I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 98

Chapter 98: A Different Kind of "Protection"

Charles didn’t sense anything unusual; he only noticed that the number of guards outside the airport had doubled or even tripled.

This seemed normal enough. Once people learned that Charles was directing operations at the airport, they flooded toward it like a tide. Crowds encircled the area layer upon layer, leaving not even a single gap. The runways meant for takeoff were even packed with people.

At this rate, forget about eating or sleeping—taking off planes to engage the enemy would be difficult.

Fortunately, soldiers soon arrived to restore order. They drove the crowds away and placed the airport under strict protection.

That night, Charles stayed in the officers’ quarters at the airport.

This was because the battle situation was still unresolved, and Charles needed to continue directing airport operations. The entire city was now relying on Charles’ "planes and cannons" to hold off the Germans and secure final victory. Naturally, he couldn’t leave his post so easily.

What puzzled Charles, however, was that the guards had also “protected” the planes.

What were they worried about?
Were they afraid the pilots would sabotage the planes?

Everything had been fine before the guards arrived. Was all this really necessary?
But Charles didn’t dwell on it. After washing up, he went straight to bed.

...

Under the clear moonlight and a crisp autumn breeze, a carriage moved leisurely toward the airport gate. It stopped when it reached the guards, who glanced at the documents handed to them, peered through the window, and then allowed it to pass.

The guards didn’t notice that the deep tracks in the dirt and the heavy sway of the carriage hinted at more than one person inside.

The carriage finally stopped in front of the officers’ quarters. A man in uniform stepped out, adjusted his military hat, and headed straight for Charles’ room.

The guards stationed downstairs only glanced his way before resuming their idle pacing. As they turned away, a few figures crept silently from the shadows of the carriage...

A drowsy Charles was woken by a knock at the door. He groggily lit a lamp and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 11:30. Who would visit at this hour?
“Who is it?” Charles asked.

Since the “kidnapping incident” in the town of Lavaux, Charles had been on high alert for anything unusual—even with guards stationed all around him.

“It’s me, Winter!” came General Winter’s voice from outside.

Puzzled, Charles got up and opened the door. Standing there in full military attire was General Winter. Under the lamplight, Charles noticed his expression was rather unusual.

“My apologies for disturbing you at this hour, Lieutenant,” General Winter said as he removed his hat and stepped inside. “We’re very eager to know how you managed to mount cannons onto planes. Could we discuss this?”

So that’s what this is about? Charles yawned widely and muttered to himself: Can’t this wait until tomorrow? Just one more night? At daybreak, anyone could see that they were simply Congreve rockets...

General Winter handed Charles a slip of paper and made a meaningful gesture. But he kept talking as if nothing was amiss: “Please forgive our curiosity, Lieutenant. They’re quite anxious, you know. This weapon could play a critical role on the battlefield, and they think every moment counts...”

Charles unfolded the paper. It read:

“You must leave immediately. General Gillis and certain members of Parliament are conspiring to hand you over to the Germans, believing this will end the war for good!”

Charles instantly grasped the situation. He had anticipated this conflict before, but he hadn’t expected it to escalate so quickly.

“But...” Charles hesitated.

He recalled the sudden increase in guards at the airport. They were likely loyal to General Gillis. Under such circumstances, how could he possibly leave?

General Winter handed Charles another slip of paper, his tone unchanged: “I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you. If there are issues regarding industrial rights, we’re prepared to purchase them outright, provided you’re willing to cooperate...”

Charles quickly took the paper and unfolded it. It read:

“We’ve dealt with the guards watching the planes and woken Eric. Go to the hangar alone!”

Charles nodded. He was about to fetch his uniform from the bedside when Winter pulled him back sharply, shooting him an angry look as if to say, What are you thinking? Time is of the essence!

Reluctantly, Charles grabbed a pillow instead and hunched over as he slipped out the door.

The pillow was necessary because of his last flying experience: an open cockpit. Even in broad daylight and full uniform, the cold had been unbearable. If Charles flew back to Paris in his nightclothes, he’d probably freeze solid before landing!

As soon as Charles stepped outside, a British soldier appeared to escort him. Following closely, Charles stopped and hid behind walls when patrols passed by.

Meanwhile, Winter stayed behind in the quarters, putting on an excellent performance. “I’m sorry, but this price is unacceptable. It far exceeds our budget. I believe you should lower it by at least two points...”

When Charles finally reached the hangar, two Belgian guards had been tied up with cloth stuffed in their mouths.

Eric, sitting in the cockpit, looked utterly confused. As soon as he spotted Charles, he whispered, “Hey, kiddo, which side are we on?”

Charles climbed aboard and replied, “You don’t need to know which side we’re on. Just know that we’re heading back to Paris!”

Then he added, “You can fly us safely to Paris, right? Even at night?”

“Of course!” Eric said, before grumbling, “But they wouldn’t let me bring any liquor... so who knows!”

Charles was speechless. To Eric, liquor seemed more critical than fuel!

The plane roared to life. Two British soldiers slid the hangar doors open and saluted sharply, their bright eyes seeming to say, It’s an honor to serve you!
Nearby Belgian guards heard the engine and shouted as they rushed over, one even blowing a whistle.

But it was too late. The plane rumbled toward the runway, gathering speed, quickly leaving the pursuing guards behind.

As the plane lifted off, Charles glanced back and thought he heard Winter shouting: “These guards are traitors! They’re conspiring to hand Charles over to the Germans! They’re despicable traitors!”

The airport descended into chaos. Led by Major Fischer, airport personnel shouted angrily and charged at the guards. Gunshots rang out amidst the commotion.

Eric circled the airport once, observing the melee below. Shaking his head, he sighed, “Ugly politics, eh, kiddo?”

Then he added, “I’ll never understand it!”

“You don’t need to,” Charles said. “Just remember to sell the aircraft factory to me!”

Eric’s heart warmed. This kind little fellow—I thought he might forget about this, but he’s been thinking of it all along!

Table of content - Next Chapter >>>