Chapter 253: The Last Roman
Just as the secret Italian delegation and the German delegation clashed across the negotiating table, a plot to assassinate Mussolini officially unfolded in Rome.
Mussolini had originally planned to accompany his mistress to the beach resort of San Marino, but the impending Grand Council meeting forced him to return.
Although he was the Führer of Italy, carrying the reputation of a dictator, and although he could theoretically veto the opening of such a meeting, he did not possess the kind of absolute control over the country that Jörg held through his accumulated identities, achievements, and institutions.
Moreover, as the war continued to deteriorate, Mussolini's grip over the upper classes had grown increasingly fragile.
Thus, he had no choice but to agree to the convening of this grand meeting in order to win people over.
Just before he rushed back to Rome, several Blackshirt confidants who had followed him during his rise to power vaguely sensed that something was wrong and tried to stop him.
But it was useless.
The plane had already arrived at Rome Airport, catching the final glow of the Mediterranean evening.
The meeting was held in the Parliament House in January.
Not far away, beneath the nearby obelisk, the statue of Caesar seemed to foreshadow Mussolini's final fate.
Parliament House.
The moment Mussolini walked into the parliamentary hall, he clearly sensed that something was wrong.
Many people kept glancing at him from time to time.
When he entered, the hushed whispers immediately ceased, leaving behind only silence and a bone-chilling gaze.
However, Mussolini did not take it to heart.
He simply believed that the recent protests, strikes, and military failures had caused a great deal of dissatisfaction. Not once did he consider that this might be a coup.
He walked to the podium to deliver his speech, even implicitly acknowledging his mistakes.
"Gentlemen, Italy stands at a critical juncture in history."
"Over the past year, we, and indeed all of Italy, have encountered many hardships and setbacks. But these are all necessary difficulties ordained by God to temper us."
"As the leader of Italy, as the person who bears the primary responsibility, I will not give up."
"Nor will I retreat in the face of setbacks."
His voice grew firmer.
"This year, we will continue advancing toward the goal of Greater Rome."
After finishing his opening remarks, Mussolini returned to his seat.
Council President Grandi glanced at him coldly, then stepped onto the podium.
"Mr. Mussolini's words are excellent."
His tone was flat.
"But these matters are not the direction this conference intends to discuss."
"Given the domestic and international situation, as well as the development of the war, in order to defend Italy's independence and freedom, and to safeguard the independent status achieved by four generations of bloodshed and sacrifice since national unification, I, on behalf of the Council Presidency and colleagues who share this view, demand that Mussolini immediately return all state power to the King, the Grand Council, the government, and the parliament."
At first, Mussolini had remained unconcerned.
He had thought Grandi would at most offer a few cold remarks before steering the conversation back toward unity and Greater Rome.
But reality had turned one hundred and eighty degrees away from his imagination.
Grandi was actually demanding that his power be seized.
Absolutely preposterous.
Mussolini was furious.
But in such a setting, he could not show it openly. He could only shake his head again and again.
Other supporters of Mussolini could no longer sit still. They immediately began cursing Grandi.
"Grandi, what nonsense are you talking about?"
"Mr. Mussolini is the savior of Italy. He is the heir to the Roman spirit. You actually want to seize the leader's power? Who instructed you to do this?"
Another supporter, who had become a committee member because of Mussolini, cursed even more harshly.
He directly denounced all moderates, including Grandi, and shouted that they should be sent to the German-Italian border to be the first ones crushed beneath German tanks.
The moderates were not easy to bully either.
Councilman Haka, representing Grandi's faction, stood up and angrily declared, "This is the Council. Anyone can express an opinion here, but that does not mean you lunatics can recklessly attack other members."
"You are truly a group of ill-mannered scoundrels."
Seeing the meeting hall descend into chaos, Grandi raised his hand and interrupted them.
"Enough."
His voice cut through the hall.
"We will now proceed to a vote."
"Those in favor of the bill, please raise your hands."
Mussolini crossed his arms.
His cold eyes swept over each committee member, trying to pressure them through sheer authority.
Even at this point, Mussolini still believed that his authority in Rome was comparable to Jörg's authority in Germany.
But reality soon made him understand.
He was the only Roman.
Out of the twenty-eight members of the committee, nineteen raised their hands.
Two abstained.
Only seven chose to stand with him.
Facing this result, Mussolini was utterly unable to accept it.
He stood, turned, and went to his study to formulate a response.
The few committee members who had voted against the bill also followed him in and advised him urgently.
"Mr. Mussolini, Italy is now at its most critical moment. We must prepare for the worst."
"We should immediately order the entire Army to enter a state of emergency and dispatch the nearest Blackshirts to arrest all committee members who voted in favor."
"We should learn from Jörg von Roman's methods. When he began his purge…"
The moment Germany and Jörg were mentioned, Mussolini exploded with anger.
"You want me to learn from my enemy?"
His face darkened.
"Am I inferior to Jörg von Roman?"
"I am far superior to him. I am more suited to be a leader. I am the one truly suited to lead all of Europe."
"No troop movements."
He rejected the proposal without hesitation.
"I will go speak with the King. With his support, this bill can certainly be rejected."
After saying that, Mussolini dismissed the committee members and his confidants.
He sat alone in his study and picked up the telephone to call the palace.
Unfortunately, the call did not go through.
Growing impatient, Mussolini no longer wanted to wait.
He walked out of the study and, escorted by two or three scattered personal guards, left the Parliament House.
And at that moment, members of the Roman Carabinieri, who had long been lying in ambush nearby, emerged from various places with rifles in their hands.
One of them spoke coldly.
"Mr. Mussolini, we are executing an arrest warrant on behalf of His Majesty the King and the Italian government."
"Please do not offer futile resistance."
Hearing that their leader was in trouble, several committee members quickly rushed out and shouted angrily.
"Who gave you this authority?"
"Do you want to become criminals who assassinated Caesar?"
"Do not open fire. Get out of the way!"
Before he could finish speaking, three committee members who supported Mussolini and had military experience roared and charged forward, attempting to seize the rifles.
But in the next moment, gunshots rang out.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Triggers were lightly pulled, and bullets pierced the bodies of the three committee members.
Crimson blood splattered across Mussolini's face.
Seeing the blood, one of the remaining four committee members immediately changed his stance in order to save his life.
The other three silently retreated half a step and fell quiet, intending to escort Mussolini back into the parliamentary hall.
But at that moment, they realized that the gates of the Parliament House had already been tightly shut.
Mussolini finally recovered from his shock.
He sternly said, "Put down your weapons."
"Do you know what you are doing?"
"Put down your weapons immediately."
His voice rose.
"I am the leader of Italy appointed by the King. You have no right to revoke my authority."
"I demand to meet the King."
"Immediately."
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