Shadow of great britain

The ceiling of the Scotland Yard Hall is high and well-lit. Through the ornately decorated glass skylights, the light shines on the ancient wooden floors, reflecting dappled light and shadow.

At the end of the corridor may be a towering staircase, leading passersby up and down to offices, interrogation rooms and archives on various floors.

On both sides of the corridor, there are several solid white marble columns standing. They carry the precipitation of time, and their surfaces are polished smooth and steady. Each texture seems to be engraved with a story from the past.

This building, which was built in the 15th century, once witnessed the history of King James VI of Scotland taking over England, the fierce battle between the New Model Army under Cromwell and the Royalists, and also witnessed the 1665 The London plague and the London fire that burned for 4 days and 4 nights and destroyed 87 churches, 44 companies and 13,000 houses.

And as the wheel of history slowly advances, it will also witness similar things happening here again and again.

The air is filled with the strong smell of ink and old paper, mixed with a hint of the aged aroma produced by burning wooden furniture and tobacco.

Occasionally, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor. They were the detectives of the Criminal Investigation Department and the staff responsible for delivering domestic security intelligence. They left scenes of tense and orderly work here. .

At the railing on the second floor of the hall, a young police officer was leaning on the railing overlooking the busy scene here. His right hand wearing a white glove rested on the palace sword given by the king at his waist, and he held a pipe in his left hand. The sight between his eyes seemed to have lost focus, and he looked like he was thinking about something.

In the past, Scotland Yard was always noisy and noisy, but today, except for the busy footsteps, there was no unnecessary noise in Arthur's ears.

Everyone tacitly refused to say a few words. The tense air spreading from the upper levels of Britain finally reached here after several days of fermentation.

At this moment, no matter how courageous a man is, he will feel unsure. Everyone hopes that someone can stand up and say something, even if it is meaningless nonsense, at least the nonsense can be heard by others. It feels very safe to wear.

Not only the police officers did not dare to talk to Arthur, but even the superintendents and assistant superintendents who were not far behind Arthur's level also wanted to keep a distance from him.

Article 1 of the "London Metropolitan Police Manual" states that police officers should not hold any political stance and should not use personal likes and dislikes to influence law enforcement behavior.

However, even though that is said, when one is inside the public gate, when the whirlpool has formed, who can really guarantee that one can be alone.

More than 90% of Scotland Yard's senior police officers are retired from the Army. This alone is enough to illustrate their political stance.

Unfortunately, Arthur is a special case outside the 90%.

To make matters worse, the choice of the British Prime Minister is now pending, and the positions of various ministers are naturally vacant.

At this time, almost all subordinate departments are working on their own. Therefore, in addition to some daily administrative matters, do not expect to get support and help from other departments.

First, everyone is afraid of taking responsibility.

Secondly, if you stand in the wrong position at this time, you will definitely be in trouble when the new cabinet candidates are announced.

Don’t make controversial remarks, don’t engage in extreme behavior, and would rather do nothing than do something wrong. This is the current mentality of most people.

But Arthur obviously didn't think so. He had made promises both to the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Bentham.

He made few promises, whether to people or to devils.

But now that he has made a choice, he will definitely fulfill it as agreed in advance.

Arthur raised his head and saw two familiar figures walking into the hall.

his police secretary, Monsieur Louis Bonaparte, and sharpshooter Thomas Plunkett, head of the Ghost Squadron 8 of the Police Intelligence Service.

Arthur took off his hat and shook it at them. The two of them quickly walked up the stairs with understanding and followed him to the office.

The door closed and Plunkett's butt had just touched the stool when he heard Arthur speak.

"Thomas, I'm sorry, I should have given you and your brothers more training time, but things don't always go in the direction we expected. As you can see, London is full of dangers now, and this , which is what we police officers don’t want to encounter.”

Plunkett seemed to have been mentally prepared for Arthur's words. As a warrior who had been tested by artillery fire for a long time, he was already used to killing people. However, this does not mean that he will shoot at anyone. He also has his concerns and bottom line.

Plunkett was silent for a while and suddenly said: "Sir, I am very grateful to you. I am very grateful to you for promoting me to my current position and giving me a higher position and a decent salary. I am willing to You can do anything, but...but there is only one thing, I must explain it in advance."

Arthur poured a cup of tea: "Well, Thomas, you say it, I'm listening."

Plunkett swallowed, turned to look at Louis next to him, couldn't help but stood up and saluted Arthur: "Sir! I'm sorry, I must say, we brothers who retired from the 95th Regiment It's never a shot in the nose."

When Arthur heard this, he paused slightly while pouring tea, then raised his head and stared at Plunkett's bald head for a long time: "Shoot at the Duke of Wellington? Thomas, how could you kill me?" Is this a misunderstanding?"

Plunkett's eyes widened: "Ah? Isn't that why you came to me for this?"

"Why do you think so?"

Plunkett scratched his head: "Well... maybe my nerves have been too tense recently. I heard some people in the hall say that you are a very special person..."

Arthur took a sip of tea: "How special is it?"

"It's that special..."

"What kind?"

Plunkett held it in for a long time, and finally confessed the truth: "That kind of thing is not the same as ours. Sir, some guys in the hall think you are a Whig, that is, from the reformist side. And , and you have a Bonaparte with you! Doesn’t it sound reasonable that the Bonapartes want to kill the Duke of Wellington?”

Louis, who was taking notes seriously on the side, almost broke the quill in his hand when he heard this.

He raised his head helplessly and assured Plunkett sincerely: "Brother, we in the Bonaparte family do not like the Duke of Wellington, but we will not do such a cruel thing to him. Abuseful behavior, well... at least a smart person like me wouldn't do it."

When Arthur heard this, he was not in a hurry to explain the task to Plunkett, but instead chatted with Plunkett, trying to appease his subordinate's mood.

"Thomas, I promise you, if anyone in this hall tells you that I ordered the assassination of the Duke of Wellington, you can immediately take out a gun and kill him, and come to me to collect the reward on his head, you understand What do I mean?"

After hearing this, Plunkett finally put his heart back in his stomach. He sat back on the chair, raised his sleeves and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Sir, I'm reassured by your words. You may not know what an old nose means to us veterans. Many of us soldiers hate fighting, but, I mean but... If England must serve for the Army, and I am in the Army, then we hope it must be an old nose commanding us.

Although his military laws are very strict, every time we fight with him, he will definitely pay attention to our interests, and we will never have to fear the enemy. There are two things in particular that we can be assured of.

First, no matter how bad the conditions are, we must always have adequate supplies. Second, no matter who the enemy is, even if it is Soult, Marmont or Napoleon, we can definitely beat the shit out of the enemy. For us soldiers, what more could we ask for?

Every time you see him standing on the hill wearing low boots, white breeches, a dark blue tuxedo, a white scarf and a three-cornered hat, everyone will feel at ease. I can assure you that no one who served in the Napoleonic Wars would not want to serve Old Nose. "

Arthur laughed when he heard this: "Did he dress so simply during the war? This is different from what I heard! When I chatted with the superintendents before, I heard them say that most officers even when fighting They all like to dress gorgeously and decorate themselves in gold and silver. The most typical one is Horatio Nelson of the Royal Navy. He likes to wear gorgeous coats with ribbons and medals inlaid with jewels. He is very attractive on the HMS Victory. Pay attention. That’s why he was killed by a sniper at the end of the Battle of Trafalgar.”

When Plunkett talked about his past experiences, he seemed to become more energetic. He laughed and said, "Yes, most officers like to wear beautiful clothes, and they also have to dress themselves up on the battlefield. It's like attending a ball. But Old Nose is just like you. He is a very special person. He always dresses plainly on the battlefield and never flaunts himself. Because he understands that even if he doesn't wear gold, silver and pretentious decorations We, our subordinates, all know who he is."

Arthur asked: "What do you mean, the Duke of Wellington is very close to the soldiers, that's why you all know him?"

"No no no."

Plunkett took the glass filled with brandy from Louis' hand, thanked him, drank it in one gulp, and then spoke.

"Old Nose never jokes with us. That's not his style. In most cases, he behaves very calmly and seriously. The one who likes to joke with the soldiers is Marshal Blücher of Prussia. I once We met him once, at Waterloo, when he had just led the Prussians away from the French army's pursuit. We met him and his army on the roadside.

I still remember that the 74-year-old man was still full of energy and high spirits even though his limbs were bruised and bruised. He cleaned his wounds with brandy, drank another bottle of strong liquor, and although it must have been painful for him to ride, he kept chatting and joking with us all the way. We were in a very low mood at that time, but the old fellow's humor soon ignited the whole column like wildfire.

Although I couldn't strike up a conversation with him, I just caught a glimpse of him from a distance. However, if I have this opportunity, I very much hope to tell this old hero that although he was beaten badly by the French, I was still extremely happy to see him successfully escape from the French pursuit, and I believe that everyone in the 95th Group must think so. "

When Arthur heard this, he responded with great interest: "Listening to what you said, I suddenly feel that war is not so scary anymore, because there seem to be many interesting things here."

Plunkett's expression changed when he heard this. He waved his hands repeatedly and said, "No, sir, you must not think that way. You find it interesting because I only picked out interesting parts. In fact, our 95th Regiment is here At the time of Waterloo, two-thirds of the officers and more than half of the brothers were killed in the Battle of Four Arms.

The 42nd Regiment next door to us was covered by French artillery fire on the first day of the Battle of Four Arms Village. In the morning, they still had 526 men, but by night there were only 238 men left. You should know the nickname of the 42nd Regiment, right? The Black Guards, the Scottish Highland Infantry, even they are so miserable, let alone other regiments. At that time, we almost couldn't hold on anymore, and Old Nose also realized that we needed support, so he quickly sent the 69th Regiment from Lincoln County over for support.

But it's a pity that although the old nose has good vision. But the guy in charge of our right wing was a fool, that 'Slim Billy' Prince of Orange. He was only 23 years old at the time, and he just didn't understand anything. He ordered several of our regiments to form horizontal formations to respond to the enemy. Several battalion-level commanders of our 95th regiment made serious protests to him, but this guy remained stubborn.

And when the order to form a line was passed to the regiments, Klermann's cuirassiers were charging through our units. Switching formations allowed them to immediately discover our weakness and take the opportunity to launch an attack. Since the 73rd Regiment was close enough to the Bossu Forest, they hurriedly withdrew into the dense bushes for cover. The 33rd Regiment barely formed a square defense, but the 69th Regiment was in misery. They were trapped in the center of the battlefield and suffered a fierce attack from the cavalry.

The chaotic formation change caused the 69th Regiment to be directly annihilated on the spot, and their royal flag was also captured by the French. Only a few people escaped to nearby friendly forces. You may not know how humiliating it is for those of us in the military to lose our flag. The military flag has an almost mystical significance. In order to protect the military flag, soldiers can fight like demons.

When the 69th regiment discovered that their flag was lost, they indeed went crazy like this. Christopher Clark, the flag officer of the 69th Regiment, found out that he had lost his flag. He immediately red-eyed and reentered the encirclement, killing three French cuirassiers by himself. When he came out holding the flag of the 69th regiment, my God! I couldn't believe my eyes.

He suffered a total of 22 stab wounds on his body. There was almost no good flesh on his body, and blood was pouring from all the wounds. But God blessed, this guy was very tenacious, and maybe God thought he was a good person, so he survived in the end, and later joined the 42nd Scottish Highland Infantry Regiment to continue serving. "

When Arthur heard this, he suddenly raised his hand to signal Plunkett to stop: "Wait a minute...Thomas, is that flag officer Christopher Clark you are talking about? Is it the person in charge of interrogation here...Inspector Clark?"

Plunkett nodded slightly and said: "Yes, that's him. Sir, you should know now why no one in the hall dares to challenge Inspector Clark, right? Even Director Rowan and Sir Mayne usually treat him badly. Very respectful.”

At this point, Plunkett was still a little unsure. He hesitated for a long time while holding the wine glass, and then added: "Sir, people like Inspector Clark or me will never drink wine." The Duke of Wellington took action. Because to us soldiers, he is like the flag of the entire British Army. If anyone touches him, we will all be red-eyed."