Re: Blood and Iron

Months had passed since Pétain crushed the Gallian Militia and claimed Paris. But peace did not follow, at least not the kind he imagined.

For a while, there was utter silence from de Gaulle. Despite his attempts to pursue the man, the legend had disappeared in the mists, like a ghost. And while that was a bitter pill to swallow, Pétain had some peace, thinking that his greatest rival had just decided to ride off into the sunset and admit defeat.

But this was not reality, no… de Gaulle and the surviving members of his Gallian Militia, had taken time to rebuild, infiltrate the new government in Paris, and gain support from the masses.

Currently, however, de Gaulle was hiding in the rural areas outside of Paris. He lived hidden in the root cellar of a humble farming family. One with no suspected ties to him or the revolution.

Currently, he was sitting under ground, a cigarette in one hand, as he pointed at the map on the table. Illuminated solely by an oil lantern, as he discussed his plans for the future with a grim expression on his face.

“I won’t lie to you all… These last few months have been easy on all of us and have tested the resolve of many among you… But we have not been sitting idly by to merely be forgotten. No, we have been biding our time to make a grand reappearance.

And no greater opportunity has revealed itself than now… On Friday. Pétain will be travelling to Geneva to meet with our most hated enemy. This intelligence comes directly from his inner circle.

While he is away, one of our greatest targets will be left in control of Paris. In antiquated terms, you might consider him a regent while the King is away on diplomacy.

Our target is Maxime Weygand… As many of you know, after Pétain secured Paris and challenged the other warlords. Maxime was the only one to voluntarily submit to the new National Restoration Government. Securing his position as Pétain’s second in command, and successor.

He’s more competent than Pétain, and many believe he’s the one truly running the country. If we can take him out, the progress Pétain has made these last few months, providing stability and support to the people of his territory will rapidly deteriorate. And when that happens more people will flock to our side.

Axel… I want you in charge of plotting the assassination. We cannot fail here, lest our entire revolution will die in its infancy, understood?”

A man stepped forward. He was old… Too old to have fought in the Great War as a conscript. Perhaps an officer? Yet he did not have the bearing of such a man.

He had short and messy orange hair that had begun to fade into grey. And unkempt mutton chops of a similar hue. His eyes were emerald, and he spoke with a perfect Parisian accent, despite currently being dressed like a farmhand.

“Understood… I will make sure that the target does not live to see mass on Sunday… Is there anything I should know before I prepare the operation?”

De Gaulle said nothing… A recent recruit, Axel had joined only after the fall of the Gallian Militia. Yet he had already proven himself an exceptionally capable and loyal asset to the resistance. So much so that the aging general couldn’t help but suspect he was an angel sent by the Lord to save France from its current woes.

“No… I trust you judgement Axel. Do as you see fit…”

With this said, the de Gaulle quickly adjourned the meeting, where Axel departed to begin his preparations for the assassination.

—

Axel quickly splintered off from the group of rebels hiding out in the countryside and found himself in an old and shoddy barn. Where he was quick to crack open a wooden cask, which appeared upon first glance to be filled with hay.

However, the moment he lifted the false interior from within the container, a small portable radio revealed itself. The man quickly got on the wire and sent a message east. Which, through an attached enigma device was perfectly encrypted.

The message was read across the Rhine in Berlin by agents of the Reich and its military intelligence. Who quickly decoded its contents and relayed them to Bruno in Tyrol. Who read them aloud to Eva who was sitting across from him during another one of her daily lessons.

“It would appear that the French Resistance against Pétain’s new government intends to strike at his second in command when I meet with him in a few days in Geneva. You can thank your uncle for gathering this intelligence for us.

Even in his old age, that man continues to act as a field agent. I can’t complain, though. The information he has gathered for the Reich has been invaluable on a variety of fronts. Still, I do worry for his safety, sooner or later he may find himself facing a shallow unmarked grave his he doesn’t retire soon…”

Eva’s eyes grew wide with concern as she jumped out of her seat in panic.

“Uncle Max is in danger? Why don’t you extract him immediately?”

Bruno sighed and gazed at his daughter, shaking his head in disappointment as he clicked his tongue thrice to make this fact abundantly clear.

“Calm yourself…. If you are one day going to be assisting your future husband in ruling this nation, you will need to think with clear and collected thoughts devoid of personal attachment, even when it regards your own flesh and blood in a dire crisis. Anything less will only further endanger them….”

Eva sat down, visibly flustered, feeling quite embarrassed by her own perceived inadequacy. So much so, that Bruno sighed and smiled gently, trying to assure the girl that she hadn’t completely failed in his expectations of her growth.

“Relax, Eva, like I said you have a long way to go. Luckily for you, I’m here to guide your journey. Your uncle is fine for now. I’m just expressing my fears of what could happen to him in the future if he doesn’t give up his current position.

Now that you have had some time to breathe, and think things through. How do you think we should proceed?”

Bruno was right. Eva indeed had time to calm herself and her mind. And when she did so, she once more broke out into a smug smirk as she cast her father a witty retort.

“Oh? So it’s we now is it? Wasn’t it just a few days ago you said I am not yet fit to dictate national foreign policy? What changed?”

Bruno couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s remarks as she shoved his own words back in his face. In fact, he had to admit she had defeated him at his own game just now with a single utterance.

“Touche…”

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