Chapter 219: A Justified Protest
Tonight, all the people of Paris felt the intense tremors. They all saw the dazzling light coming from the direction of the 20th arrondissement. Amidst the panic, they found a sliver of security in the sound of sirens, as the relevant departments dispatched police and emergency services with maximum speed.
This was the heart of France, after all. Any disturbance here was a matter of life and death.
Not to mention that the area where the explosion occurred was the headquarters of France's top secret agency, the source of all intelligence.
Upon receiving the alert, the local departments reported it up the chain of command, layer by layer, until it reached the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister then personally called the President, claiming they had suffered an extremely severe intrusion incident.
On the phone, the Prime Minister explained in detail that the General Directorate for External Security (DGSE) had not been conducting any work related to explosives recently. Furthermore, the internal facilities of the DGSE had undergone rigorous maintenance and protection, ruling out sudden accidental explosions. Therefore, tonight's massive explosion must be the work of agents from another country!
After his initial fury, the President finally suppressed his emotions. On the surface, he trusted the Prime Minister's explanation and gently advised him not to be overly grief-stricken, urging him to do everything possible to salvage the situation, prevent secondary explosions, and mitigate any subsequent radiation contamination from explosives.
But inwardly, he scoffed. He didn't believe this explanation for a second. He believed absolutely that too many officials along the line, prioritizing "progress" (and their own pockets), had been passing the buck upwards and skimming funds. This led to a severe lack of funding, expired machinery, and aging wiring, resulting in tonight's tragedy.
Hanging up the phone, he hurled it across the room, smashing an expensive oil painting by a famous artist hanging on the wall.
"A bunch of parasites! That's the DGSE! They even dare to embezzle those funds!"
His rage was immense. He made up his mind: when public anger rose, he would respond to the people's call and purge these parasites.
France's political environment was a dual executive system. The President, responsible for major state and military affairs, was elected by the people. The Prime Minister, responsible for government administration, was appointed by the President. despite this, without a legitimate reason, he couldn't arbitrarily dismiss a Prime Minister, or even any minister.
"Damn it! I have to go see the scene." He changed out of his pajamas into a suit and leather shoes, hastily arranged his security detail, and ignored everyone's advice to personally visit the scene of the incident.
Perhaps due to the severe nature of the incident, departments that usually dragged their feet were cooperating fully. By the time he arrived, the site was surrounded three layers deep by personnel from various departments.
To his surprise, in a medical vehicle, he saw the high-ranking officials of the DGSE and their Director, whom he had assumed were already dead in the line of duty!
"What exactly happened?" he asked the person beside him.
The person he asked had been there for a long time and knew the situation well, which only made them more confused. Hearing the President's question, they immediately replied, "Although the scene is terrifying, not a single person died. No one remembers what happened; they only know they woke up to see medical personnel."
Two key points in one sentence: first, no one remembers; second, the scene is terrifying.
The President frowned. "What do the doctors say?"
"Everyone was outside the safe distance of the blast radius. The doctors judge it might be memory loss due to extreme shock, or perhaps... drug-induced hallucinations." The person reporting looked up cautiously, hoping not to see thunder on the President's face. After all, the entire intelligence agency of a nation getting high on drugs... if this got out, everyone might as well resign and apologize sooner rather than later.
Unfortunately, among all possibilities, the latter was the most likely. "Extreme shock" couldn't explain why everyone was outside the safety radius.
Only the drug scenario could explain why the scene was like this: the higher-ups set fire to their own house, left, evacuated to a safe zone, and then—perhaps on someone's suggestion, or perhaps due to a brain spasm—detonated some explosives, causing this disaster.
"After the on-site investigation, is this conclusion reliable?" No emotion could be seen on the President's face, but his hands were clenched tight, knuckles white, veins bulging on his wrists.
"..." The reporter's lips moved a few times, but they said nothing, simply lowering their head.
This reaction was more affirmative than any words. The fire of rage burned in the President's heart. He really wanted to make a scene, but there were too many people around.
Throwing his weight around, cursing subordinates, and assigning blame in such a setting might feel good, but it would greatly lower others' estimation of him as a top-tier politician.
The immediate priority was to extinguish the fire, save people, and ensure safety. Everything else could wait.
He constantly admonished himself internally, but anger was anger. He felt that if this continued, sooner or later he would explode from rage at these pig-headed teammates. "How is the rescue going?"
"The fire is under control."
In reality, when they arrived, there were only scorched traces of a massive fire, but not a single spark remained.
"All the injured are being treated; there is no life-threatening danger. This incident will not result in any casualties."
In reality, when they arrived, they found no injured people at all. Everyone was unconscious on the ground, but aside from memory loss, they were exactly the same as normal people.
"The only concern is the impact on public opinion. When our departments arrived, we could see residents watching from their windows. I personally believe the entire city of Paris might have felt the massive explosion tonight."
There was no way to claim credit or deliver good news on this point; he could only state the facts.
"Public opinion... I understand. You go do your work." The President let out a long breath. He knew he couldn't rush this. No matter how much he wanted to kick those parasites out, no matter how much he wanted to fire a few ministers who disagreed with his policies, maintaining stability and government credibility came first. Settling scores could wait until later, or be done with the help of public opinion.
He calculated in his mind while venturing deeper into the accident site. What met his eyes was a stretch of scorched black earth spanning one or two kilometers, and a bottomless pit in its depths.
Only the wind was hot, bringing an annoying heat that seemed the only sign of life; the rest was deathly silence.
"What did they set off? A tactical nuke? Was the DGSE equipped with that?"
Seeing this scene, all thoughts of political winds and social sentiment paused. All that remained was curiosity about these subordinates who appeared to be intelligence agents on the surface but were actually explosives experts.
Day 2.
The people of the old districts spontaneously spread their versions of the story, one person telling ten, ten telling a hundred.
Day 3.
Some people began giving speeches on the streets, declaring that their safety needed guarantees, claiming the current government was incompetent and unable to protect the people.
Relevant departments politely persuaded these speakers to leave while reporting the situation up the chain, awaiting instructions.
Day 5.
As the saying goes, stopping the mouths of the people is harder than stopping a river. Continually blocking them meant a massive protest was inevitable.
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