Next day Moreau stood on the balcony, his coat thrown over his shoulders, as he sipped his black coffee.
Laval stepped out behind him, buttoning his cuffs. "Message from Paris. Beauchamp wants you back. The defense committee has moved up its hearings they're pushing for a new focus on doctrine and structure. They want you there."
Moreau turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Urgent?"
"Yes, it seems so," Laval said. "There's a lot of pressure. They want your insight on the budget discussions."
Moreau set his cup down. "I'll pack, then. The calm never lasts long."
"You've got a knack for reading politics. Beauchamp trusts your instinct more than the rest of the officers. He wants you in the room."
Moreau glanced out at the distant horizon. "I'll be ready in an hour."
Laval took a sip of his coffee. "By the way, the work you did here it's made a difference. Things in Rome went better than expected."
"It's not done yet," Moreau said, his gaze fixed. "But we've planted the seed."
