Chapter 5

No one slept that night. For the members of the Workers' Party, that day would be etched into their memories forever. The tension was palpable, and the air smelled of revolution.

The sky began to lighten slowly. It was November 9th, and in the early hours of the morning, Adolf Hitler received news that shook him to his core. Although Lossow and Seisser were already under his control, the German defense forces and the police stationed in Munich had realized the gravity of the situation and urgently mobilized to surround the Ministry of the Army.

Himmler and Röhm were surrounded!

The situation was critical.

"We cannot wait any longer," said Hitler with a firm voice. "According to the plan, we must hold a rally in Munich to expand our ranks. Right now, we must march toward the Ministry of the Army to rescue the brave Himmler and Röhm."

"Leader, let us take these two with us," proposed Alex, pointing to Lossow and Seisser.

Lossow and Seisser were still under custody, but the troops surrounding Himmler and Röhm were under their command. What would happen if they were forced to issue orders?

Alex could almost picture the historical scene: those cunning figures fleeing in the middle of the night and then issuing a statement denying any involvement with Hitler's uprising. But now, under his watch, they had no chance of escape.

"Yes, Lossow, Seisser," said Hitler, patting them on the shoulders. "Thank you for your performance last night. Today, I hope you continue to demonstrate your loyalty. The future of the Empire depends on you, Mr. Minister of the Army and Mr. Minister of Police."

Both men wore bitter expressions. Although they shared some resentment toward the Berlin government, their goal was to restore the Monarchy, not to establish a New Regime.

That day, November 9th, was a memorable date: the Anniversary of the Weimar Republic. However, instead of being celebrated, it was witnessing an uprising.

A group of people marched in a powerful procession through the streets of Munich. The flags bearing the swastika and the banner of the Mountain League fluttered in the wind.

When the uprising had begun the previous day, only a few hundred stormtroopers were involved. But after Hitler's incendiary speeches the night before, many men, some still holding beer bottles, had joined the cause. Now, the number of demonstrators exceeded three thousand.

"Our Empire began to weaken with the Treaty of Versailles!" shouted Hitler to the crowd. "That is the source of our misfortune! Let us rise, break the chains of Versailles, and save our homeland!"

His voice resonated with overwhelming force, electrifying the crowd. It was as if a spiritual atomic bomb had exploded in their hearts.

"Halt! Do not proceed any further!" shouted a police officer, suddenly appearing in front of the crowd.

The officers, armed with pistols and mounted on horses, blocked the way. The animals neighed and nervously pawed the ground, as if sensing the chaos that was about to unfold. Although they were only police, their presence was intimidating.

"Mr. Seisser, these are your subordinates. Please, restrain them," said Alex, holding his MP18 submachine gun and tapping the police chief on the back.

If curses were effective, Alex would have died a thousand times at that moment. As he silently cursed, Seisser reluctantly stepped forward.

"I am the police chief, Seisser," he said, his voice trembling. "Who is your direct superior?"

Although it was impossible for him to recognize every one of his subordinates, the leader of the team must have known him. Seisser looked at the officer standing in front of him, less than ten meters away. If he could get closer, would they rescue him?

It was his last chance. After all, he had been a police officer for years and knew he had to act shrewdly.

But at that moment, he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressing against his back.

"Run?" murmured Alex. "Do you think you can outrun the bullets of a machine gun? Four hundred rounds per minute would be enough to turn you into a sieve. Unless you have a horse under your legs, don't even try."

"Chief, we are here to rescue you," said a burly police captain, stepping forward from the cavalry.

At that moment, both sides had their weapons raised, and the tension was unbearable. A single wrong move would unleash chaos.

After all, no one had clear orders. And the police chief was right in the middle of it all.

"Bastards, I need you to save me! Can't you see I'm injured? Get out of the way immediately!" shouted Seisser in desperation.

At that moment, no one dared to move. Although it would only take him three seconds to run a few meters, in one second he could become an easy target—a sitting duck in a hornet's nest ready to take him down!

"Why don't you get out of the way?" Seisser continued to shout, looking at his subordinates with disappointment. They, however, stepped back, confused and fearful.

"Didn't you hear me speaking sarcastically? Move quickly! Arrest all these traitors! As long as I keep moving forward, chaos will take over, and only I can save myself!"

Seisser was furious. His only chance was slipping through his fingers.

"Thank you very much, Seisser. The Empire will remember your contribution," said Hitler in a solemn voice, firmly gripping his revolver. His eyes shone with determination as he observed the massive team following him. He looked toward the future with a mix of ambition and ferocity.

"He can succeed in everything Mussolini has achieved!" he exclaimed, full of conviction.

"Forward, forward!" he ordered, pointing the way.

The team continued to advance, and as they moved forward, more citizens joined the march. The crowd grew, and with it, the sense of power and purpose.

"Cross the street ahead, and you will find the Ministry of War!" someone shouted from behind.

"Halt, do not move!" an authoritative voice rang out right at the entrance of the street. Another team blocked their path.

It was the Defense Force.

Compared to the police, the formation of the Defense Force was far more imposing. The soldiers held Mauser rifles firmly, and in the trash bins on both sides of the street, machine guns were prepared. The muzzles of the weapons were pointed directly at them, ready to fire at any moment.

Facing them, the weapons of the parade seemed more diverse. The MP18 submachine gun that Alex held in his hands was undoubtedly a high-end weapon. With just a Mauser rifle, they already had an advantage!

Hitler turned his head and looked at Lossow. The situation was clear: it was Lossow's turn to act. But at that moment, Alex stepped forward.

"Let me go. I know them very well," said Alex with a mocking smile on his lips.

Alex felt strangely familiar with the people standing in front of him, especially the leader of the team. The man had a chubby face, wore glasses that gave him an air of false elegance, and had a small mustache under his nose. He was someone Alex had seen before, somewhere else, at another time.

"Move forward, but carefully," whispered Alex as the team prepared for what was to come.