Chapter 282: Budapest Grand Hotel
At the end of March, inside the Budapest Grand Hotel.
"Hurry up!"
Gustav's voice rang through the lobby like a whip.
"Lena, how many times have I told you? The tablecloths must be changed to a black and red color scheme. Bright red, like blood. Not this ugly rose color."
"Kyle, how many times have I told you? The water stains on the floor must be wiped at least three more times with a dry cloth."
Gustav patrolled the hotel with a stern expression, but the excitement in his eyes could not be concealed.
The establishment of the European Union was a major event that would affect the entire world.
And this event was actually being announced in Budapest.
More importantly, the meeting of national leaders was being held in their hotel.
This alone was enough to write the hotel into the history books.
And perhaps, if fate was generous, his own name as well.
Suppressing the irrepressible smile at the corners of his mouth, Gustav pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and smiled as he nodded in greeting to every German soldier standing like a statue in the corridors.
The officer in charge merely raised a hand.
"No need."
His eyes remained cold and businesslike.
"Where is your kitchen?"
"This way. Shall I lead you there?"
Gustav bowed his head respectfully and made an inviting gesture.
"Please follow me, sir."
The officer had not even taken a few steps when a plain-looking middle-aged man in a suit appeared at the entrance.
Gustav was stunned.
He could not understand how this man had passed through the armored vehicle blockade outside and entered the hotel so silently.
Before Gustav could ask anything, the officer walked over first.
The middle-aged man seemed to show some form of identification.
The officer's face changed instantly.
Panic appeared on it.
No, not panic.
Fear.
"Yes. Yes."
The officer straightened his posture at once.
"We guarantee the mission will be completed."
"Forward, Germany."
The middle-aged man removed his black felt hat.
His hawk-like eyes swept across the lobby. He gave Gustav a cold glance, then walked away quickly.
The officer stood perfectly straight where he was, watching the man disappear from sight.
Only then did he turn back.
"Take me to the kitchen."
The next day, Budapest Central Street was bustling with activity.
Because of the political propaganda carried out in advance, the news of the establishment of the European Union was no longer a secret.
The Hungarian public was not especially interested in this news.
After all, Hungary could hardly be considered a complete country anymore.
It was more like an autonomous province under the German-led province of Austria.
Germany had not forcibly integrated Austria-Hungary.
It had only unified them legally, economically, and militarily.
Compared with Slovenia, which had been directly planned as part of the Austrian province, Hungary still retained a certain degree of freedom.
Aside from the fact that important political personnel changes required approval from Berlin, ordinary local people did not feel much difference in daily life.
The Hungarian autonomous provincial government had once invited Otto von Habsburg, the last Crown Prince, to return to Hungary and spend the rest of his life there.
But Otto von Habsburg had not agreed.
Apart from the small-scale civil war still ongoing in Serbia and Croatia, the Balkans had effectively returned to peace.
Inside the car, Mannerheim looked at the flags of various countries fluttering outside the window.
Among them, he found the blue cross belonging to Finland.
"Mr. Vaughn, when will I be able to have a face-to-face talk with Herr von Roman?"
Mannerheim's tone was calm, but his concern could not be hidden.
"To tell you the truth, the situation in Finland right now is exceptionally dangerous."
The accompanying diplomat, Vaughn, smiled.
"Do not worry, Marshal Mannerheim."
"By coming here to attend the European Union leaders' meeting, you have already secured the attention of all Europe."
"Believe me, your trip will definitely be worthwhile."
He paused briefly, then added, "We have specifically arranged your speech as the first one, so that the world can hear Finland's voice."
As soon as he finished speaking, the car door opened.
A red carpet stretched all the way to the entrance.
On both sides of the stairs, countless camera flashes burst in Mannerheim's face, accompanied by the clicking of shutters.
This marshal, who rarely attended such occasions, was momentarily unaccustomed to the scene.
Just as he raised his hand, Vaughn patted his shoulder and whispered close to his ear.
"Keep smiling, sir."
Inside the doors, Gustav was wearing the tailcoat reserved exclusively for attendants.
On such an occasion, the hotel's general manager was no different from a waiter.
Or rather, no different from a fly.
Because standing before him were the leaders of nations.
There was Pétain, the dictator of Vichy France, whispering with the Pope.
There was the King of Greece, arm in arm with King Carol II of Romania.
Ever since they had driven the Italians into the sea together, their relationship had become very good.
In the distance stood the neutral camp, where representatives from Belgium, Norway, Sweden, and other countries gathered together.
At a glance, everyone seemed united and orderly.
But if one looked more carefully, each country still had its own circle.
That was the true reflection of diplomatic relations.
For example, the King of Greece was clearly unwilling to stand together with the French President Pétain.
However, there was one exception.
He was the youngest among them, and also the leader who had won the greatest respect.
Jörg von Roman.
This legend, only in his thirties, seemed not to have aged at all.
As his conquests expanded, the overwhelming momentum around him had grown stronger and stronger, making it difficult for others to breathe in his presence.
Looking at Jörg, Gustav took two deep breaths.
It seemed the other party noticed his gaze.
Although Jörg was smiling, the slight curve at the corner of his mouth filled Gustav with inexplicable tension.
It felt as though he were being stared at by a golden lion.
After graciously accepting the gift handed over by José Sanjurjo, and noticing Vaughn's gaze from the entrance, Jörg walked toward the door with a smile.
He looked Mannerheim over, then extended his hand.
"Marshal Mannerheim."
"I heard you have been looking for an opportunity to speak with me alone."
"Herr von Roman, thank you for your concern for Finland over the years."
Mannerheim spoke from the heart.
"Politicians may forget, but I will never forget that it was the German officers who came to assist us who formed Finland's first true armored unit."
As he spoke, Mannerheim placed his left hand over his chest and bowed his head slightly.
It was a courtly greeting posture, one used when meeting an emperor.
Unfortunately, Jörg was not very interested in etiquette and did not notice the respect hidden in the gesture.
"Finland will always be part of Europe."
Jörg's tone was gentle, but carried weight.
"To face Soviet Russia directly requires great courage."
"Now, Europe and Germany will face it together with you."
"Believe me, Marshal Mannerheim."
"I believe Germany will become Finland's partner."
Mannerheim's expression remained solemn.
"But, Herr von Roman, allow me to say something discouraging."
"It is very difficult for Finland to obtain a true consensus from the whole of Europe."
"Current European society has already had its vision filled with all kinds of war."
"It is difficult to make them refocus on the theory of a Soviet Russian threat."
What Mannerheim said was the truth.
After all, there were not many countries directly facing the threat of Soviet Russia.
To truly unite the whole of Europe in a real sense, perhaps Soviet Russia would have to declare war on every European country.
"That is not necessarily the case."
Jörg lightly patted the other man's shoulder and led Mannerheim all the way to the second floor.
Mannerheim originally thought Jörg intended to discuss aid with him in private.
Only after reaching the second floor did he realize that Jörg had merely found a location with a wide view to continue their conversation.
"Soviet Russia will always make some astonishing moves."
Jörg looked into the distance.
"Moves that make everyone stand on the opposite side of them."
"Perhaps they will do something foolish right now."
Following Jörg's words, Mannerheim cast his gaze into the distance.
The final car was driving down the street.
At its front fluttered the flag of Bulgaria.
....
https://discord.gg/KvMN2CFsMR
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03].