aide, turning around with a frown.
“Only if those fools, who don’t even have guns, have water on the brain,” Smith replied without looking up, turning a page of the paper. “Those Communists are fanatical and have firm beliefs—that’s what makes them formidable. But those qualities don’t prove they’re stupid.”
“A frame-up?” the aide pressed, his brow furrowed.
“Not quite. It’s not difficult to trick a few hot-headed idiots into doing something foolish. If we needed to, it wouldn’t be impossible to get a Communist to burn down Buckingham Palace,” Smith said with a cold laugh, bending three fingers one by one. “The key is ‘who,’ ‘how,’ and ‘how they leverage’ this incident.”
“Could it be related to Akado?” the aide asked.
“Drop the ‘could it be’ and state it as a fact, and you’ll be pretty much right,” Smith said, folding the newspaper and tossing it onto the seat beside him. “It looks like he’s planning to move against the Communists, which is exactly what we want to see. He’s a clever man. Sometimes, I really have to admire him. He knows what we need and always throws us a bone just when we’re about to lose all patience with his outrageous behavior.”
“Aren’t we rearing a tiger that will cause trouble later?” the aide asked another question that intrigued him.
“We have to… there’s no other choice,” Smith said with a sigh. “Sometimes I really envy the Americans. They don’t have to worry too much about what happens on the other side of the ocean. They can just wait until everything is destroyed and then come in to clean up the mess. We’re different. We’re afraid of shattering everything we have, so we must raise this mad dog Akado. When necessary, he can bite the Soviets and intimidate the French. That’s the only way to guarantee the British Empire’s fundamental interests on the continent.”
In truth, both Britain and France were aware of Germany’s rearmament plans; the only difference was in how much they knew. The reason everyone had remained passive was due to their own entangled interests, not because their intelligence officers were a bunch of incompetents. Smith knew that, on many occasions, British intelligence even had to help the Germans create false pretenses to deceive the French, all to allow Germany to gain the strength to challenge France’s hegemony on the continent.
As a basic tenet of British national policy, its diplomacy and military had always strived to maintain a balance of power among the nations of Europe. The outcome this country had always hoped for was similar to what the Americans achieved: Germany and France would beat each other bloody, and Britain would step in at the end to pick up the pieces. In the last war, they supported France to challenge Germany. In the next war, it would be best if Germany and France could annihilate each other without Britain having to get its own hands dirty.
“To the courthouse. Although there’s nothing we can do, we can still watch the show,” Smith said with a helpless shake of his head.
Akado sat in the last row of the courtroom, staring at the man in the defendant’s dock, his thoughts unreadable. At his side, Anna held his left arm, the very picture of a devoted partner.
The man in the dock was somewhat thin but appeared to be in high spirits. His grey trench coat was a little old and dirty, suggesting he had put up a struggle during his arrest, but now, in handcuffs, he was remarkably calm, his chin held high with a touch of arrogance.
“I suddenly feel it’s a pity for a man like this to die,” Gascoigne said, looking at the man in the dock with a hint of regret.
“It is a pity. If he agreed, I would genuinely want to recruit him into the SS. A man like this has unwavering faith and is unyielding. Sometimes I get the illusion that he’s a Germanic man,” Heydrich lamented from the side.
Akado still said nothing, merely staring at the man on trial, his expression numb, yet solemn.
“Defendant Flokhovsky,” the judge, looking ancient and decrepit in his spectacles, spoke in a voice like an imperfectly castrated eunuch. “Do you admit your involvement in the arson at the Reichstag Building last night?”
“I admit it,” Flokhovsky said, shaking the shackles on his wrists. “As a Communist, it is my life’s ambition to burn down a den of capitalism! One day, Bolshevism will liberate all of humanity!”
He pointed at the observers in the gallery, his gaze sweeping over them. “You exploiting class who only know how to live for yourselves! As long as we Communists live, we will fight you to the very end! Are you regretting now that you didn’t silence me before letting me appear in court? My speech is your death knell!”
He straightened his spine even further. “My trial today is unjust! It is arrogant and reactionary! I swear here today that you murderers who judge me will yourselves be judged by the people tomorrow! You will be sent to the guillotine by the people! On that day, there will be a monument to me in the square, while you will be nothing but stinking corpses!”
No one knew what was going through Akado’s mind at that moment. Looking at this Communist named Flokhovsky, Akado was suddenly reminded of Sister Jiang from Red Crag and of Yang Jingyu, whose stomach was found filled only with cotton fluff. He had once doubted the existence of proletarian warriors who could ignore any physical attack through faith alone, but now, seeing the man before him, he came face to face with that moving perseverance.
He now began to believe that such people truly existed. It was an inexplicable ideal. These people breathed for the dream in their hearts; they believed they could bring hope to their compatriots and their motherland. They used the foolish method of setting themselves ablaze to prove their nation still had a soul.
In fact, many nations, many eras, and many stories had such people. People like Seeckt, who single-handedly revived the Wehrmacht; Hindenburg, who tolerated him until the very end for the future of the German people; Mr. Karl Benz, who supported the idea of industrial rejuvenation until the end of his life; and all those who had followed him on his journey, their hearts filled with Germany.
Every nation had its heroes. These people gave their all for their country, for their people, for a future only they could see. People like Ran Min, who stood against a million invaders; people like the young Joan of Arc, who raised her battle standard high.
These people were stubborn to the point of being terrifying, hateful, lovable, and respectable. They were stubborn to the point of being epic and moving.
“May you rest in peace. I will ensure your contribution is engraved in the long scroll of history, I promise,” Akado murmured. He stood up and walked away without looking back. Behind him followed Anna, Gascoigne, Reinhard Heydrich—the most brutal, loyal, and devout followers of this era.
The moment they walked out of the courthouse, the judge’s shrill voice tore through the air behind them: “Since the criminal has confessed to the crime and the evidence is conclusive, I hereby declare defendant Flokhovsky guilty of arson, guilty of attempted murder, guilty of destroying a vital national symbolic building…”
Akado walked mechanically outward, shedding a piece of his admiration and pity with every step. As he made his way out, he brushed past the late-arriving Colonel Smith. Smith nodded in acknowledgment, and Akado returned the gesture with a smile. Everything seemed so natural.
“Regardless of the final charges, carry out the execution by firing squad immediately,” Akado ordered as he reached the main entrance, his voice no longer holding a trace of hesitation.
Gascoigne nodded.
Stopping on the steps, Akado looked up at the sky above the courthouse. The sunlight was a bit too bright, forcing him to squint. “Since you admire him, give him a quick end. Don’t create any extra complications.”
Gascoigne was taken aback for a second, then smiled. “Yes, sir!”
Akado continued down the steps, pulling on his leather gloves and draping the black overcoat Anna handed him over his shoulders as he walked.
He didn’t speak again until he was beside his car. “Reinhard, begin the task I gave you immediately. Have no pity, and leave no loose ends! All actions must be completed with the utmost speed.”
“So urgent, sir?” Reinhard Heydrich asked, raising an eyebrow. He had to ask, because haste led to more trouble, and while such trouble might not be fatal, it would require a great deal of energy to handle.
“Stalin will get news soon, and he won’t sit idly by. I believe our old friend Tukhachevsky will be on his way in a few days. When that happens, we’ll have to show him some courtesy, and we won’t be able to act so freely.”
