shadow of britain

Chapter 150 Conflict Escalation?

On Piccadilly outside St. James's Palace, the demonstration crowd is growing.

The weather in London today is still bad. After morning, the face of the sun is covered with a layer of haze.

But now, there was a cold and chilling drizzle.

The dripping raindrops fell on the spacious brick-paved avenue, and the muddy water overflowing from the cracks in the bricks and tiles coated the always clean and tidy West End of London with a gray background.

A pair of square-toed shoes that were almost transparent stepped on the muddy water of the road. Half of the muddy water splashed all over the already tattered overalls, and the other half stinged coldly along the cracks in the coarse linen shoes and socks, making them numb. Nervous for a long time.

Every demonstrator's face showed a passion that was different from the dull expression in the factory in the past. This long-suppressed mood was constantly amplified in the parade. Their dead children, blood relatives who were exiled, suffered Everyone has a different experience of the devastated body, but only the painful mood and the uncontrollable urge to burn the world are the same.

Beep!Beep!Beep! ! !
"Hurry up, hurry up! Keep up, keep up with the fuck!!!"

Several experienced police inspectors of Scotland Yard used their swollen cheeks to blow their sirens to evacuate pedestrians and passing carriages on the road, and the drops of water on their faces could not tell whether it was sweat or blood. rain.

This heavy and oppressive feeling and the muddy road made several police inspectors couldn't help but think of something long ago. It was the rainy season in the Iberian Peninsula more than ten years ago.

Back then they were recruits, back then they were forever on the move.

At the Battle of Bussaco they defeated André Masséna, 'Son of Victory', Field Marshal of the First French Empire.

At the Battle of Salamanca, they killed Auguste Marmont, the Field Marshal of the First French Empire 'Buffalo King'.

At the Battle of Victoria, they defeated Napoleon's brother, King Joseph Bonaparte of Spain, and the mighty Field Marshal of the First French Empire, Jean Baptiste Jourdan, the 'proud bandit'.

And at the end of the Battle of Toulouse before news of Napoleon's abdication, they collected as spoils the defeat of the last Field Marshal of the First French Empire, the 'Iron Hand', Jean de Dieu Soult.

They come from different units, but they all have their own glorious traditions, brilliant achievements and excellent working ability.

The scene was rushed to the scene by special action order of the Prime Minister and the Home Secretary, under the supervision of Superintendent Arthur Hastings, East London Region of the Metropolitan Police.

Coming to support was the retired lieutenant of the [-]th Royal Foot Guards "Wellington Guards", who was 'always belligerent, often tired, but never defeated', and currently serving as Superintendent of West London in the Metropolitan Police Service. Mosley.

In the Battle of Salamanca, 412 soldiers and 340 casualties were killed in the whole regiment, but no one retreated. The "bloody" retired captain of the 11th Royal Infantry Regiment is currently serving as the superintendent of the South London District of the Greater London Metropolitan Police Department. William · Michelle.

Retired Lieutenant 'Die Hard' of the 57th Royal Infantry, famous for the commanding officer of the regiment who was seriously wounded and fell to the ground, but still shouted 'Die Hard' before he died in the Battle of Albuela, serving in Greater London Superintendent of Police Middlesex, Joseph Matherin.

As well as the retired captain of the 1814st Royal Infantry Regiment 'Flowers of Toulouse', who was quickly put into battle shortly after reorganization in 61, and was particularly conspicuous on the battlefield because of the tragic casualties and the new blood-stained uniform. Davis Lee, Superintendent of East London, Metropolitan Police Service.

The scene was full of beeping sirens. Under the rain, several police superintendents could no longer see the road in front of them. They raised their arms to break through the crowd and led the young police officers who were still unskilled in dealing with this situation. go ahead.

"Order! Order! Execute the order!!!"

Under the command of the chief, the conscientious police officers strode forward. Some of them ran to the front of the parade to clear the road as much as possible to prevent stampede conflicts.

As for the other part, they followed behind the demonstrators.

They were panting for breath, with nervous and hesitant expressions, moreover, perhaps some fear and sympathy that were restricted by Scotland Yard regulations and their own responsibilities, and were not allowed to come out of their mouths.

Similarly, most of them, who were workers and farmers, really didn't know how to describe their mood at the moment.

They were also drenched in the rain, pouring down their leather riding boots so much it froze their feet.

And their hands, which were so cold that they were about to lose their temperature, did not dare to be careless at all times, tightly pinching their uniform coats that were soaked in rainwater so close to their skin.

That is the civilized staff hidden under their uniforms. They have no pistols or police officers' knives. The civilized staff is the only weapon they are allowed to use today.

Their origins are as complicated as a demonstration parade, including street vendors, workers in the East District, laborers at the docks, landless farmers, and even some who have done things like those who did not want to be exposed to the sun. The same unseemly things as the pickpockets.

They chanted the slogan of 'Tories down, down Wellington' and walked along Piccadilly towards Wellington's Arch, which was built to commemorate the victory of the Battle of Waterloo.

The windows of the houses on both sides of the road in the Mayer district were opened, and the noble merchants in London looked at the parade crowd and the drowned policemen. There were various expressions on their faces, and some looked very calm. Some looked anxious, but most of them were watching the show curiously, as if joining in the fun.

In the fence of Hyde Park, there are still a group of officers standing in the rain, wearing sabers, white gloves, and black leather boots. Some of them have serious expressions, and some have joking expressions. They are stationed in Hyde Park. Cavalry commanders of the 'Piccadilly Butchers', a cavalry regiment in the park.

A commander with a slightly wrinkled brow and a mustache reached out from the fence to stop Superintendent George Mosley passing by.

"Dude, do you need help?"

George Mosley looked up at his epaulets, raised his hand and saluted and said, "Captain, we have not received any suppressive orders from the Ministry of War at present, and the situation is currently under the control of the Metropolitan Police Department." .In this case, please remain calm."

The captain of the cavalry took a look at the parade that was getting bigger and bigger, sneered, and talked about his own experience with eloquence.

"Are you sure that Scotland Yard can handle it? Dude, listen to my advice, for the parade, the more you let it go, the more it will get out of control. Hurry up and attack them, divide them up, and break them up one by one. The correct solution is to attack them one by one."

George Mosley just exhaled when he heard the words, and he wiped the cold rain off his face.

"Perhaps I am not as experienced as the Guards Cavalry Regiment in suppressing the demonstrators on Piccadilly Avenue. But in terms of fighting skills, you guys who have been practicing for 100 years are not as good as the Fifth Infantry Regiment.

The second regiment of gray dragons, the most capable cavalry of yours, also behaved like a piece of shit in Waterloo. The few regiments that can show off in front of me, except for Lengxi, the second infantry regiment, are now basically standing Here, you gang of cavalry guards, stop fucking farting in front of me!

It's not like we Scotland Yard haven't retired from your cavalry regiment, Tyler Clemens, you know?That idiot did one thing and smashed another, and we have to wipe his ass afterwards!If you really want to help, tell your men to stay still!

Hmph, I think the Ministry of War usually feeds you too fat and too full. Your horses can attack civilians in any area, except for the high ground occupied by the French! "

After finishing speaking, Superintendent George Mosley blew his whistle while stepping forward and ordered to run forward: "Don't fall behind! Although I have retired, I am still a veteran of the Fifth Regiment. My subordinates The police can lose to anyone, but they cannot lose to the cavalry! Practice has proved that the two-legged ones are more aggressive than the four-legged ones!"

"Oh! You fucking, mashed potato eater!" The cavalry captain stared, and was about to curse back, but was stopped by his companions in an instant.

The officer on the side jokingly said: "Forget it, are you really planning to compete with the 'Wellington Guards'? There are people on the Fifth Infantry Regiment. The iron wall is impenetrable, and even the windows are iron Duke Arthur. Wellesley."

Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished speaking, he saw a black figure that could only be seen clearly in the rain. It was a young police officer with reddish eyes in his black eyes.

The only difference between him and the policemen passing by just now is that, perhaps because he ran too fast, his yarmulke hat was lost somewhere.

He stood still in front of the cavalry commanders. The officers glanced up and down, frowning rather dissatisfied and asked, "What are you looking at? We are not your boss. That mashed potato eater went ahead."

When Arthur heard this, he didn't say a word, he just took out a written order that was hot in his heart from his arms and passed it along the gap in the railing.

The officers didn't even look at it, and the cavalry captain who was angry even slapped the document in Arthur's hand.

"Are you sick? The Guards Cavalry Regiment does not accept Scotland Yard's dispatch! Get out of here!"

Arthur glanced at the document soaked in the rain, the dark red ink pad gradually melted in the blisters, dyeing the transparent raindrops bright red.

He said calmly, "Pick it up."

The captain of the cavalry drew his knife out of its sheath, and in a fit of anger, he pressed the point of the sword against Arthur's throat: "Do you think that if your boss can talk to me, it means you can do it too? Before you speak, you'd better Look what you are!"

His mind is not quite sober, but that doesn't mean that his companions are not sober either.

Someone bent down to pick up the document, and his face changed three times just after taking a look.

"Cook, it's almost done! This is an order from the Ministry of War. The Prime Minister requires us not to step out of the station until we get the order."

Cook couldn't help trembling when he heard this, but he hesitated for a long time, but still couldn't save face and put down the tip of the knife.

When the two sides were entangled, it was Arthur who spoke first: "Captain Cook, when I need you, I will speak. I have always trusted officers from the Guards Cavalry Regiment, just like I trust Clement The same as Superintendent Si. But in this crisis, please carry out the order seriously."

When Cook heard this, he hesitated for a moment, put away the officer's knife, and saluted Arthur bravely: "Sorry, please rest assured, the Guards Cavalry Regiment will not step out of Hyde until there is no new transfer order." One step in the park. However, I still recommend that you stop the parade before passing the Wellington Arc. According to the slogans they shouted during the parade, I am worried that they may do something unnecessary after seeing the statue of Mr. Duke. overreaction."

Arthur nodded slightly, turned around and disappeared into the rain.

In the raindrops, only the aftertaste of his voice remained.

"Thank you for your suggestion."

(End of this chapter)