Chapter 440: A Clever Proposal
Lieutenant Colonel Fernand entered the officers' club, taking a seat at the bar and nodding to Lucia. "The usual—absinthe."
"Right away, Colonel."
Lucia expertly poured 30 milliliters of absinthe into a glass, placed a slotted spoon across the rim, and carefully set a sugar cube on top. The sugar was meant to soften the drink's bitterness. Then she slowly drizzled ice-cold water over the cube, watching it dissolve into the drink. She stopped at precisely 90 milliliters.
"Your drink, Colonel." Lucia slid the glass toward Fernand.
Fernand kept his gaze fixed on the glass. The moment he held it, he took a long, satisfying sip, exhaling as if relieved of a heavy burden.
"Busy lately?" Lucia asked with a polite smile. "You seem exhausted."
Chatting with guests was more than just good manners; it attracted more business to the club and served as Lucia's primary source of information.
"Busy?" Fernand replied with a wry smile. "Not at all. Charles has been handling everything. But you know what's worse than being busy? General Gallieni's attempt to find 'another Charles' among us."
Gariel, sitting nearby, couldn't hold back a laugh. "He's bound to be disappointed. There's only one Charles in the world."
He cast an envious glance at Lucia.
"Indeed." Fernand looked pained. "He's driving us all insane. Sometimes I wish Charles had never worked for the Defense Command."
After another sip, emboldened by the alcohol, he grumbled, "We're stuck here, toiling away while Charles is out there living it up…"
Lucia paused, surprised. "Living it up?"
"Sorry," Fernand said, shaking his head. "I meant fighting. That's what he lives for, after all—he's certainly good at it."
Everyone around them chuckled.
"And just recently," Fernand continued, "Charles actually threatened the Germans. He had leaflets dropped on them, saying, 'If you so much as harm a single Belgian civilian, I'll personally see each of you sent to the guillotine!' My God, that's what I've dreamed of doing myself!"
Lucia, who had been mixing a cocktail, froze for a moment, her movements slowing. "Did you say Charles threatened the Germans?"
"Yes," Fernand nodded. "And it seems to be working. The Germans have calmed down—they certainly don't want to lose their heads."
"Is that… is that really true?" Lucia asked, hardly able to believe it.
"Of course," Fernand replied, giving her a curious look. "It's no big secret. Why would I lie?"
Tears of relief sprang to Lucia's eyes. She set down the shaker and embraced Gariel in a burst of emotion, crying with joy.
She had been wrong—Charles wouldn't only save Belgium; he would save her family too.
Fernand looked bewildered, wondering if he had somehow misspoken.
…
Back in Antwerp, Charles finally had a chance to explore the fortress he was stationed in.
Antwerp's fortifications came in two types: pentagonal and triangular. The pentagonal forts, like the one Charles occupied, were larger and had more artillery. This one was equipped with two 150mm cannons, four 120mm cannons, two 200mm mortars, and four 77mm rapid-fire guns.
To Charles's surprise, all the cannons except the 77mm had dedicated elevator mechanisms. If necessary, the entire gun turret could be lowered underground for protection, only emerging to bombard advancing enemy troops.
The idea was excellent; it allowed the guns to avoid enemy attacks and then reemerge to launch devastating counterstrikes once enemy infantry came within range. But the Germans, with their massive "Big Bertha" guns, hadn't targeted the turrets specifically—they'd aimed to demolish the entire fortress.
Eager to see it in action, Charles ordered his men to test the elevator, lowering one of the 150mm cannons underground.
The experience was less than pleasant. The engine's roar echoed through the fortress walls, transforming the space into a resounding bell with everyone inside. Soon the air was thick with the smell of gasoline and exhaust fumes, filling the space with a visible haze.
Charles quickly ordered them to stop, inwardly cursing the poor design.
But then again, he reasoned, it was World War I—comfort had never been the priority, only survival. Comfort would have required more time and money than Belgium could afford.
At that moment, King Albert entered, covering his nose against the fumes.
Charles suggested, "Perhaps we should step outside, Your Majesty. I doubt you'll enjoy this smell."
"It's all right," Albert replied. "I should experience what the soldiers go through."
He put his hand down, attempting to breathe as usual, but a few breaths later, he was coughing. In the end, they decided to step outside, leaving the fortress door open behind them as smoke billowed out as though the place were on fire.
"I can breathe again," Tijani said, taking deep breaths of fresh air. "Give me a tent, and I'll sleep outside tonight."
"What about your guards?" Charles asked, amused. "Are they supposed to stay out here with you? I may not care if you're safe, but I'm sure they won't enjoy risking their lives in this smoke."
Tijani rolled his eyes. Charles, it seemed, cared more about the well-being of the guards than his friend's.
"It wasn't always like this," Albert said, slightly embarrassed. "Each engine originally had its own ventilation shaft, but they must have fallen into disrepair over time."
Charles nodded. The fortress had been left neglected during the German occupation. That the machinery even worked after a year's disuse was nothing short of miraculous.
After they'd had some fresh air, Albert turned to Charles, his tone thoughtful. "General, I've been considering something, and I wondered if you'd be interested."
"What is it?"
"There's a plot of land for sale north of Antwerp," Albert said. "It's quite cheap—only three million francs, less than half the market price. I was thinking, why not buy it and build a factory here? Antwerp has a port and is just a short channel crossing from England. It could be an ideal base for your business."
Tijani gave a low whistle. "Your Majesty, you're already thinking about postwar reconstruction."
"Of course," Albert replied with a smile. "Everyone knows Charles is not only a talented general but an excellent businessman."
Charles chuckled, seeing through Albert's suggestion. He understood that the king wasn't just offering him a great deal out of gratitude.
It was a clever proposal for another reason.
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