My own war game

Chapter 447: Britain and France
Paris France.

Benjamin drove his Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III to his commercial building, which had been rebuilt into a 16-story building and became a local landmark.

The car stopped, and the nearly fifty-year-old French playboy straightened his custom-made suit, smoothed his hair in front of the rearview mirror, and took out a handkerchief to wipe the flying goddess logo on the front of the car.

A custom-made coat worth more than $2 and a luxury car with a hand-crafted aluminum body, the overwhelming wealth is overwhelming.

"Mr. President, thank you for your hard work." The young secretary in a professional suit trotted over and whispered in the French playboy's ear, "Mr. Minister of Finance has been waiting for you for a long time."

"Oh, then I'm still on a business trip." Benjamin casually planned to return to the car.

"But, but, the Minister has been here since this morning..." The newly hired secretary was unsure of what to do when her boss ignored such a high-ranking figure.

"Baby, can you answer me a question?" Benjamin turned around and gently took the other's hand.

"Yes, yes, please." The female secretary said hesitantly.

“Who is paying you three times the market value?” Benjamin asked, squeezing the other person’s fair little hand.

"It's you, sir." The secretary replied blushing.

"So do you understand what I mean? Remember, even if Charles de Gaulle comes, you have to listen to me first."

"Okay, okay. I'll go over and talk to you."

"No need! I'll come by myself, President Benjamin." A deep and powerful voice sounded behind him, and a tall figure walked over surrounded by the crowd.

The last man of Lancy, France, a hero of World War II, the hope of the people, the democratically elected president - Charles de Gaulle.

Benjamin immediately put on a formal smile, trotted over, covered the other person with both hands, and shook him vigorously.

"Sir, I'm so sorry that I couldn't go out to greet you. It's an honor for all our employees to have you here. Please follow me. I will lead you to visit the headquarters building. Everyone wants to see you..."

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Benjamin." De Gaulle pressed his hands down and did not follow the other party's rhythm. "I am willing to meet with the employees here, but before that, can you talk to me about the recent soaring prices in Paris?"

"Mr. President, I'm just an ordinary businessman. It's really not my turn to answer this question." Benjamin looked innocent.

"Mr. Benjamin, I believe that the time of both parties is valuable, and I hope to be frank with you." De Gaulle maintained his composure well.

"Several chain trading warehouses near Paris that mainly supply daily necessities to citizens have recently closed down at the same time. And the boss of the affiliated companies of these warehouses has the same name as you. This can't be a coincidence, right?"

"Oh, yes, I remember now. I remember now. I did run a little warehousing business. Recently, I am doing an inventory due to some business problems. I didn't expect to cause trouble to the citizens. I will let them open for business immediately." Benjamin agreed calmly, seemingly not embarrassed at all by the lie he had just told.

"Very good, then the purpose of my coming here has been achieved. Can we chat for a few minutes?"

"It's my pleasure, Mr. President."

The followers dispersed, and within a few hundred meters, there were only two men.

"How is Christine?" The French President's tone was as if he was talking about an old friend.

"Thanks to you, she is still so beautiful that people dare not look at her directly." Benjamin also changed his frivolous look and answered formally.

"Tell her that France will not be the first to take action, but will only protect its own rights and interests within a limited scope," de Gaulle whispered.

"Mr. President..." Benjamin didn't understand the other party's attitude for a moment. "What can I do? I have to consider the people's livelihood and the people's food problem, right? Americans will understand..." When he said this, the 70-year-old president actually blinked like a young man.

When everyone left, Benjamin took out the handkerchief from his pocket and found that it was soaked.
-
At the same time, London.

The sound of fire trucks continued to ring, and the thick smoke coming out of Windsor Castle had just been suppressed.

Reporters outside stood on tiptoe to look inside the gate. Dozens of extended microphones were about to poke the press officer's nose.

"Thank you for your concern. There is no problem with Her Majesty the Queen's safety. The fire only burned a temporary reception room. The life of the royal family will not be affected in any way." The press officer shouted to the people around him at the top of his voice.

"Sir, there have been eight major fires in London recently and now the royal buildings are threatened. Is it true that we are under a terrorist threat as rumored?" This man was obviously looking for trouble.

"Nonsense! There is no such thing!"

"We want to see His Majesty! The people have the right to know!" These are the words of some reporters who wanted to dig deeper into the inside story.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty is still calming down the frightened staff and will be able to meet you later."

The chaotic noise outside did not reach Windsor Castle. Queen Elizabeth, dressed in casual clothes, was sitting in a chair on the lawn of the flower gallery, enjoying her afternoon tea.

High-quality black tea paired with Indian spices gives the entire teacup a special aroma.

The queen raised her cup, and a tall reflection appeared in the light red tea.

Philip Mountbatten, the Queen's nominal husband.

The two of them eventually got married, but their relationship on a daily basis seemed to be no better than that of ordinary friends.

"Elizabeth, I just checked and there are no security loopholes. The fire should be just an accident." Philip leaned over and said softly.

"Thank you for your hard work. Please come and have a cup of tea." The Queen's voice was ethereal and elegant, but the deliberate honorifics made the relationship between the two people seem more divided.

"No, I have to go in person to discuss the Prime Minister's security inquiries." Philip suppressed his inner disappointment and slowly stood up.

"Thank you for your hard work. I will also call the Prime Minister later." Eliza's words still revealed alienation.

The Duke of Edinburgh turned to leave, then stopped and took a deep breath. "Libet"

"Hmm?" The queen raised her head in surprise. Ever since she was rejected in the bedroom, the other party rarely called her by such an intimate nickname.

"Well, I mean... when you go to refuel your white plane, you should ask a servant to go. It's not safe to go there by yourself."

"Yes, thank you for your concern. I will pay attention to it." The queen nodded slightly, with no change on her face.

The Duke left, his back looking somewhat lonely.

The queen left her seat and walked slowly back to her room. After closing the door, she knocked under the cabinet with her beautiful shoes. An empty oil barrel was kicked in by her in an unladylike manner.

Picking up the phone on the desk, the Queen spoke in standard aristocratic accent, "Mr. Prime Minister, I want to know about the recent situation and the government's attitude. Well, yes, thank you, I am not injured, I am fine."

No one would know that the expression on the queen's face at this moment actually contained a bit of the cunning and playfulness that is unique to a young girl after playing a prank.

(End of this chapter)