'Albania, Albania.', Prussia said and pulled them aside.
'You gotta help me. And yourself.', he said while breathing heavily.
For a moment he was breathing through. Its was WW2, 1943.
The Prussian wore a shirt with trousers, no uniform. 'Please- Before judging me. For- For anything. Listen to me. You help Jews escape dont you? You help them?', he said and looked into their eyes.
'I dont know how, by god I swear I didnt know earlier nor would I even tell. But the Nazis got clues from someone that you do so. And well, you gotta run. Its not a long time until theyll decide to hunt you down. And whoever helps you. They'll torture you and imprison you and I- I dont want that.', Gilbert said.
'You gotta go in the South. Into hot areas. If I understood right from their strategies, they won't be prepared for the hot weather. The sun will burn them. But you know about the scorching sun. I hope. Even if the Nazis are going to invade Africa. They wont make it past the Sahara desert. They wont make it to Tanganyika. Its a British colony, try tl get her and find Aadila. She knows me. She'll be glad to give you a place to stay.'
He talked lile a waterfall. Words fell out of his mouth as he nervously looked around and held Albania's shoulders. 'I- I'd like to come along.', he said. 'Noone with a bit of Sanity would let me on. But please. I dont think Germany has the ability to longer hold them off from torturing me.', he said.
The Albino was shaking and his ego fragile and breaking. He was truly afraid. 'its important that you are safe.', Gilbert added.
That was a waterfall of information.