I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 96 Flying Club

(The picture above is the French Gypsy cigarette, born in 1910, known for its strong, impactful, and stimulating features, being one of the two common cigarettes in France at the time, the other being the French Gaul.)

Paris, Carter Flying Club.

The messy office was filled with smoke, and in the gentle jazz music, Carter, with a full beard, had half a cigarette between his fingers. The strong and pungent smoke of the Gypsy cigarette continuously rose in the black smoke’s burning, with a long section of ash on the cigarette tip, on the verge of falling.

Yet, Carter’s attention remained fixed on the paper and pen in his right hand.

Finally, the ash broke off and fell, and almost simultaneously, Carter slammed his pen onto the table, cursing, "Damn it, I can never get the accounts right!"

This was already Carter’s third attempt at calculations, but three attempts resulted in four answers, with each answer not matching the amounts.

"I need an accountant!" Carter complained, bringing the cigarette to his mouth and taking several fierce puffs, the tobacco joyfully jumping in the flame and releasing smoke.

Carter exhaled a long puff of smoke, slumping in his chair like a bundle of straw, thinking about whether he was really suitable for running this club.

Thinking back now, it was very likely that he started the flying club on a whim.

He fantasized about flying in the sky and bringing home the franks flying everywhere, but reality was a room full of broken parts and a floor full of rubbish, even the club sign was creaking in the cold wind.

"People these days don’t understand what flying is!" Carter said, looking weathered and harrowed.

What Carter was talking about was reality, in these times, almost everyone thought those flying planes were "reckless adventurers."

"They’ll always fall from the sky!" That was the common evaluation of pilots.

Hence, Carter could only turn the club into a dual-use for both military and civilian purposes, accepting missions from the military, allowing equally impoverished pilots to earn a meager income here, and keeping the club running.

Just as Carter was dejectedly pondering the direction of his life, the sound of a car engine roaring and hurried footsteps were heard from outside.

Soon, there was a knock on the door, and someone shouted, "Open the door, open the door! We are the French Army!"

Carter stood up lazily, frowning and cursing, "Rude guys..."

"Bang!" The door was slammed open, and several figures rushed in, holding guns.

Carter was instantly flustered, "Hey, hey, what do you want to do?"

He thought he was being robbed, but upon closer examination, they were all in uniforms, indeed soldiers.

The fear in Carter’s eyes instantly turned to anger, "Officer, this is my private territory. If you want a plane, you should tell me beforehand... and..."

Carter looked towards the door and saw at least a thousand soldiers gathered on the runway, all armed to the teeth, like facing a formidable enemy. He was scared stiff on the spot.

"And what?" A lieutenant strode in and stood in front of Carter.

"And..." Carter hesitated in answering, "Sorry, officer! I... I don’t have that many planes, if you want to go somewhere, I can’t take so many people!"

The lieutenant scoffed, took the ID handed over by the soldier, shone a flashlight on it, and asked without looking up, "The morning before yesterday, a plane from here flew to Antwerp, remember that?"

Carter thought for a while, then nodded, "Yes, Eric took the task. What happened?"

Damn, Eric must have caused some trouble, Carter thought. He had told him not to drink while on mission!

"Who instructed you to do this?" The lieutenant looked up and asked, beckoning to the soldier searching the room, reminding, "The cigarettes, there might be information hidden inside!"

The soldier carefully put the cigarettes into the document bag.

Carter was dumbfounded for a long time, not reacting, "What do you mean? Instructed? Information?"

The lieutenant raised his wrist, shone the flashlight on Carter’s face, like pointing a gun at his head, and repeated his words with emphasis, "Who instructed you to do this? Truth will do you good, Mr. Carter!"

"Wasn’t it a mission?" Carter thought there must be some misunderstanding, "I just followed your orders..."

"You don’t know the passenger was Shire?" The lieutenant asked again.

Carter answered, "I don’t know, officer! I was told it was a secret mission, not to ask..."

Suddenly, Carter realized something, his face stiffened, "What? Shire? You mean Shire, who invented the tank? He was the passenger that day?"

The lieutenant grunted, his mouth slightly lifting, "At last you remembered!"

"No, no, officer!" Carter’s eyes filled with fear, "I didn’t know he was Shire. If I knew, I would never send him to Antwerp, only a fool would do that, unless I were crazy..."

But the lieutenant ignored Carter’s explanations, he swung his arm forcefully, ordering, "Take him away!"

Several soldiers grabbed Carter and took him away, his pleas of innocence going unheard.

The lieutenant checked the long list in the flashlight’s beam, confirmed it was correct, and ran through the troops, standing at attention next to a convertible car, and reported, "All suspects under control, General!"

Gali grunted. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

He acted now to avoid creating too much noise and alerting the outside world, as the Germans were still only suspicious of Shire being in Antwerp.

If the Germans knew Gali had captured the airport manager, their "suspicion" would immediately turn into "confirmation," which would obviously be unfavorable to Shire.

Now, with Shire already on his way to Paris, they could round up these guys without any worries.

Gali shone the flashlight on the map in front of him and asked a series of questions in a deep voice:

"Are the surrounding roads blocked off?"

"Are all the torches in place?"

"Were the vantage points checked?"

Major General Monuri stepped forward to answer, "All arranged, General!"

To welcome Shire, Gali had deployed a whole infantry brigade of over seven thousand men around the flying club, worrying that someone might set up a machine gun at a vantage point to shoot down Shire’s plane.

Gali nodded and strode down the car, tightened his coat, and called out without turning his head, "Lauren!"

Major Laurent immediately appeared at his side, "Yes, General!"

Gali said expressionlessly, "You now know what to do, right?"

"Yes, General!" Lauren quickly straightened up and responded, "Follow Shire, without leaving him!"

Lauren could not forget his confinement over the past two days, nor the look in Gali’s eyes and his words.

"I trust you to be responsible for Shire’s safety!" Gali’s eyes were fierce, as if looking at an enemy, itching to pull Lauren out and shoot him, "But you let them take Shire from right under my nose. Do you know what this means? Do you know what this means for France? Do you understand what this means for the Army?"

Lauren was drenched in cold sweat. He even believed that if Shire didn’t return safely, he might spend the rest of his life in confinement, with no room for negotiation.

Fortunately, this did not happen! Thank God, Shire was about to return!

Lauren almost cried with emotion!