Battle of the Third Reich

"Hi, are you deaf? Do you understand what I said? Documents and documents." The sergeant of the military police rubbed his fat fingers at Julian.

The rear door of the car opened on the side of Julian, and an Italian military policeman slowly climbed off the car and stood on the side of the car with a holster on his waist. He looked at the "North African" in front of him with an expression of disapproval. .

Julian's appearance at the moment has completely changed. He is a native of southern France, with a slightly curly black hair and beautiful dark brown eyes. It is said that his family ancestors have Spanish origin, but they look even longer. Like a Greek.

Julian's face was thin, with a conspicuous aquiline nose, his smooth cheeks were now covered with shaggy beards, the hot sun tanned his skin, and every pore and wrinkle on his face was covered with In addition to the gray dust, this is a gift given by the great Sahara to every traveler.

The French are now wearing a gray Arab robe with poor texture, wearing sandals woven with leather straps, a dirty blue-gray turban wrapped around their heads, and a thick cloth rucksack used by locals on their shoulders. Symmetrical walkers can be conveniently placed on the backs of saddles and camels, and are generally used to store food and personal sundries.

After some elaborate disguise, at first glance it looks just like ordinary Papaar civilians.

"Oh, I understand, sir, I certainly have the documents." Julian hurriedly rummaged through the ruffles with a look of fear and panic, and then took out a crumpled cardboard to deliver Sergeant Sergeant.

Obtaining this official ID issued by the Italian colony did not cost Julian much energy. As long as you pay the price this year, you can get all the things you want from the Italian officials.

"Hassan Doliani Giuseppe?" Sergeant Gendarmerie looked at the dirty piece of paper. Like most ID documents at that time, there were only records such as name and origin, and no photos were posted.

In the 1930s and 1940s, ordinary IDs rarely had a photo column, and even many military IDs did not need to post photos, so it gave people a lot of loopholes for people who need to fake their identities.

"Yes, sir." Julian spoke fluent Italian.

"It looks okay. It has the official seal of the local police station." The sergeant gendarme handed the document to his colleagues in the co-pilot's seat.

"From Zavia? You ran quite far." Sergeant Gendarmerie leaned against the window and asked Julian.

"I heard that workers are needed here, so I want to come and see if I can get a job that can make a lot of money, sir." Julian replied respectfully.

"It looks like you're pretty good, are you Italian?" Sergeant Gendarmerie asked Julian with an arrogant look, because no matter how he disguised, the subtle differences in appearance could not be hidden.

However, the sergeant gendarmes did not feel suspicious. Italy has colonized Africa for decades. I don’t know how many poor Italians ran to this land to try their luck, and many of them Immigrants are like the man in front of them. They are finally completely Arabized and integrated into the local tribe. Of course, more of them are eventually turned into beggars, scammers and professional thieves.

"I was born in Zavia, my father is Italian and my mother is local." Julian replied with a nod. This is the identity that the liaison has arranged for him, in order to explain his western face very well once he encounters this situation.

"Fabrizo, go up and search for this guy." The sergeant Gendarmerie took the ID card back from the co-pilot's hand, and turned to face the gendarmes standing by the car and ordered.

"Hi, head, why is it me again, this guy stinks like a pile of pig dung." The gendarmerie waved his arm while complaining, emphasizing his dissatisfaction with rich body language.

"Don't force me to say it a second time, to see if this guy has any prohibited items on him." The sergeant Gendarmerie directly dismissed his subordinates' opinions.

"Okay, commander. Now, you filthy guy, be honest with me, and stand over there." The gendarmerie stepped forward helplessly, pushing Julian firmly.

Just the next second, the gendarmerie's head exploded suddenly under the eyes of everyone. The hot blood was mixed with the intramedullary medullary fluid, wrapped in a pile of messy brain tissue, and immediately spattered out. Julian looked at him.

Everyone, including Julian, was stunned by the scene before them. Everything happened so fast that they did not even understand what was going on at the moment.

"Hey, what the **** are you doing!" The sergeant Gendarmerie pushed the car door and jumped out of the car. He pulled out the pistol from the holster, pointing to the **** face. Now it looked like The evil Julian crawled out of hell.

The Frenchman hasn't been relieved from the terrible experience just now. Although he once joined the army and shot himself, he saw a person's head smashed at such a close distance. This is still His first experience in his life.

So the French looked at the sergeant of the Italian Gendarmerie dully, and he looked completely incomprehensible.

"God, God, benevolent Lord." The corporal corporal on the co-pilot ran to the corpse, and then was frightened by the tragic image of the corpse. The corporal screamed like a woman, at a loss. In a circle around the body.

"What did you do to my subordinates, raise your hands so that I can see clearly, you bastard." The sergeant sergeant recognized that the man in front of him was tricky, but he didn't know what the other party was doing. At the time of the incident, no gunshots were heard at all.

"Fire, sergeant, fire fast, he is a wizard, this is evil African sorcery." Corporal Corporal screamed sharply.

"Shut up, Masmiliano, I will make everything clear. You will hand me over to this guy right now." Sergeant Gendarmerie ordered.

"Get rid of the remaining two gendarmerie, and you can't let the target fall into the hands of the Italians now." The robe man in the duo who was watching on the roof in the distance ordered.

"No problem, that's why I like this job." The sniper gently pulled the trigger, the bullet passed through the metal silencer, and the gunshot seemed dull.

"Very good, hit the head, very beautiful." At this time they are only 300 meters away from the target, and the accuracy of the shooting can be guaranteed.

"The remaining one wants to run away and kill him." The robe man ordered calmly.

The gendarme corporal watched his boss fall in front of him, and at the same time he heard a loud noise in his ear. By this time he finally understood that it was not witchcraft at all, but someone was using a gun Shooting at them, he immediately realized that he might be the next target of the mysterious gunman. Corporal Corps Corps quickly turned around and hurried towards the car.

But before he even ran two steps away, his figure suddenly stumbled, and then his legs fell softly to the ground, and soon a large pool of the gendarme flowed out. The blood, the pool of blood slowly spread to stain a large tarred asphalt road.

Julian until the last gendarmerie fell to the ground and died, and finally finally reacted. As a result, he looked around and suddenly found that he was the only one on the whole street. Looking at the three corpses of the Italian Gendarmerie in front of him, he knew he was in a huge trouble again.

Julian doesn't know who the gunman killed them, but it is clear that this person should be on his side, because if the other party just shot in time, the important information files that he carried may have fallen into Italy. The hands are on, and the hopes placed on him by countless comrades and comrades-in-arms may be lost to this.

After setting his mind, Julian felt that he should leave this ghost place immediately. Who knows if the local people who escaped will report to the Italian authorities that these killed were not ordinary policemen, but the famous Italian military police The elite troops Mussolini most trusts and relies on, they will never let go of their directly present party. Julian couldn't take care of cleaning up the messy face, he covered his face with a turban hem, spread his legs and rushed into a narrow alley on the street.

"It's really a clever guy, although the previous reaction made people feel a bit unbearable." The robe man put down his telescope.

"What should we do now, the target number three has not yet appeared." The sniper retracted the rifle and removed the muffler on the muzzle.

"We leave here first. In this case, we can only use the preparatory plan." The robe man picked up the bag on the side and handed it to the sniper.

"The Italians will not respond very quickly. From receiving the report to mobilizing the troops to search, we have enough time to operate." The robe man put the telescope into the cloth bag.

"Relax, I just saw that the people in Group C have followed up. As long as this man is helped to escape the Italian search, Target 3 will find him by himself. Think about it. Where did you take the vacation?" The long-distance man patted the sniper's arm.

"Whereever you go, as long as it's cooler than here." The sniper replied with a smile.