Chapter 182: A Bidding War
In the end, the deal was successfully concluded. Francis, now satisfied and full of nervous excitement, left the estate.
Watching his car disappear through the gates, Armand handed a cigarette to Grevy, asking curiously, "It seems you're not particularly keen on upgrading the CA-1 tank."
"That's because it doesn't benefit us, Armand," Grevy replied, lighting the cigarette for Armand and then his own. Amid the smoke, he explained, "It's Schneider's way of keeping us under his thumb."
Armand froze, his lighter paused mid-air. "A means to control us?"
Grevy nodded, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We have no industrial base to speak of, so if we rely on Schneider now for these upgrades…"
Armand nodded slowly, realization dawning. "Then we'll always need Schneider's support—even for basic tank maintenance."
"Yes," Grevy answered, "James is a shrewd man. It seems as though he's helping us, but in reality, he's using our money to do things that only benefit him."
Still puzzled, Armand asked, "Then why did you agree to it? It doesn't seem to bring us any real advantage."
The only benefit he could think of was the continued production of the CA-1, which would bring the Right a bit of revenue. But the Right wasn't focused on profit alone.
"Schneider may have overlooked something," Grevy answered thoughtfully. "If he pours the same level of technology into the CA-1 as he has into the Saint-Chamond, perhaps with a 'Holt 120' engine, then it might become a tool we can use against him."
Armand was taken aback for a moment. Grevy's plan was simple but brilliant: while the CA-1 might seem weak now, if the rivalry between Schneider and Charles ever reached a deadlock, the CA-1 could play a pivotal role. Grevy could hand the CA-1 over to Charles, tipping the scales decisively in his favor. By then, he would hold a weapon that could balance both Schneider and Charles.
Armand found himself admiring Grevy's foresight, thinking, To plan this far ahead—this man might not be entirely sane.
What neither Armand nor Grevy could foresee, however, was that Charles might not be interested in any of this. From his perspective, both the CA-1 and Saint-Chamond were outdated technologies destined to be replaced, no matter how they were modified.
That afternoon, Charles was in the command center as usual, sorting through reports. As the fighting wore on, intelligence from the front had dwindled, replaced by reports on resource shortages—lack of equipment, lack of grenades, and so on.
The order for each division to send two officers back to Paris for training was already underway. Their arrival was scheduled for a week later, allowing the front-line units time to select candidates and dispatch them. Meanwhile, Saint-Étienne's mortar production was progressing, with testing set to begin soon.
A guard approached Charles with a message. "Major, your father asked me to let you know he hopes you'll call the factory."
As a civilian, Deyoka didn't have direct phone access to the command center, so he had to rely on relayed messages to communicate with Charles. Charles quickly phoned the factory to check on the situation.
"Eric sent a telegram. He successfully made contact with Martin Company," Deyoka reported. "The negotiations were going well at first. They agreed on 800,000 francs for all the machinery, and as for the core staff, there are only about thirty of them. Eric confirmed that most of them would accept salaries of 200 francs a month to relocate to France."
"Is there a problem?" Charles asked. So far, it sounded perfect.
"The problem is that someone else entered the bidding," Deyoka said. "They raised the offer to a million francs. Eric hasn't identified who it is yet."
Charles frowned. This was going to be tricky. A bidding war could escalate quickly, and they'd likely end up paying far more than anticipated.
Who could it be? Charles's first thought was Sopwith, the British aircraft company, which had purchased Martin historically. But it seemed far too coincidental that they'd swoop in just as Eric was negotiating.
He realized who it must be: Schneider. This was a classic move by established firms to hinder up-and-coming rivals—outbid them at every turn to limit their resources and growth.
Charles wasted no time. "Tell Eric to keep bidding. Increase by 10,000 or 20,000 francs each time until we reach around 2 million if needed."
Deyoka hesitated, possibly thinking the plan was too costly. Charles added, "Also, tell him to avoid discussing the core team or reaching out to them directly."
Deyoka seemed to understand. "Understood."
As soon as he hung up, Charles contacted Steed.
Once the call connected, Steed's excited voice filled the line, "We've produced ten sample mortars, Charles. They're even more effective than we'd hoped!"
But Charles had other priorities. "Mr. Steed, do you have personnel stationed in England?"
"Of course," Steed replied. "I sent a team there recently to negotiate on purchasing grenades from the British military."
Steed saw this as a way to expand grenade sales rapidly, especially since the British forces fighting in France would conveniently use grenades domestically.
"I need a favor, Mr. Steed," Charles said urgently. "Could you have your team pull whatever strings they need, even with the British military if possible, to quietly secure employment contracts with Martin Company's key personnel?"
Steed quickly understood. "Consider it done, Charles. They won't slip away."
After hanging up, Charles remained on edge. He realized he should have instructed Eric to leave without alerting anyone. This situation had grown needlessly complicated.
If they failed to secure Martin's staff, he wasn't sure there was an equivalent backup option. Worse, with Schneider's aggressive tactics, they might interfere with any company Charles sought to acquire, escalating every potential deal.
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