Re: Blood and Iron-Chapter 503: Double Agent Part II

While Pétain and Bruno were meeting in Zurich. Paris was wide open for the first operation of the Gallian Militia, which had been reforged under a new banner known as Réveil de France.

Soldiers of the National Restorative Government walked through the streets, in uniform, with rifles slung over their shoulders, as the moon was blotted out by the dark storm clouds that threatened to burst at any moment.

Yet the city's streetlights, or at least those that had been rebuilt on this particular strip of rode provided illumination for the two soldiers, mere sentries, as they smoked and walked through the streets.

"So, did you hear? New weapons will be flooded across the border within the next 72 hours… Apparently that old flamboyant prick actually managed to secure a deal with the Lion of Tyrol…"

The other soldier took the cigarette right out from under his friend's mouth and smoked the remainder of its contents in their entirety before stomping it beneath his boot. After which he blew the smoke straight in the man's face, while calling him out on his statement and the origin of it.

"Yeah? Where the hell did you hear such a thing? Our Sarge didn't mention it to me at all!"

The French youth, barely old enough to carry a rifle just chuckled, as he subtly hinted at his source of information.

"Let's just say I heard it from someone up the chain of command while delivering a letter to the Colonel, and leave it at that... Trust me, man, this war will be over soon. And finally…. Things can go back to normal…"

The skeptical soldier shook his head in disagreement with his wide-eyed friend's take.

"Normal? Look around you, man, what the fuck is normal? Paris is a fucking ruin! We have to resort to extorting the peasants in the countryside for fucking food to feed its survivors, and those streetlights take up more fucking power than we can reasonably sustain generation of.

And you think we're going to just magically go back to the way our country was before the war? No… There's no going back, and rebuilding this shithole is going to be a bigger task than gaining control over its ruins."

The two men quickly got into a heated argument over the future of France, not noticing that the nearby "vagrants" were listening to every word they were saying while pretending to sleep in the ruined streets.

---

Not far away from the city was the farmstead where De Gaulle's new headquarters were . It was not long after the information was observed being spoken by the two sentries did it reach the ears of the resistance.

And this had many of them in panic. As they argued about what this meant for their insurgency operations, which had yet to properly begin.

"New weapons? Like what? Are we expecting Panzers to enter France now? If Pétain and his goons get their hands on such things, the war is as good as over, and his dictatorship will reign supreme!

Are we really going to sit idly by and let that old vampire suck the lifeblood out of our country!?! Damn fucking Germans! They really won't be satisfied until France is on her knees groveling before them as a slave!"

These words in particular drew not only De Gaulle's attention, but Maximilian's as well, who was still posing as a local resistance member named "Axel." Though Maximilian remained silent, he watched and waited for De Gaulle's response, hoping not to draw unwanted attention to himself for inserting his own opinion and trying to manipulate the consensus.

Luckily for him, De Gaulle seemed to be of a similar mindset. As he questioned the authenticity of the intelligence received from Paris.

"The telegraph stated the origins of the intelligence were two enlisted sentries, young men on a walk through a dimly lit street, where they were bored and trying to pass the time. The only reference we have is that this information may have come from a colonel, or someone within the chain of command he reported to.

But we have as much evidence that this is valid intel as we do that it is nonsense. Until this information is properly verified, there is no need to panic. Let alone make a move, understood?

No, our plans remain the same. Continue to monitor Maxime Weygand. I want to know his whereabouts at all times, and his daily schedule. Once we have confirmed an opportunity, we will take him out. And hopefully before Pétain returns from Switzerland.

Now, unless you want to continue arguing over what is little more than schoolyard gossip, get me some god damn actionable fucking intel!"

The discourse broke immediately, as the rebel fighters murmured while walking off completely disgruntled. All the while De Gaulle sighed heavily and shook his head. Approaching Maximilian who remained behind and sequestering him away from the others.

"Not you… You stay… I need to have a word with you, alone…."

Maximilian did as he was instructed, standing before De Gaulle's sharp and inquisitive gaze, while remaining utterly silent. Ultimately, he found himself under an intense line of questioning he had not been expecting.

"Are you going to tell me the truth? I thought by now, I would have earned that respect…"

Maximilian was not acting, he was genuinely confused as he tried to comprehend what the Former French General, turned resistance leader was referring to.

"Sir… I'm not quite sure-"

Yet De Gaulle's hand raised, silencing him immediately, as he was quick to cut Maximilian off.

"Save it… You don't believe after the years I have spent in the field, I can't spot a military man when I see him? I don't remember you having been in Ypres with us when we were in the thick of it. Nor did you immediately volunteer to fight for the Gallian Militia when we were purging Paris and the surrounding areas from criminals, degenerates, and Marxists.

But you're not like the rest of these pathetic little boys playing as soldier. And it's not just because of you are significantly older than this rabble. Where did you serve? And when?"

Maximilian suddenly found himself in a dangerous spot, and without the ability to call for extraction. He did not quite know if his cover was blown yet, or if he was still in a position to salvage it. All he knew was that whether or not he lived, or died, depended entirely on what he said next.