Goebbels watched as they boarded the U.S. Military's "Hercules," its lights flickering as it soared into the sky!
The heavy rain poured down, the droplets slipping off clothes and falling to the ground, splashing reflections in which one could vaguely see the Minister of Propaganda's serpentine gaze.
The secretary beside him hurriedly held an umbrella over his head, thoughtfully handing him a prepared tissue, "Sir, shall we return to the Official Residence?"
"How could I possibly sleep?" Goebbels took a deep breath, "The north is in complete disarray; those drug traffickers are making a comeback, and the general's safety is not guaranteed out there, my mind is filled with worries."
"I heard that Mr. Casare was so angry when he heard about the general's assassination attempt that he even smashed his favorite expensive watch," the secretary whispered softly on the side.
