Paris – November 11, 1937 – 8:12 AM
The decision had to be made before noon.
Claire, Émile, Solène, and Madeleine sat around a small wooden table in a backroom of a shuttered bookstore in the Marais. The room smelled of ink and dust, and something heavier — fear masked as strategy.
The envelope lay open between them, the pages unfolded like a loaded gun.
— "If we hand this to the press," Claire began, "we'll bring down an entire branch of the government."
— "And burn every bridge we ever crossed," Émile added.
Madeleine leaned back, cigarette untouched between her fingers.
— "Truth doesn't choose sides, chérie. But it does choose its timing."
Solène tapped the table twice.
— "What if we go halfway? Leak the order, but not the signature. Force an internal war. Let them devour themselves."
Claire looked at Émile.
— "Would that work?"
He nodded slowly.
— "It wouldn't be clean. But it might buy us time. And confusion is its own kind of weapon."
—
Ministry of Defense – 9:07 AM
The ministers argued. Red folders flew between hands. Someone screamed about national honor. Another whispered about treason.
In the corner, a woman from Internal Intelligence quietly slipped a note into her coat.
It read:
"They chose the fire."
—
Paris – Newsroom of Le Matin – 9:45 AM**
A man in a gray coat delivered an envelope to the editor-in-chief. No name. No sender.
Inside: the order to eliminate Reiner.
Signature: redacted.
Headline drafted within minutes:
"The Chancellor and the Ghost Order: Who Pulled the Strings?"
—
By the Seine – 10:03 AM
Claire closed her eyes as the morning bells rang.
— "It's started."
Émile checked his watch.
— "No turning back now."
From across the river, smoke began to rise. Not from battle. From the press.
The game had changed.
But the rules?
They hadn't existed for a long time.