I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start Chapter 202 202: Part of the Plan

Charles wasn't ready to let Gallieni off so easily. He added, "I need Parliant to convene today and make a decision, or I'll refuse to provide reinforcents for Cape Town."

Gallieni was taken aback by Charles's demand. He had fully intended to take up the matter in Parliant, where he could argue persuasively in favor of Charles commanding his own forces rather than being sidelined as he was now. He believed that after Charles rescued the sons and nephews of key parliantarians, they would agree to his request.

However...

"Isn't this a matter for later?" Gallieni said, his expression unreadable as he looked at Charles. "Parliant could spend days debating this, while rescuing Cape Town is a matter of life and death…"

Before he could finish, Gallieni paused, understanding dawning on his face. "This is part of your strategy, isn't it?"

"Yes," Charles replied evenly. "I'm making a statent over the reassignnt of the First Air Squadron and using this opportunity to demand a clear commitnt from Parliant."

Gallieni nodded in appreciation. "Smart thinking. This way, the Germans will assu they're still up against Joffre and not you."

Gallieni added, "Then, you'd better hurry, Major. The Germans may already have reinforcents on the way. The longer this drags on, the more dangerous it becos."

In his Paris villa, the influential Mr. Wells was pacing frantically, feeling as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. Hands clasped behind his back, he stomped around the living room, cursing bitterly:

"I should have let him die on the battlefield!"

"That fool! I'd made sure he had a position waiting for him in the Navy—a bright career path ahead. But no, he insisted on joining the infantry."

Mrs. Brest, visibly pale and frightened, sat quietly on the sofa, silently crying, regretting ever supporting Tijani's decision to enter Saint-Cyr Military Academy. If she had known it would lead to this, she would never have encouraged him.

Suddenly, Wells stopped in his tracks. "Tijani was supposed to be working logistics in Paris. When did he beco commander of the Second Special Artillery Division?"

Mrs. Brest kept her head down, not daring to answer, but the butler ventured a reply. "Sir, it was the tanks that captured young master Tijani's attention. He heard Joffre was forming a second special artillery division and signed up without telling you."

Wells clenched his jaw. It seed everyone had known about Tijani's secret plan except him.

Biting back his anger, Wells scoffed. "Our family has built half the navy for France, and yet he's entranced by so little tank!"

The butler spoke up again, "Sir, young master Tijani believes weapons only have value on the battlefield. Otherwise, they're just…"

Wells shot him a glare, and the butler fell silent, swallowing the rest of the sentence. Those were Tijani's own words: "A weapon, no matter how impressive or well-designed, is just a display piece in the parlor if it never sees combat. True weapons co alive only amid the blood and death of the battlefield."

To him, the French Navy was that "display piece"—a force that rarely saw action, given that the Royal Navy handled most of France's naval defenses. This was why Tijani, despite his father's vehent objections, had chosen the Army and even risked his relationship with his father to do so.

Wells had thought the hardships and strict discipline of Army training would force Tijani to return, but instead, he'd endured it for seven long years, never wavering. It was then Wells understood that Tijani's dream of becoming the next Napoleon was no passing fancy—it was his lifelong ambition.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of the telephone startled Mrs. Brest, who looked toward the sound with fear in her eyes, as if dreading more bad news. The butler moved to answer, but Wells held up a hand and took the call himself, suspecting it might be Gallieni.

As expected, Gallieni's slightly raspy voice sounded on the other end, calm but urgent. "I'm afraid only Charles can save those trapped forces, Mr. Wells."

"Yes, I agree," Wells answered hastily. "Charles should take command imdiately!"

"But there are two issues, sir."

"What are they?"

"First, the command authority is not with Charles. It's still Joffre who commands the forces at Cape Town."

"That's hardly an issue. Parliant originally granted the Defense Command in Paris authority over this matter. Cutting ties with Defense Command was Joffre's unilateral decision, and now he's failed. Given that, command should naturally revert to you."

Gallieni didn't respond imdiately. "There's another problem, sir. You're aware of the First Air Squadron—Charles's own trained air unit, including his rocket planes and machine-gun planes—but it was reassigned by Joffre just before the battle…"

"Yes, I know about that," Wells interrupted, eager to get things moving. "Control of the squadron should go back to Charles. Don't worry, I'll handle it."

"No, Mr. Wells," Gallieni said, his tone becoming firm. "That's not quite what I an. Charles wants more than that."

"What does he want?" Wells asked, puzzled. He wanted to get the conversation over with as soon as possible and have reinforcents sent out imdiately, but Gallieni seed to be drawing things out.

"He wants assurance that this won't happen again," Gallieni replied. "You understand that he also has a tank unit under his command, which he personally trained. He's not willing to see his forces reassigned with the stroke of a pen after investing so much effort. He believes…"

"I'll see to it!" Wells cut in. "All of it. His request is entirely reasonable. There's no justification for seizing control of his forces. It would kill not only his motivation but that of others as well…"

"He's already lost motivation."

"What?"

Gallieni sighed. "He refuses to take command unless Parliant gives him a commitnt."

"But now isn't the ti for this kind of discussion…"

"I understand the urgency of reinforcents," Gallieni replied. "But officially, Charles is still a minor. He's free to be stubborn like a child, and there's nothing we can do about it."

Wells realized Gallieni was right. There was nothing they could do to force Charles into action. What could they do—court-martial him for insubordination? Charles had a hundred ways to justify his refusal to command, all of them completely legitimate.

Reluctantly, Wells conceded, "I'll convene Parliant at once and ensure Charles gets the answer he wants."

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