Deyoka had no idea where Charles had obtained his information. All he knew was that after sending the telegram to Joseph, a response soon came back:
"The other party has agreed to sell for 250,000 francs. Should we proceed with the purchase?"
Deyoka immediately replied with a firm "Yes," then hopped into his car and sped off to Paris to arrange the cross-border payment at the bank.
(Note: Cross-border payments within Europe began developing in the mid-19th century, using the correspondent banking model, which continues to this day.)
As Deyoka signed the documents at the bank, he hesitated slightly, unsure why Charles was willing to spend such a significant sum—250,000 francs—on a technology and product that was soon to be outdated.
But since Charles was well-informed and insistent on the purchase, Deyoka ultimately signed off and authorized the payment.
Charles, of course, had his reasons. His interest in the "Holt 75" wasn't to produce tractors but to use it for tank and armored vehicle production. What he truly needed was the engine technology, and in that area, the "Holt 120" offered little advantage over the "Holt 75." The 120 primarily achieved its higher output through larger, stacked components for added power—more of a brute-force approach than a technological improvement. That's why the "Holt 75" wasn't phased out for another decade.
After a full day of racing back and forth between Davatz and Paris, Deyoka didn't return home until nightfall.
Charles had spent the entire day indoors, with no chance of accompanying Deyoka to Paris. Camille had been firm in her refusal, saying, "These matters don't require you, Charles! Your father can handle them on his own."
She even teased, "Don't worry, Charles! Deyoka needs to grow as well—it's time for him to take on some responsibilities."
Deyoka had scoffed at this, but he couldn't deny a small pang. Camille was partially correct; he did rely on Charles's judgment quite a bit. But Charles was, after all, his own son, raised with his guidance—seeing him surpass his expectations was also a source of pride. Follow current novᴇls on ɴovᴇl(ꜰ)ir(e).nᴇt
The next morning, Charles was finally permitted to accompany Deyoka to the factory. After a quick breakfast and a wave goodbye to Camille, they got into the Ford and headed off.
As they drove through the streets, neighbors waved and greeted them. Eliza, the croissant vendor, waved enthusiastically, "Master Charles, would you like a croissant? It's on the house!"
"I just had breakfast, but thank you, Madame Eliza!" Charles called back.
"She's following through on her promise," Deyoka said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
"What do you mean?" Charles asked, puzzled.
Deyoka explained, "Her son was injured in the war. He lost part of his hand to shrapnel and can't continue serving. She asked if we could find him a job at the motorcycle factory, and I agreed."
"She said we could have her croissants for free anytime we want!"
Charles nodded, recalling his promise to help provide work for injured veterans. Deyoka, curious, asked, "How do you plan to handle these injured soldiers? Many of them may struggle to adapt to factory work, and some may even need constant care."
Charles didn't hesitate. "We could establish a veterans' home and bring them together for managed care. We'll give them simpler parts to assemble, and they can be paid per piece."
Deyoka paused, then nodded approvingly. "A good solution—let them earn a living for themselves."
"Exactly," Charles replied. "It's sustainable and doesn't drain our resources. We couldn't possibly afford to support so many veterans otherwise, especially since there will be many more needing our help in the future."
Deyoka agreed, "They'll be grateful to you, Charles, for giving them a chance to support themselves."
Charles couldn't help but think of Matthew. Would he accept a life of "earning his keep"? For Matthew, that might feel like a prolonged sentence.
At that moment, the car slowed down. Deyoka looked out the window, concerned. "What's going on?"
Charles followed his gaze. In front of the factory, a group of French soldiers in red pants and caps had set up a checkpoint, armed and inspecting every vehicle and worker entering the premises.
"What are they looking for?" Deyoka muttered, scanning the area. "German spies?"
Charles wasn't sure at first, either—until he spotted a familiar face with a bruised nose and eye.
"That's Laurent, Father," Charles said. "Gallieni sent them."
Gallieni had introduced them to Laurent that night, explaining that he was a trusted aide.
Deyoka nodded, then looked around worriedly. "Wasn't he supposed to keep his distance from us? Why would Gallieni send him here?"
Charles raised his eyebrows. "That's exactly the point, Father. This factory produces tanks and sidecars; the military should be concerned about protecting our technology from German espionage."
Deyoka thought about it, then agreed with Charles's reasoning.
At that moment, Laurent noticed Deyoka and walked over to the car, stone-faced. "Identification, sir," he demanded.
Deyoka reached into his pocket and handed over his papers.
(Note: France was one of the earliest countries to use identification cards, which originated during the French Revolution to verify citizenship and prevent tax evasion. The documents were paper-based and could easily be forged.)
Laurent took the papers, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot, then leaned in close. "Don't worry, sir. We're here to protect you. But, well…our attitude may be a bit rough."
Straightening up, Laurent suddenly bellowed in a loud, authoritative voice, "So you're Deyoka? The one who sold us those sidecars for 550 francs?"
"You capitalists never consider the people's hardships—all you think about is making money!" With a dramatic flourish, Laurent threw the papers back in Deyoka's face. "You're all bloodsuckers! I'm warning you: no funny business!"
To top it off, he spat on the ground, and the soldiers nearby joined in with jeers and mocking laughter.
What Laurent failed to notice was the hostile expressions of the nearby factory workers. Just as he was preparing to continue his "act," one worker shouted, "Hey, watch your mouth, you jerk!"
"They're heroes for saving France—show some respect!"
"Enough with your arrogance, you ignorant fools!"
The workers' anger only intensified. They surged forward, pushing and shoving the soldiers. A large man even tackled Laurent, sending him sprawling to the ground, his hat flying off.
The soldiers, unwilling to raise their guns against the unarmed workers, quickly hauled Laurent to his feet and beat a hasty retreat amidst the workers' taunts. The workers celebrated their "victory" with triumphant cheers.
Deyoka and Charles stared at each other in disbelief.
Laurent had called that a "minor issue"?
Or had he not anticipated that things would escalate this way?
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