“Charming?” Schraeder glanced sharply at the aide standing by his side. “On the contrary, Werner. I think he’s a smooth-tongued, manipulating swine.” He smiled at the younger man’s shocked expression. “But what I think of Desaix personally doesn’t matter. His ideas make sense. For us, not just for the French. And that is what matters.”

He spoke with conviction. In his judgment, closer ties with France offered the best hope of creating a unified European political and military superpower — a superpower with German industrial might as its driving engine. Earlier attempts to unite the continent had foundered in a sea of conflicting national economic policies, currencies, and cultures. And, in retrospect, the whole idea of trying to create a closer-knit union under such circumstances had been ludicrous — doomed from the very beginning.

The Chancellor snorted. Germany and France, powerhouses in their own right, should never have been expected to bend to whims of smaller, poorer countries. It was unnatural. No, he thought, the weak must follow the lead set by the strong. That was the only rational way to organize the continent. For all his faults, Nicolas Desaix shared the same vision.

Torn by feuding ethnic groups and rival trading blocs, Europe needed order, stability, and discipline to take its rightful place in the world. And only France and Germany could provide the strong leadership Europe needed.

Naturally Schraeder would have preferred that Germany alone occupy center stage in a united Europe. He was not a fool, though. The world’s memories of German militarism and the Third Reich were still too painful for that. Even the comparatively hesitant diplomatic and financial moves his country had made to regain its old influence in Central and Eastern Europe were viewed with strong suspicion. Working hand in glove with France, even letting Paris appear to take the lead, would help hold those suspicions in check.

Heinz Schraeder nodded to himself. Since the end of World War II, a series of leaders from both nations had toiled fairly successfully to cool the long-standing antagonisms between their two countries. High-level contacts, joint military exercises, and continual affirmations of new friendship had all been employed by French presidents and German chancellors to accustom their peoples to working together. Now he and Desaix would reap the rewards of their hard labor.

NOVEMBER 27 — ”EUROCURRENCY ON THE MOVE,”

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

Financial and foreign policy experts were stunned by the announcement yesterday of French and German plans for rapid movement toward a single currency. Although details are still being worked out by central bank representatives from the two nations, French Foreign Minister Nicolas Desaix and German Chancellor Heinz Schraeder promised that the new franc-mark, or FM, would be in active circulation “by early next year.” The two men also hailed the accord as a crucial step toward a long-overdue European monetary union. Their optimism seemed justified by reports that officials in Belgium, Austria, Hungary, Croatia, Slovenia, and other Balkan states are all interested in the new currency.

Earlier efforts to develop a common continental monetary system collapsed when the old European Community splintered over trade tariffs and subsidies.…

DECEMBER 1 — ”SCREAMING EAGLES TO STONEHENGE,”

INTERNATIONAL DEFENSE REVIEW

Highly placed Pentagon sources have confirmed that elements of the 101st Airborne Division will participate in next year’s British Army summer maneuvers on the Salisbury Plain. Reportedly the rapid deployment exercise, code-named Operation Atlantic Surge, will involve two of the division’s three airmobile infantry brigades and a substantial portion of its attack helicopter, troop transport, and artillery assets. With more than thirty thousand U.S. Army and Air Force personnel taking part in the June exercise, Atlantic Surge will represent the largest American military effort in recent years.

Congressional critics of the Defense Department are already decrying what one calls “a titanic waste of time and money.…”

DECEMBER 11 — PALAIS ROYAL, PARIS

Nicolas Desaix listened to his special ambassador’s report without interrupting. Only the tight, angry frown on his face revealed his growing agitation. Professional diplomats never seemed able to say anything plainly — especially when they knew their news wasn’t welcome.

He waited impatiently for the man to run out of steam.

“To summarize, sir, the Polish government has expressed an interest in further talks, although it is disinclined at this time to proceed with formal negotiations on the subject. Apparently Warsaw believes that internal political considerations must temporarily take precedence over other, broader concerns.”

“They’ve turned us down.”

The ambassador shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Admitting failure was not often a good career move in the foreign service. He forced an optimistic tone. “Not in so many words, Minister. And complicated matters of this kind often require prolonged consideration. I’m sure that further discussions will produce…” His voice trailed away under his superior’s icy glare.

“Cut the crap, Bourcet. I know hot air when I hear it. Poland has rejected our offer out of hand.” Desaix’s fingers drummed on his desk as he waited for a reply. “Well? Am I right?”

The other man nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Minister.”

“Very well. You may go. But I’ll expect your written report on my desk by tomorrow morning. Make sure that it is complete and clear. I don’t have any more time to waste on fluff and nonsense.” Desaix turned his attention to the documents piled high in front of him, ignoring the special ambassador’s abrupt, red-faced departure.

He made a mental note to have the man assigned to the next undesirable diplomatic posting that opened up. Somewhere as far from France as possible.

Desaix didn’t mind the ambassador’s failure in Poland so much. After all, he’d more than half expected it. The Poles were too stiff-necked and too stupid to join the Franco-German monetary union voluntarily. What irked him most was Bourcet’s pointless attempt to disguise the truth by spouting a lot of meaningless gibberish.

He could forgive a man who failed. He would not forgive a man who mistook him for a fool.

Nicolas Desaix dismissed the matter from his mind in favor of a more immediate and important concern. Specifically the mulish resistance to the new European order he was trying to create.

In the weeks since France and Germany reached agreement on a common currency, his emissaries had fanned out across the continent. Nations with economies in hock to either Paris or Berlin were reminded of that sad fact and urged to join the new monetary union. So far, all were bowing to the inevitable. Other countries, those aligned with the “free trade” bloc, had proved far less cooperative. One by one, they’d rejected the chance to change sides in the world’s ongoing trade war.

Every refusal angered Desaix, but he found the Polish, Czech, and Slovak stance especially infuriating. Their stubborn adherence to national sovereignty and open markets encouraged agitators in other Eastern European countries who opposed closer ties with France. With American backing, they were becoming a rallying point for the anti-French sentiment slowly spreading through the region. And that made them dangerous.

No one knew better than he how fragile the coalition he envisioned would be — at least during the first few months of its existence. The slightest setback or unexpected check might shatter it, leaving France even more isolated in a sea of hostile neighbors. It would take time to weld a confederation of unpopular, unelected governments into a strong, united whole. Polish, Czech, and Slovak intransigence threatened to rob him of that time.

Desaix’s frown deepened. He could not allow that to happen. If political leaders in the three countries would not join a new European alliance voluntarily, they would have to be coerced. They’d either fold under pressure or find themselves abandoned by their own people.

His sour expression disappeared, replaced by a narrow, unpleasant smile. The ignorant Poles and their southernmost neighbors might feel themselves secure behind their thin screen of American and British military aid. But he knew differently.

He picked up a secure phone. “Put me through to the Russian Embassy. I want to speak with the ambassador

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