Chapter 103: Day of Redemption (Part 1) (Seeking Votes in the Late Night)

Mei Mumu shouted loudly, silencing the entire scene, then spoke in English: “Escape tickets are limited, but there should be enough. If you don’t want to die, shut up and follow me. And remember, this is Comrade Yakov’s organized uprising. Understand?”

Anyone with sense knew that the main force behind this rescue was the Russians. The group of former big-shot prisoners all nodded like little chicks pecking their feed.

The medium-sized truck, originally meant for about a dozen people, was crammed with over thirty. But survival was the priority; no one complained.

Mei Mumu rushed to the driver’s cabin and was surprised to find Natalia had also come along, sitting behind the wheel.

“Hey! Young lady, are you old enough to have a driver’s license?”

“You… never mind,” Mei Mumu said, handing her the keys to drive.

Strange things kept happening along the way.

The German soldiers rushing to the concentration camp after receiving the alerts seemed to completely ignore this suspicious civilian truck, which even the prisoners themselves found dubious, lacking any SS or Wehrmacht insignia.

Even at the newly established checkpoints, Natalia was prepared to force her way through, but Mei Mumu stuck his head out and shouted—and to everyone’s astonishment, the officer opposite ordered them through without even sending a single soldier to check the back of the truck. Normally, just shining a flashlight into the open cargo area would have caused an immediate disaster.

Not only Natalia, but even the prisoners in the back held their breath. Two middle-aged officers gripped their stolen MP40 submachine guns tightly, ready to fight to the death if anything went wrong.

Capturing escapees—no matter how high-ranking—always meant returning them to the camp for the most horrific tortures known to man, followed by a public hanging when only a breath of life remained.

Once out, there was no thought of going back. It was either escape or die fighting.

Yet, nothing happened.

The prisoners could only conclude that the Russian intelligence was incredibly formidable.

Only Natalia noticed something unusual about Mei Mumu.

“SS business, get lost if you’re not involved!”

“SS secret operation! Clear the way!”

No identification, no damn passes—yet they were still allowed through.

The girl’s curiosity exploded, and Natalia finally couldn’t help but ask, “Brother, what are you doing?”

“Powerful hypnosis!”

“Teach me when we get back?”

“Alright!”

However, just as they neared their destination, it seemed their good luck ran out.

A squad of German military police blocked the intersection.

Mei Mumu tried to use hypnosis again but encountered a man with an exceptionally strong will.

“Let them through… no! They are the enemy!” The MP officer suddenly broke free from the mental control. His command caused the already alert MPs to raise their submachine guns simultaneously.

“Rat-a-tat-tat!” The most ferocious barrage of gunfire.

“Charge!” Natalia didn’t even need Mei Mumu to shout. She slammed the accelerator, pulling out a pistol with her left hand and spraying bullets wildly at the two MPs closest to the truck door.

The violent impact shattered the makeshift roadblock.

Whether it was a hallucination or not, she felt there were fewer bullets hitting the truck bed than expected.

Mei Mumu also raised his submachine gun, firing back and downing at least ten MPs with a single magazine.

This was the last kilometer.

Still shaken, Natalia suddenly noticed Mei Mumu’s face was drenched in blood.

“Ah! What happened to you, Brother Major? Don’t scare me!”

“Ugh… left eye probably gone, right shoulder hit, but no vital organs damaged. I shouldn’t… die,” Mei Mumu groaned.

Not just him—the back of the truck echoed with low cries and groans of pain. Many unlucky souls were likely wounded.

They raced to the banks of the Havel River flowing through Berlin, where a submarine silently docked at a pier beside a small grove.

“Here? Damn, so many people!”

“We’re almost ready to depart.”

One had to admit, Stalin had truly gone all out to save his son this time, even sending a diesel submarine daringly into Germany’s inland waterways.

Around the grove, a dozen intelligence operatives armed themselves and spread out to cover their retreat.

After hurriedly loading the prisoners onto the vessel, a decoy ship set off upstream.

Just before closing the submarine hatch, the harsh sounds of firefights between the intelligence agents and German troops rang out.

Only then did the survivors take stock of the man who had given them new life. He was gravely wounded—his left eye mostly blind, his right arm limp.

Medical personnel immediately extracted a bullet from his shoulder joint, but the injury might render his arm useless in the future.

“Hello, could you tell us the name of the hero who saved our lives?” a British officer asked.

Natalia shook her head in sorrow: “You can ask the General Secretary yourselves when you meet Comrade Stalin.”

The Soviet intelligence during World War II already bore the early shadows of what would later shock the world as the KGB.

Despite traveling by water, with numerous locks and valves along the way, the Russians, with their far-reaching influence, had bribed or manipulated ordinary people and even German officers to deliberately open the gates as the submarine passed.

From the Havel River to the Elbe, finally slipping out through Germany’s busiest port, Hamburg, the journey took a month, eventually reaching Moscow on January 20, 1943.

That day stunned the world.

Not only because the German troops were starved of food and supplies, trapped beneath the ruins of Stalingrad, but because the Soviet Union publicly announced that the great leader Stalin’s son, Yakov Zhugashvili, had led a brave and fearless uprising at the Sachsenhausen concentration camp near Berlin.

In total, they killed or wounded 587 German soldiers and rescued a large number of captured Allied officers and political figures.

In truth, the Allies saw this as Stalin boasting to himself—it was no secret that Stalin had his agents infiltrate Berlin to rescue his son.

But the list of those rescued published by the Soviets left the Allied nations unsettled.

Setting aside the Russians themselves, there were quite a few notable figures:

British Lieutenant Colonel Tom Cushing Patrick.

Major Andrew Walsh William Murphy.

Klopp—the British commander of the Tobruk fortress in Africa, captured in June 1942.

Lieutenant General William Gott—the commander of the British Eighth Army. His transport plane was shot down on August 6, 1942; he survived only to be captured.

Brigadier General Alphonse Jouan—the commander of France’s 15th Motorized Infantry Division of the 1st Army. On May 10, 1940, he led his troops in a desperate rear-guard action covering the Dunkirk evacuation and was captured on the 30th. In this alternate world, he was unlucky enough not to have been released by this time and was rescued by Mei. In another world, Jouan later rose to the rank of marshal.

In addition, there were many generals and officers from smaller countries like Poland and Norway.