The expeditionary force began to dominate Southeast Asia by recruiting defeated soldiers

Chapter 410 Doomsday Carnival

The sound of cannons in the distance was like rumbling thunder.

Bruce turned up the collar of his windbreaker and walked quickly past.

He had just sent someone to escort the panic-stricken Hergé to the west to the Allied-controlled area. With the note from Haussmann, they were temporarily unimpeded in the territory occupied by Hans.

There were few pedestrians on the street, and they looked panicked.

Several old women were walking hurriedly with baskets of vegetables on their backs, their eyes wandering; a man who looked like a priest was walking hurriedly across the intersection, his footsteps unusually clear in the empty street.

Brussels has long lost its former prosperity. The street corners are covered with surrender leaflets dropped by Allied planes, and the papers are flying and drifting like autumn leaves.

Several SS soldiers were patrolling the streets, dressed in black uniforms, but they had lost their former rebellious air.

They wore helmets, walked lazily, and looked tired. Some of them had cigarettes dangling from the corners of their mouths and glanced blankly at the street corners. They no longer had the enthusiasm of the past, and seemed to be aware of the impending defeat.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out across the street, and a pigeon flew into the sky in fright. The patrol team was startled and all squatted down to find cover, but they did not trace the source of the gunshot. In the end, they just continued to move forward cursing.

Several pedestrians even hid in the nearby corridor in a panic to avoid possible "spot checks" or "disappearances".

After the patrol team went away, Bruce left quickly and returned to the hotel.

In the room, under the dim light, a man was wearing an SS uniform, with his peaked cap hanging on the back of a chair, his collar loose, and a Luger P08 pistol on his waist. It was none other than SS Second Class Commander (equivalent to Wehrmacht Major) Hausmann.

It was obvious that the other party had been waiting for a long time.

"You did a good job." Bruce unbuttoned his windbreaker, smiled slightly, took out a brown envelope and pushed it onto the table. "This is the agreed-upon reward."

Bruce, who had successfully recruited countless frustrated engineers and veterans to the territory of the People's Army in the Apennine Peninsula, was naturally the head of this special intelligence team operation.

Thanks to Commissioner Smith, he now even has a genuine letter of commission and employment contract issued by the Pentagon.

However, only a few people in the special intelligence team know that they are serving the People's Security Army.

Hausman took the envelope flatteringly and opened it carefully. Inside was indeed a stack of newly printed green bills and a boat ticket with a gold-stamped edge.

He pulled out the bills, flipped through them, and then looked at the ticket carefully again: "Departing from Marseille in 12 days, direct to Buenos Aires, on the 'Lucky Star'... second class?"

Bruce said calmly, "Straight route, no stops. I've already made all the arrangements. The Allies won't send anyone aboard to inspect. As for how to cross the border to Marseille, I believe it shouldn't be a problem for a major like you, right?"

Houseman smiled. "The 'Lucky Star' of the South China Shipping Line? Second class? Well, thank you generous White Eagles."

Compared with the third-class cabin, the second-class cabin at least does not have a large bunk bed, so the conditions are naturally much better and much more expensive. Houseman thought that Bruce would only use a few third-class cabin tickets to fool him.

Now it seems that the rumors are true. The emerging United States is dominating Europe, waving a Garand semi-automatic rifle in one hand and banknotes in the other.

However, Europa veteran Hausman still revealed a hint of worry: "But, is this Nanhua Shipping reliable?"

Bruce said calmly, "This is the luxurious cruise ship 'Mediterranean Rose'. Even Mo's mistress praised it as a luxurious ship. What do you think?"

When Hausman heard this, his heart moved. The White Eagle man in front of him was very generous. Since he had already betrayed his motherland, why not sell him for a good price?

Hausman narrowed his eyes and whispered, "You're willing to pay this much for a Belgian cartoonist. How much would you be willing to pay me for... a genuine military missile?"

As he spoke, he made a money rubbing gesture with his right index finger and thumb, his face full of greed and suggestion.

Bruce's expression remained unchanged, but he was delighted in his heart.

This was exactly what he was planning. Of course, luring Hergé, the author of Tintin, to Yangon was just the appetizer for their collaboration.

He knew that people like Hausmann were common at the end of a war, their faith crumbling and their greed emerging. As long as they were given enough benefits, they would sell out anything—including their country, their colleagues, and even their own troops.

The envelope on the table was just a sweetener; now Hausman was about to reveal his cards.

Bruce leaned back in his chair and snorted nonchalantly, "V-2 missiles? Honestly, we already have a few."

Hausmann whispered, "Not only that, there's a secret launch site 30 kilometers north of the city. The superior commanding officer (Lieutenant Colonel) in charge of guarding it is a classmate of mine. He said that a few scientists from Berlin came to observe the launch, trying to figure out the V-2's yaw problem. Now that the Allies are about to attack, the area is in chaos, so those scientists are stranded at the launch site."

Bruce nodded calmly. Hans's V series rocket launch bases were not only located in the mainland, but also in many nearby places such as The Hague and Antwerp near the United Kingdom for attacking places like the Fog City.

What Hausman said must be true.

So he looked at Hausmann and asked tentatively, "Is von Braun here too?"

Houseman was amused. He smoothed his curly brown hair and said, "How could that be? They're just a bunch of little guys, apparently studying some kind of automatic... control science."

Bruce heard Houseman say a long word in Hansic and finally understood what he meant.

That group of scientists were most likely secondary researchers dispatched by the German Rocket Administration, responsible for improving the guidance system. He guessed that they were studying rocket attitude control and gyroscope guidance.

Whether it is the actual V-2 rocket or the scientists, they are good things that the Security Army urgently needs.

"Can you transport the V-2 rocket (actually a ballistic missile) and its physical form to a place outside Brussels and hide it there?"

At this time, the Allied vanguard was not far from Brussels. Bruce had a special pass issued by the Pentagon. He just had to keep an eye on the people in the chaos and then transport them slowly. At most, he could leave one or two missiles for the Pentagon to use as a handover.

"Of course, Army Group B has been retreating in great strides into the Netherlands. Now we, the SS, have the final say in this city!" Hausmann patted his chest proudly. He was not a chicken farmer or a loyal follower of the Führer. Why not make some extra money while running away?

Therefore, Hausmann felt no psychological burden of betrayal.

Bruce was also amused: "Eight first-class tickets and two complete luxury suites, is that enough for you and that lieutenant colonel to take your family and run away?"

As a synth, Bruce is only loyal to Zhang Chi and feels no guilt for letting Hausmann, an SS major who committed many evil things in Europe, escape in order to complete his mission.

"Of course, you have to move quickly. If the Allied forces enter the city first, I can't guarantee what those Johns and Maple Leafs will do to you."

At this time, John's 11th Armored Division, the Guards Armored Division and the Maple Leaf 1st Army were advancing rapidly towards Antwerp and Brussels, while Hans's Army Group B was in a state of defeat and had no intention of defending the city. The situation was in chaos everywhere.

Hausman put on his cap, tapped his heels hard, and saluted Bruce: "I'll take care of it, don't worry!"

Bruce waved his hand: "I am not your leader, you don't need to salute me, we are just a business relationship."

"I will salute whoever can ensure that my family has enough food and drink for the rest of their lives—"

Bruce simply felt that Hausmann did not have the traditional stereotype of Hans at all, but was rather cunning and flexible.

Perhaps Hausmann is now just an opportunist in uniform, and this is precisely where he is most vulnerable to exploitation.