Paris, 01:12 AM.
The Élysée Palace.
Only a few rooms flickered with warm light.
Moreau waited.
His coat was slung over a chair, sleeves rolled to the forearms.
He looked at the clock again.
01:16.
He didn't pace.
He didn't fidget.
He simply stood near the window, staring at the silhouettes of the Grand Palais rooftops and thinking how easily the entire country could've collapsed had a single column been delayed, a speech fumbled, or the President betrayed them.
Footsteps.
Slow.
The door opened.
General Maurice Gamelin stepped into the room, his coat buttoned, his expression unreadable.
He didn't remove his hat.
He didn't salute.
Moreau didn't either.
They regarded one another across the long table in silence.
Moreau gestured toward the chairs. "Please."
Gamelin walked to the opposite end and sat down stiffly
"The last time we saw each other, General without any poltics" Moreau began, "you came to inspect the PAP gun trials."
