"What in the actual fuck is going on?"

The patrol walked through the damp underbrush.

The mood among the men was subdued, not just from exhaustion but from the knowledge that they have betrayed the trust of those soilder who might have been captured by Germans for defending their own land.

Moreau led them with a steady pace, his boots sinking slightly into the damp soil.

Renaud strode beside him, arms crossed over his rifle strap, his expression tight with barely restrained frustration.

Then came the voice.

"Capitaine! A message is coming in!"

The sudden voice made them both turn sharply.

The radio operator had stopped a few paces behind them, crouched over his equipment.

His headset was pressed tight against his ear, and his fingers were already moving, rapidly scribbling onto a notepad.

The crackling of transmission static filled the air around him.

Moreau and Renaud exchanged a glance before moving back toward him.

The rest of the men instinctively halted, murmurs of curiosity rippling through the patrol.

Moreau crouched beside the radio operator, watching as he continued transcribing. "What is it?"

The operator's eyes flicked up, his face tense. "Sir… it's not from Verdun Command."

Moreau's stomach tightened.

That was unusual.

Very unusual.

He watched as the operator's pencil moved in short, precise strokes, his hands steady despite the tension in his face.

It was a telegraph coded, encrypted, something not meant to go through standard radio channels.

"Who's it from?" Renaud asked, his brows furrowing.

The operator's hand hesitated for a split second before he swallowed and looked up. "Colonel Pierre Perrin, sir."

Moreau felt his breath still in his chest for just a moment.

Renaud let out a sharp exhale, his fingers tightening over the strap of his rifle.

"You're joking," Renaud muttered, shaking his head.

"No joke, sir," the operator said. "It's coming through now."

His voice dropped slightly, the pressure he was receiving doubled in an instant.

"And sir… it's direct. A secured channel."

Moreau's eyes narrowed.

That was not normal.

High-ranking officers didn't just bypass standard procedure unless the situation demanded absolute discretion.

The transmission continued, the radio clicking in sharp bursts.

The operator's pencil scratched against the notepad, breaking the silence between them.

Finally, after a long pause, he straightened, exhaling. "Sir… message is complete. I'll read it now."

Moreau nodded, and the patrol gathered slightly closer, tension rising with every second.

The operator cleared his throat and began reading.

URGENT – TO CAPITAINE ÉTIENNE MOREAU – 3RD ARMORED DETACHMENT

DISREGARD ORDER FROM VERDUN HIGH COMMAND. DIRECTIVE ALTERED THROUGH UNAUTHORIZED CHANNELS.

ORDER FROM COMMAND COMPROMISED. PROCEED WITH INVESTIGATION. CONFIRM FOREIGN MILITARY PRESENCE. RECOVER ALL EVIDENCE OF FRENCH ASSET LOSSES. PRIORITY: INTELLIGENCE RETRIEVAL.

FULL REPORT TO BE TRANSMITTED THROUGH ENCRYPTED FREQUENCY 8. DO NOT USE STANDARD MILITARY COMMUNICATIONS.

AUTHORIZATION CODE: 13-PIERRE-22-VERDUN.

ENSURE OPERATION REMAINS CONFIDENTIAL. TRUST NO UNVERIFIED CHANNELS.

PERRIN.

Silence.

Moreau's fingers tightened into a fist.

That authorization code.

It wasn't just an ordinary signal.

It was Perrin's personal encryption key a code that was only used for directives that bypassed standard hierarchy, ones that came directly from Perrin himself without oversight.

Moreau had only seen it once before, back when Perrin had been handling classified intelligence from Paris.

And now he was sending it directly to Moreau, bypassing the entire chain of command.

Renaud let out a short, humorless laugh. "Merde."

The patrol remained deathly still, waiting for their officers to react, waiting for some kind of explanation for the madness that had just unfolded.

Moreau took a slow breath, his jaw tightening.

The entire situation had just changed.

Thirty minutes ago, High Command had ordered them to turn back.

Now, Perrin was telling them that order was compromised.

Someone in High Command had interfered with their mission.

Someone in their own ranks wanted this buried.

Renaud rubbed his face with both hands before exhaling sharply. "Alright. Let's just lay this out. High Command tells us to turn back. We all think that's suspicious. And now Perrin tells us to ignore it and keep going because someone in Command is covering something up?" He threw up his hands.

"What in the actual fuck is going on?"

Moreau was silent for a long moment before he turned back to the operator. "Nothing else? That was all?"

The operator nodded. "Yes, sir. Message was cut after transmission. No follow-up, no secondary instructions."

Moreau turned away, rubbing his fingers against his temple.

He could feel the pressure of making the decision pressing down on him, the risk of what this meant.

They had two options.

One which is follow High Command's orders. Return to Bouzonville. Act as though nothing had happened.

That would keep them safe, but it would mean turning a blind eye to clear evidence of German activity and missing French soldiers.

It would also mean someone in their own hierarchy had just successfully buried the truth.

Two which is follow Perrin's orders. Investigate further. Which meant disobeying High Command and knowingly stepping into dangerous territory.

If they were wrong, if this backfired, Moreau and his men would take the fall.

Renaud turned toward him, his voice lower now. "You trust Perrin?"

Moreau didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Renaud let out a slow exhale, his fingers tapping idly against the stock of his rifle. "Then I guess we already know what we're doing."

Moreau took a deep breath before turning back toward the patrol.

The men were watching, waiting for his decision.

He let his gaze sweep over them they were already questioning their orders, already suspicious.

If he told them to turn back, they wouldn't fight it, but they'd know something was wrong.

He straightened his shoulders, his voice steady. "You all heard the message. Colonel Perrin has given us direct orders to continue our investigation. That means this isn't just some missing patrol we are being deliberately misled. We keep discipline. We move with caution. We follow the evidence. If anyone has doubts, say it now."

No one spoke.

The message had said it all.

Moreau turned back to Renaud.

"Let's move."

The patrol turned again.