Tải xuống ứng dụng
6.25% REINCARNATED: HITLER'S RIGHT HAND MAN / Chapter 2: Mein Führer - Sieg Heil

Chương 2: Mein Führer - Sieg Heil

Almost every room that President Bowmore had seen Hitler enter was one full of howling German folk, or Nazi Officials. Hitler would enter with his arm held in a frozen wave, his elbow jutting into his side, and the palm of his hand at his shoulder, his fingers squeezed together tightly. The crowd would errupt into cheer, or the Officers would salute. But Hitler entered quietly, only accompanied by one other man, a tall and burly bloke who very much resembled one of the US Presidents own bodyguards. 

"Adolf, how are you?" Goebbels politely asked. He'd stood up immediatly, and, not having a better idea, President Bowmore rose as well. He was betting on this being a dream. The fear he felt was certainly much more like the fear he'd felt in dreams. In reality he could defend himself, he could move, he could call for help, and under his desk he even kept a pistol. But in dreams he was helpless, he wasn't the President anymore, he was a school-boy again who got bullied, or he was the man his ex-wife had left him to be, alcoholic and depressed. He didn't heard what Hitler answered to Goebbels but his attention fully returned as the Reichskanzler turned his eyes onto him. 

"Und Sie sind? (and you are)?" He asked coldly. Hitler's voice, so different from the audios he heard, made shivers run down President Bowmores spine. The man no longer sounded like a raging and rabid wolf, he sounded like a regular man, one of authority, but not a mad-man. The unknown american's face that was criss-crossed with worry lines made Hitler laugh. "I'm just joking! Why so serious!" He reached out and delightidly shook the strangers hand. The friendly manner in which Hitler had greet him caused the President's shock to prolong itself. But, being the man of power he was, and still believing this was a dream, he regained his composure momentarily. 

"A pleasure to meet you to!" He answered, giving Hitler's hand a firm squeeze. "My name is Alistair Bowmore."

"Like the whiskey!" Hitler cried out gleefully. The men all had a laugh, even President Bowmore joined. What a strange dream, he thought, I wouldn't expect a dream featuring Hitler and Goebbels to be so friendly, maybe it was drugs? "I've brought cigars. Joseph, please shut the window, I hate the cold..." Hitler asked. Goebbels nodded and sprung backwards to close the window. President Bowmore hadn't even noticed the cold until Hitler had pointed it out. It gave him all the more reason to believe that the strange scenario was a dream. And had Hitler smoked cigars? Wasn't that more Churchhills thing? "And you are a friend of Josephs?" Hitler asked as he pulled up a second chair. 

"No in fact, I'm here because of a mix-up." The US President replied warmly. "I walked into the wrong office I suppose."

"You have a bit of an accent, not Russian I hope?" Hitler asked with a twinkle in his eyes. He was joking; had the man been a Russian he would have acted differently. This man was too Western. 

"No, no. No worries. I'm an American. We hate the communists just as much as you do." After saying it President Bowmore felt bad. Hitler had had many communists murdered, they'd been one of the first batches of victims in the concentration camps. But Hitler liked his answer and laughed again. In the last five minutes Bowmore had seen Hitler laugh more than all of the footage he'd seen of him put together. There was a different side to Hitler; a side that went lost in the photography of the second world war. 

Goebbels returned, sat on his chair behind the desk and leaned back. "Do we really need to discuss the matters we had planned? I'm too tired today. My head is heavy. Why don't we treat ourselves to Whiskey instead?"

"If Bowmore is already here..." Hitler added, once again playing on the origin of the unexpected guests name. Goebbels proceeded to open the bottom drawer of the desk (where President Bowmore kept his pistol back in his office) pulled out a caramel-colored whiskey in a crystal bottle and opened it, pouring it into three equally beautifull and intricate glasses. The design was very German, there were more straight lines than round ones. A difference between the Germans and the Soviets. In the meantime Hitler had begun to chat with Bowmore. He sat with one leg crossed over the other; something still common for men to do at that time. Stalin often sat as so as well, something President Bowmore had noticed early on in his studies. Funny that it was seen as 'gay' or 'unmanly' now. Bowmore allowed himself the rare pleasure of sitting the same way; finally he was seen simply as a polite intellectual for doing it and not as a 'leftist'. 

"Your German is not bad, apart from the slight accent. Are you a translator?" Hitler had asked him. Unsure of what to respond, Alistair Bowmore decided to play it safely; he'd go along with Hitler as far as it was safe. In no way could he say he was a journalist; that could get him killed. If Hitler asked further questions he'd admit to being a literary translator who had friends in politics. 

"Yes. I was required to translate a message from the States for one of the members of parlament. That's why I'm here." Er sprach die Lüge ohne das geringste Augenzucken; politicans have the rare gift of lying splendidly. 

"English is a strange langauge to learn." Hitler agreed; playing down the necessity of his member politicians to learn english. "If everyone speaks German we wouldn't even need that bastardly language at all!" Goebbels laughed, and Bowmore smiled. He gratefully accepted one of the Whiskey glasses. The all clinked them together. "Prost!" 

"Prost!" Goebbels and Bowmore echoed. The whiskey tasted good, rather sweet. Bowmore could tell that it was an aged one. 


Chương 3: Hungover and the Vice President

President Bowmore woke up with a splitting headache. It felt as if he'd drunken the whole night, which he hadn't. The only drinks he'd had were either coffee or water. Is it the Flu season? He thought, but quickly remembered what time of year it was. Impossible, it was still too warm for the Flu. He'd had a strange dream, but before he could try and recall it someone burst into his office. Funny, he'd dreamt something along those lines, someone had come into this very office unannounced...

"Mr President sir," his secretary softly called, "should I send the Vice President in or not? She says she has something important to tell you." His secretary was one of the best, she never allowed anyone inside without warning him, especially because she knew he sometimes fell asleep at the presidential desk. 

"Send her in." He said, simply waving his hand. He didn't really care about what Vice President Gibson thought about him. She was an old time friend, someone he knew would never kick dirt on him. Abby, his secratary nodded and left, leaving the door open for the second-in-command. 

"Good morning, Mr. President." Lottie said as she stutted inside. She smiled at her friend and superior. "Did you sleep well?" President Bowmore just shook his head. He was too tired to respond with a witty sentence. "I think we ought to turn your desk into a bed, otherwise you're going to get back problems from staying her so often." She joked. He just nodded his head and as he'd done with Abby before; waved his hand in the air noncholantly. 

"What did you want to tell me, Lottie?" He asked. 

"Are you alright?" She repeated, drawing her eyebrows high. "You seem...hungover."

"I didn't drink anything last night." Bowmore answered swiftly. "I swear." He added as he saw that her expression still hadn't relaxed. 

"If you say so." She obviously didn't believe him, but what was she supposed to do? Would this type of behaviour occur constantly she'd stage an intervention, or simply hide all the alcohol in the White House from him, but this was truely the first time she'd seen the Country's Best Man hungover. "I'm here to talk about the Ukraine-."

"I had a weird dream last night, Lottie." He suddenly said, interrupting her. "I don't really remember what it was about...it's on the tip of my tongue, or my mind rather...why can't I?...whatever. What were you saying about the, about the...about..." 

"About the Ukraine." She said, feeding him the lines. He nodded and, after rubbing his eyes, propped his elbows on the table, rested his face on his knuckles and stared at her. 

"Then tell me, what is it?" 

"Mr. President, do you want to take the day, or at least the morning, off? If I'm not mistaken you don't have any meetings until noon. I can talk with the Defense Secretary and the State Secretary. They can work on solutions with their team, which I can present to you in a few days. All you need to answer is wether we should keep sending them aid."

"Do what you think is right, Lottie. I'm too tired to make the desciosion myself, but I'm sure that I'd pick the same you would." He rubbed his eyes again. Where was this tiredness coming from? Had someone poisoned him. Ah! That had been it! He'd dreamt something similiar, he was sure he'd thought he'd been drugged in his dream as well, perhaps this was some sort of placebo-effect. 

"Alright. I think you should go to your room, Alistair." She said, calling him out. "It would be for the best. I'll send someone in to check on you around twelve, in case you're not up." She gave him a pityfull smile and turned to march out of his office again. 

"Wait, Lottie." He said. She stopped. He looked at her for a long second. "Thank you. Truely. I don't know what's with me today, but I simply can't." His voice was flat. "Thank you." He repeated. 

"You're welcome Mr. President. Now I've got work to do, see you later." The Vice President took her leave, closing the door behind her. President Bowmore was sure that she'd tell Abby to come inside if he didn't leave in a few minutes. He shrugged, there was nothing to do, not in this state. It felt as if he'd only slept three hours, four tops, even though from the time he'd taken rest up till the hour he'd awoke at least six and a half hours had passed. 

And why was he so hungover? 

He stood up, pushed his chair in and crossed the room. As he reached for the doorknob the dream, suddenly as if carried on angels wings, resurfaced in his mind. He remembered everything, in detail. Goebbles and Hitler! He laughed aloud. That had been one heck of a dream. "Good thing our brains aren't monitored yet, if it came out in the press that I'd dreamt about socializing with Hitler..." He opened the door, still laughing and shaking his head. 

Abby looked up from her desk. "Nice to see you're up and well, Mr. President." She said politely. He smiled at her and nodded in her direction. One of the first things he'd learned in politics was to never ignore someone, even if you weren't listening, just awknowlage them, otherwise you were seen as incredibly rude. 

He took the elevator to the top floor. The upwards rush made his stomache lurch. He sincerely felt hungover. Perhaps Hitler's whiskey is so good one feels it though dreams, he thought amusedly. Those thoughts were the last ones about the dream that occupied the President that day. He had more important things to think about than strange dreams. Little did he know how important these dreams would become, and how they'd end up playing a vital, even central role in his life as President of the United States. 


Load failed, please RETRY

Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần

Đặt mua hàng loạt

Mục lục

Cài đặt hiển thị

Nền

Phông

Kích thước

Việc quản lý bình luận chương

Viết đánh giá Trạng thái đọc: C2
Không đăng được. Vui lòng thử lại
  • Chất lượng bài viết
  • Tính ổn định của các bản cập nhật
  • Phát triển câu chuyện
  • Thiết kế nhân vật
  • Bối cảnh thế giới

Tổng điểm 0.0

Đánh giá được đăng thành công! Đọc thêm đánh giá
Bình chọn với Đá sức mạnh
Rank 200+ Bảng xếp hạng PS
Stone 0 Power Stone
Báo cáo nội dung không phù hợp
lỗi Mẹo

Báo cáo hành động bất lương

Chú thích đoạn văn

Đăng nhập

tip bình luận đoạn văn

Tính năng bình luận đoạn văn hiện đã có trên Web! Di chuyển chuột qua bất kỳ đoạn nào và nhấp vào biểu tượng để thêm nhận xét của bạn.

Ngoài ra, bạn luôn có thể tắt / bật nó trong Cài đặt.

ĐÃ NHẬN ĐƯỢC