"Just take care of your President." Fatty waved his hand, his gaze turning to the porthole, "As for the old man's affairs, we'll handle them ourselves."
"Fatty..." Margaret felt her heart tighten, a sense of foreboding confirmed by Fatty's face, as hard and cold as iron.
Nobody understood Fatty better than she did. She knew that once pushed to the edge, this guy was scarier than the craziest madman in the world! The expression on Fatty's face now was exactly like those usually timid and weak people, brandishing a knife when finally pushed to their limits and charging at bullies.
There was a kind of suppressed hysteria, a frightening neuroticism.
"I need to make a call." Fatty ignored Margaret. He looked straight out the window, images of meeting Bernadotte continuously replaying in his mind like a movie.
At the Military Academy in Gallipalan. The old man with a stern face, after a speech full of praise, sent him off to the Kato Front......
