LOAD..AIM... SHOOOOT!!!

The barracks were full with movement as orders were shouted across the base.

Boots stomped against the dirt, metal clanked as weapons were adjusted.

Moreau had just stepped out of his room, still buttoning his uniform jacket when he spotted

Renaud leaning against a wooden post, arms crossed, watching the commotion.

Moreau frowned. "Renaud. What the fuck is going on?"

Renaud exhaled sharply through his nose, pushing off the post. "General's ordered a public execution. The traitors. All of them."

Moreau stopped in his tracks, eyes widening.

"All of them? Publicly?"

Renaud nodded. "Thirty minutes. Right in the central courtyard."

Moreau rubbed his temple, his mind spinning.

He knew the political climate in Paris.

This would not sit well with the Ministry of War, nor with the bureaucrats who wanted to sweep all of this filth under the rug.

And yet…

He couldn't help but admire the old general for it.