Chapter 357: If You Don't Sell, We'll Bomb
James had set up a VIP reception room on the second floor. The room was lavishly decorated, complete with fine wines, cigars, fruits, snacks, and everything one could ask for.
Djoka was arranged in the VIP room. He seemed somewhat nervous, sitting stiffly on the sofa, anxiously eyeing the surrounding decorations, not daring to touch anything.
As a commoner, he had once looked up to James as an idol. James was someone Djoka could never hope to reach, someone from a completely different world.
But now, Djoka was sitting in the VIP room, waiting to meet James face to face to discuss business.
It felt like a dream, and sometimes Djoka couldn't believe it was real.
In a daze, Djoka heard footsteps outside the door. He quickly stood up to greet them, hesitating for a moment as he adjusted his suit, which he had bought for this meeting, costing him over 1,500 francs.
With a crisp sound, the door opened, and James quickly walked in, smiling as he extended his hand for a handshake: "Hello, Mr. Djoka. I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to meet you here!"
"Mr. James, hello." Djoka responded nervously, a hint of apology in his eyes. "I hope my visit isn't disturbing you."
"No, no, of course not," James waved him off and gestured to the sofa. "You're just in time. I was thinking about how to wrap up that boring meeting."
As he spoke, James nodded toward the bar on the right and asked, "Coffee? Or perhaps some wine?"
"Coffee, thank you!"
Paulina quickly brought coffee and sugar cubes for both of them, and the room immediately filled with the rich aroma of the brew.
James leaned back on the sofa, took a sip of his coffee, and raised his cup toward Djoka: "I envy you, Mr. Djoka. You have a very talented son!"
This was the truth. James' sons were either idle rich kids or "factory managers," and they only sought to impress James in hopes of becoming his heir.
James had once thought that one or two of them might be decent, but compared to Charles, they seemed no different from beggars on the street.
"Yes." Djoka didn't deny it, and a proud smile spread across his face. "He is indeed exceptional, far beyond my expectations."
Then he remembered something and proceeded to explain the purpose of his visit: "I’ve come regarding your three steel factories in the northeast, Mr. James."
"The steel factories in the northeast?" James raised an interested eyebrow as he looked at Djoka. "But they're under German control."
"I know." Djoka answered, "I hope to buy them. What price would be suitable?"
James smiled and shook his head. "If that's the reason for your visit, then I’m afraid I must disappoint you. They are not for sale!"
James knew what Charles was thinking. He wanted to buy those factories at a low price while they were still under German control, and when the French army recaptured the territory, he would claim them.
But James wasn’t going to let that happen.
He wasn’t short of money, and he would rather let the factories rot in his hands!
However, Djoka’s tone was firm: "No, you will sell them. I hope you’ll think carefully."
James’ expression darkened, his eyes showing a hint of displeasure. No one could threaten him, not even Charles.
But James didn’t say anything. Djoka’s words must have some reason behind them—more precisely, Charles had his reasons.
What reason could that be?
"No!" After some thought, James finally shook his head. "You can tell Charles this: I believe he will lead the Allied forces to victory and help me reclaim these steel factories. I have great confidence in him!"
"So do I, Mr. James." Djoka stood up, shook James’ hand to say goodbye, and felt much more relaxed.
Djoka realized that James was no match for Charles. James was always one step behind.
If he were to have an idol, it was better to have Charles as his idol, even though he was his son.
As Djoka left, James couldn’t shake off the puzzle in his mind.
What could Charles possibly do with those factories? What could he do to force James to sell them?
No, it was impossible! Selling the steel factories would mean removing all the constraints James had over Charles, including the pressure from Wells.
So, there was no way he would sell them unless he was crazy! However, Schneider still hadn’t considered one particular possibility.
...
At the Paris City Defense Command, Charles submitted a combat plan to Gallieni.
"What’s this?" Gallieni opened the document and casually flipped through it.
"It’s the bombing plan for the next month," Charles replied. "We now have over a hundred bombers, and we're continuing to increase the number. I believe they shouldn’t just be used for bombing enemy airfields. The Germans have already taken precautions."
Gallieni nodded thoughtfully: "They've surrounded the airfields with various artillery and machine guns while working to increase the speed of their planes so they can catch up with our bombers."
"That’s why I plan to shift the focus to the steel factories." Charles said confidently.
"The steel factories?" Gallieni raised an eyebrow, then nodded slightly. "That makes sense. The steel factories are producing steel for the Germans, and from there, they turn it into rifles, machine guns, bullets, and tanks to shoot at us!"
"Exactly." Charles nodded, holding up the file. "The details of several steel factories are at the beginning of the document. With these, the Germans don’t even need to transport supplies from their own country. They’ve made full use of the steel factories and set up several munitions factories in the northeast, which cover most of their needs on the Western Front."
This was true. The intelligence came from the "White Lady."
If the French government didn’t believe it, they could send spies from the "Second Bureau" to investigate, and they would find the same information.
Gallieni flipped to the beginning and took a look, then nodded slightly.
"The plan is fine, but..."
"The workers in those steel factories are mostly French. How will you avoid civilian casualties?"
"Moreover, although these steel factories are under German control, they are still capitalist properties. Carrying out such an operation could be troublesome."
Charles had already thought of a solution, and answered calmly: "We can drop leaflets before the bombing, telling the workers to take cover. That’s all we can do, after all, this is war."
Gallieni sighed but still nodded in agreement with Charles’s reasoning.
If they held back due to fears of collateral damage, the Germans would only need to send a few French workers into battle with them.
If they hesitated too much and were tied down by too many concerns, they might as well surrender outright.
"As for the capitalists..." Charles continued, "If the lives of the French workers can be sacrificed, what are their properties worth?"
Gallieni immediately understood.
If the capitalists dared to resist, they could expect to face the wrath of the French people!