The Prussia of The South - A Portuguese TL

[Karolus Rex]

Credit for Unknown for serving as beta and editor of this update.

*****

Traitors and Spies​

As the General moved with such an ease and calm, John could but not help but think that the man was a clear idiot.

He obviously thought himself above suspicion and never thought that the President had an agenda of his own.

And things would stay like that until the moment came to put a rope around his neck.

If Wilkinson kept on doing things as he did now, that moment wouldn't be far way.

From the moment the General had come back to New Orleans, John had found enough evidence to send him to jail for life. Bribery could probably get him thrown in jail, but that wasn't what the President wanted to get him for.

And, now, almost two weeks after being in Louisiana, the General was about to meet the Spanish spy or, at least, John hopped he would.

He had been following him for a good hour now and the man showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

As he was about to give up, Wilkinson took a right turn and entered a house through the back door.

John had seen him there before and he had found out that it was where he kept his mistress.

Damn the man, he thought, Of all the times to visit the mistress, why now?

As he finished the question, the answer struck him.

What if the woman was both his mistress and his contact? That would be the perfect cover; as far as anyone knew, Wilkinson was just visiting his lover, like many men of position did but, away from the eyes of the world, he would be plotting against the United States.

He cursed himself for not having seen it earlier, but at least he knew or, at least, thought he knew.

I got you now, you son of a bitch.

*****​

Miguel hated paperwork.

I didn't join the army to fight paper, he thought bitterly.

But he was good at his job or, at least, his superiors he thought he was.

Unfortunately, it was a horrible job. One that had him working with the worst kind of rascals, thieves and traitors.

But that was the way it was on the Serviços de Informação do Exército, or the Army Information Services, as it was known. Most men called it the Department.

His post was new and revolutionary, but it made sense. The idea of this department had come from General Castro. It made no sense, he said, to depend on independent exploring officers to gather intel on the enemy; it was better to have someone to coordinate it, to give the generals the best information possible.

He and a couple of others had been chosen directly upon leaving the Academy and had formed the original core of the Department.

They had been just five men at the beginning, and no agents or connections.

That had been five years ago.

Now, they had a network all over Spain and southern France and, if it wasn't for his men, the generals would be left on the dark about what information was real or not.

As he read the report in front of him, he thought of how a man like Castro would react to it.

The informant said that the French had brought two hundred thousand men to the peninsula! This was ridiculous notion and one that had just made the man useless to the Department.

As he took up a cigar, he turned his gaze to the newest report sent by his agents in Barcelona. As he read it, he couldn't believe the information in it.

If this is true this will be a game changer, he thought.

Determined, he left his office and went to see Major Carlos.

"Do you know what is in this report?" he said, waving the report.

The other, always the mocker, told him that, if he didn't give him the report, he would never know.

"Is this true?" he asked after reading.

"I don't know." Miguel admitted. "And I won't go to the Marshal with fake intel. Send word to any man you think that can confirm this; the funds will not be a problem. Just confirm if what's in here is true or not?"

Carlos nodded, ensuring he would do so.

He also knew the value of that information and, if it was proven true, it would change everything on the peninsula.

 

[jczak97]

You're killing me with these cliff hangers man lol. Great update and keep up the good work

 

[miguelrj]

You're killing me with these cliff hangers man lol. Great update and keep up the good work

I undersign these two sentences. ^

 

[Draeger]

I undersign these two sentences. ^

I as well. Great work, great writing.

 

[Karolus Rex]

You're killing me with these cliff hangers man lol. Great update and keep up the good work

I undersign these two sentences. ^

I as well. Great work, great writing.

Thank you guys for your comments and kind words .

 

[Karolus Rex]

Credit to Unknown for serving as Beta and Editor of this update.

*****

The Enemy of my Enemy, ain't my Friend​

William Cavendish-Bentinck, the 3rd Duke of Portland and the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, sat in his office, wondering if there had been a worse start for any Cabinet.

He had just been invited by the King to form a government a week ago and things couldn’t had gone any worse.

Russia was beginning to waver on their war enthusiasm and, without them, any hope of a Prussian resurgence was shattered. With the war in Germany lost, is it any wonder that Great Britain wanted to ensure that their remaining allies wouldn’t waste their resources, and British money, on another failed campaign?

For Cavendish, such questions were justified and, therefore, the only way to ensure that there wouldn’t be another Austerlitz or Jena was to put their allies armies under the command of good and steady British officers.

It was only logical.

But their Iberian allies didn’t think so.

The Spanish juntas had been adamant in their refusal so long as Gibraltar stayed under British control and the Portuguese government didn’t even bother to give them a formal answer, instead sending a single note to the British embassy, asking if the ambassador was drunk when he made such a request.

As if the situation with the arrogant Iberians wasn’t bad enough, the British foreign services had just found out that Napoleon was thinking about bullying Denmark into putting their fleet under French control.

Allowing the French to have control of one of the two fleets, which had enough power to fight and, possibly, defeat the Channel Fleet, was something that Cavendish wouldn’t allow.

He had already ordered the Admiralty to prepare enough ships and marines to capture the Danish fleet if they refused to put their fleet under British protection. Some might see such an act as a clear violation of Danish neutrality, which it was, but England couldn’t afford risking a French invasion.

This last thought made him think. If he could force the Danes to give them their fleet, then he could force the Spanish and Portuguese to put their armies and navies under the control of British officers.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.

The Portuguese could be forced by threatening their commerce and the newest Slave Trade Act would aid in that. If necessary, he could order the Royal Navy to apprehend the Portuguese trading vessels under the claim that they were slavers.

And the Spanish could become more reasonable if he threatened to give full support to the revolutionaries on their American colonies.

It looked like a good plan to him.

*****
​

Talleyrand couldn’t help but feel pleasure at his latest work.

Ever since the Corsican upstart had forced him out of office, the foreign relations of France had been on a downward cycle.

Austria was more fearful of the growing ruthlessness of the French Emperor and was beginning to rearm itself and Spain had passed from being a loyal lapdog to becoming an enemy of France. Denmark was being bullied and, had it not been for the Swedish fear of ever-growing Russia, all the powers of Europe would be united in their hate and fear of France.

It was clear to any idiot that France couldn’t keep going on like that.

Eventually, there wouldn’t be enough men to conscript to fight the ever-growing wars. The people were beginning to get tired of war and more and more men were escaping to the woods from the conscript parties, more and more newspapers were closed by Fouché for supporting peace, and even some officers were beginning to become tired of the constant state of war that the Emperor kept France in.

France would fall. Napoleon would fall. He, Talleyrand, would not.

And he was ensuring his postwar survival.

He had found out about a certain person in southern France who was in contact with Portuguese agents in Barcelona. Thanks to this knowledge, he could aid in the downfall of the Corsican tyrant.

He had already sent them word before and now he would do again.

Some might accuse him of being a traitor, but he wasn’t. He was a survivor.

And he felt compelled to do as he did.

If Napoleon did as he wished, another war would soon follow.

Talleyrand knew that this latest news would be even be more worrisome than the last but, even so, he thought it would be better for them to know Napoleon’s plans.

And, at the end of the day, when remorse came, he knew how to shut it off.

He did what he had to do to survive and saw no shame on it.

*****
​

Eugène Rose de Beauharnais, the Viceroy of Italy and the Commander of the Army of Italy, sat on his horse as he saw his green-clothed soldiers march.

I became too accustomed to northern Italy, he thought, and, if what I heard is just half true, the men will fall over in exhaustion during the summer.

While the Spanish heat couldn’t compare to the temperatures he had seen in Egypt, the men were more accustomed to the climates of central Europe.

Why his stepfather had sent him to Spain, he had no idea.

Sending the Army of Italy was a rash decision and one that left northern Italy unprotected against Austria but, when he told his fears to his stepfather, he dismissed them, claiming that Austria would never dare attack him.

That last statement showed him how much the man he once admired had changed. He said him, and not France, confirming his fears that this wars were not against France but, rather, against Napoleon himself.

But his loyalty still spoke higher than his personal feelings and he had ordered his men to gather and began their long march towards Catalonia.

For some time, he thought that Spain would indeed welcome him and his men, like his stepfather had said. But, as they marched further inland and further away from Barcelona, the situation changed.

The men under Marshal Soult had behaved like they usually did in northern Europe, stealing what they needed to survive or, as the Marshal had called it, living off the land.

He had given orders for his men to pay for everything they took and had kept them under strict discipline but, for the common Spaniard, it didn’t matter if the man that came to his door was dressed in blue or green, or if they spoke French, Italian, or Polish; to them, they were all enemies.

Eugène had been forced to keep all his cavalry at the back in order to protect the supply train from partisans. And it only got worse by the day, as more and more of his soldiers were ambushed by angry Spaniards. While these conflicts were usually one-sided, with his Italians being better-armed and equipped, there were always casualties and they were growing by the day.

Spain was becoming hell.

He had to be careful, or it might become his grave.

*****​

No Eugène being sent to fight in Spain with the Army of Italy ain't the shocking info the Department received in the former update. That particular cliff hanger is related to the information's Talleyrand is been sending to Lisbon, that shall remain secret for a while .

 

[Karolus Rex]

Sorry about the delay on the update .

Hope this new chapter can make you forgive me for my inactivity .

Credit to Unknown for editing the original version.

*****

I Wanna be the King of Spain​

Marshal-General von der Goltz, had been embroiled by paperwork when Major Carlos, the head of the Department, storm into his office.

For an normal officer, to storm into the office of the Chief of the General-Staff of the Army, it would be the fastest way to kill ones career, but for this officer to do so, it had become an usual occurrence.

While the information the Portuguese officer brought was always needed, and sometimes even vital for the war effort, there were times when von der Goltz regretted telling him that, if the information was important enough, he could enter at any time, needing not to knock.

"Sir, it's confirmed." Said the information officer.

"Major, you must be a little more specific than that."

"Sorry sir. It's the news from France." At seeing that the Prussian still hadn't realized what he was talking about, he explained. "It's been confirmed that some politicians, generals, and even members of the Emperor's family, are conspiring to do a Coup d'état."

This important news, indeed. If the French in the Peninsula found about it, or if they were part of it, it could give him time, to bring the colonials to the continent and to end some of the defensive positions, that were currently, being built on the borders.

"Do we know the reason?" Asked the Marshal.

"Most of the people are getting tiered of wars, and some think that a more malleable Emperor is needed.

"And who are they thinking to put on the throne of France?"

"I still don't know, but I have an idea of who he might be." As the Marshal signaled him he continued. "Who ever is chosen must be a man of the Army, probably an Hero of the revolution, so that give us most of the French High Command. But he must be politically week and in alliance with the Bonaparte family for receiving some support from the Bonapartistes, so the only man that applies to this is Carolina Bonaparte's husband, Marshal Murat."

The Prussian pondered on the matter for a while before asking.

"Do you think he is aware of the plot to put him on the Throne?"

"I have no idea, Sir." He said. "But I plan to know."

The Major was about to leave, when he remembered the other matter for which he had come.

"Sir, about the Spanish matter I have news and they are not good."

Now von der Goltz was surprised. For the man that had refereed to the Battle of Jena–Auerstedt, as nothing more than a bump on the road, to say that the news weren't good, was because they were horrible.

"It appears Sir, that fighting against the French ain't enough, for the Spaniards, so, they have decided to fight among each other. Prince Ferdinand, or should I say King, as decided to ignore that he is a French captive, just like his father, and declared himself the true King of Spain. So now we have three Kings and the Cortes of Cadiz, all of them claiming sovereignty over Spain"

This were bad news. There had been rumors coming from Barcelona, for almost a month, saying that Ferdinand had declared himself King, as if there weren't enough Kings in Spain as it was, but the fact that the little prick had actually done it, put the Spanish Army on a defacto war between the Partisans of Charles and Ferdinand, that when they weren't fighting with the men loyal to Cadiz and the men under Soult and Eugène.

"What about Blake?"

"Blake is avoiding choosing sides, for now, but he as almost thirty thousand men under him. It's impossible that they will all have the same allegiance, so we might expect some breakaways from his army."

"But will he still fight with us against the French?"

"I don't know, Sir." He said unhappy. "I don't know.

*****
​

Field Marshal Lecor stood in awe as the newest commander of the British forces on the peninsula approached him.

General Sir Hew Whitefoord Dalrymple, 1st Baronet and former Acting Governor of Gibraltar, was an unimpressive man.

To say the least.

The fact that the British had taken so long to chose a new officer to command their Army on the peninsula had given the impression to the Portuguese staff that the chosen man would be a brilliant general and, instead, they had chosen Sir Hew.

To call him unimaginative was an insult to people without imagination and the fact that he had been Governor of Gibraltar had only served to insult General Blake; he still refused to speak with the British General in any language, not that it made any difference, given that the man only knew how to speak English and, to make matters worse, he had even managed to piss off General Castro.

So it now fell to him, and to the very embarrassed Wellesley, to ignore the fact that Castro and Blake tried to strangle Sir Hew.

This was a hard task, even in the best of times.

"Sirs." he greeted. "General Castro and General Blake are waiting for you on General's Castro office."

As they went to the war room, Lecor noticed that Wellesley was even more constrained than usual.

"Is something wrong, Arthur?" he asked.

"The general received news from England. I don't know what it is about, but I have a bad feeling about it."

All that Lecor could do was nod and hope that his friend's instinct was wrong.

Unfortunately, he knew that Arthur was almost never wrong.

 

[Don Quijote]

What happened to Beresford, who did a decent job IOTL? Or since Wellington is about anyway, would a joint Anglo-Portuguese command in Iberia be plausible?

 

[Karolus Rex]

What happened to Beresford, who did a decent job IOTL?

The British expedition to Buenos Aires still happened and as such Beresford is currently in jail (OTL he managed to escape after six months ITTL he is still in jail).

Or since Wellington is about anyway, would a joint Anglo-Portuguese command in Iberia be plausible?

Can't tell this for now, but there will be greater cooperation between the Anglo-Portuguese armies and not the "We Command, you obey" that marked the Peninsular War.

 

[Don Quijote]

The British expedition to Buenos Aires still happened and as such Beresford is currently in jail (OTL he managed to escape after six months ITTL he is still in jail).



Can't tell this for now, but there will be greater cooperation between the Anglo-Portuguese armies and not the "We Command, you obey" that marked the Peninsular War.

I admit I haven't followed this TL as closely as I meant to, but I've enjoyed the general theme of the story. When you say that Britain and Portugal are now equals (at least on land) does this mean the modernising of the Portuguese Army is complete and the Prussian relationship is no longer important?

 

[Karolus Rex]

I admit I haven't followed this TL as closely as I meant to, but I've enjoyed the general theme of the story. When you say that Britain and Portugal are now equals (at least on land) does this mean the modernising of the Portuguese Army is complete and the Prussian relationship is no longer important?

The modernization, or better reorganization, is over, but the Prussian relationship is still important and cared for.

The commander of the Army is a Prussian, with the Second in command being French, and the commander of the Navy, Domingos de Lima, was saved by a Prussian doctor in Konigsberg, when he suffered from Smallpox.

So with both the Command of the Army and Navy, one being Prussian the other having is life saved by a Prussian, very Pro-Prussian, the Portuguese-Prussian relations are better than they ever were and are considered very important.

 

[Vinpupx]

Uh, is the original and edited chapter supposed to be there?

 

[Count of Crisco]

Uh, is the original and edited chapter supposed to be there?

I had wondered the same thing when I first read it through .

 

[Karolus Rex]

Uh, is the original and edited chapter supposed to be there?

I had wondered the same thing when I first read it through .

Thanks for noticing my mistake, I only noticed about it now .

 

[Karolus Rex]

Credit to Unknown for editing the original version.

*****

A World on Fire

Part One​

François Joseph Lefebvre, Maréchal d'Empire, and currently in command of the forty-five thousand men besieging the Prussian city of Danzig, watched as his men finished the last of the three siege trenches that currently encircled the city.

In normal circumstances, the trenches would had never been built so fast, but the Emperor had ordered to capture Danzig as fast as possible and by any means he considered necessary, regardless of the amount of casualties.

Lefebvre understood the need for speed but he, unlike the Emperor, had risen up from the ranks and still remembered those days and, as such, the Marshal tried his best to keep his men alive and didn't liked this urgent demand of the Emperor to storm Danzing.

If he did so. the butcher's bill would be huge. as the fifteen thousand Prussians trapped inside would make his army bleed.

He sighed.

His personal feelings didn't matter, because the Emperor needed the Prussians crushed and Danzing captured or the city could and, most likely, would be used to attack the rear of the Grande Armée while the Emperor pushed eastwards against Russia.

Even so, he still had some reservations about the Emperor's plan to defeat the Russians, especially after Eylau were almost a third of the Army had ended wounded or death for nothing.

Lefebvre was getting tired.

Tired of war and tired of death.

He had been a soldier for almost thirty-five years; he had fought for the King, for the Revolution and, now, he fought for Napoleon. He had lost companions, friends and, even, his own offspring in the wars of France and that had taken his toll on him.

"A Marshal of the Empire shouldn't have this kind of thoughts." he muttered, while shaking his head.

He waited a little longer to clear his head and, then, turned his horse to go back to his headquarters.

He had a city to capture.

*****​

As Lecor read the message sent by his Majesty's Government to Sir Hew, Arthur felt more and more apprehensive as time passed. He had no idea of the contents of the letter, but it still felt like it was bad news.

When Lecor finished reading and turned to Generals Castro and Blake to translate the messageto them Arthur tried desperately to understand what little he could, but his rudimentary knowledge of the Portuguese language was unable to follow the quick speech of the Field Marshal. But even he could understand, from his tone that it was a grave matter and, when Castro and Blake began to curse furiously, his fears were confirmed.

Castro turned to face Sir Hew and spoke furiously.

"General Castro asks if this is some kind of joke." translated Lecor after his superior had finished speaking.

"Are you sure that is all he said?" asked Hew, for he doubted that such a long tirade from Castro could be translated to such a small question.

"The General added several words that you don't need to know." snapped Lecor.

"Is this the way a Major General treats a Lieutenant General in this country?"

"General Hew." said Lecor formally. "The only thing that is stopping me from throwing you out from that window is that Generals Castro and Blake would probably demand the pleasure."

"Damn you." snapped Hew. "Tell your General that it is not a joke."

"General Blake demands to know why you British are here, then." said Lecor after translating.

"We are here to fight the French, of course."

Lecor didn't even bother to translate and, instead, asked how they would do it, then.

"On the battlefield, of course."

"Sir Hew." said Lecor, trying hard not to lose his patience again. "How are you to fight if you must ask permission of your government every time your are to cross the border?"

So that's what was in the letter, Arthur thought in dismay. If we are to truly ask Parliament every damn time we are advancing into Spain, no wonder Castro, Blake, and Lecor were enraged.

"All you have to do is inform me and I will inform London and then..."

"And then all of Europe will know our campaign plans." finished Lecor, before turning to the Portuguese and Spanish generals and translating the conversation.

Castro pointed to the British officers and, after another tirade, hit his fist on the table and left the room.

With the meeting thus concluded, Blake quickly followed outside and, in turn, was followed by Sir Hew, leaving only Lecor and Arthur alone on the room.

"And that way, my friend, is how the French managed to defeat us without firing a single shot." said Lecor after a while.

"We will still defeat them on the battlefield." replied Arthur.

"Maybe." said Lecor sadly. "But I doubt it will be with your redcoats marching with us."

As the Portuguese officer left, Arthur had to bitterly agree that that would most likely be true.

*****
​

"It's a real sight, isn't it, colonel?" asked Viriato.

"Indeed it is."

And it was.

After years in Angola, they saw the capital of their fatherland, Lisbon.

After years of exile, they had returned.

"All long as it been Viriato? Six? Five? Four years? How long has it been since we were forced into exile in Africa?"

"Four years. Four years of hellish heat, of constant skirmishes with those damned natives, may they burn in hell, and God knows how many diseases. We survived all that shit and, I tell you, I pity the Frenchy that has to face any of our boys."

Lourenço laughed at that last remark and looked at the city bay.

Everything was just like when he had left. The harbor was still full of life, with ships bringing resources from all over the world, and the streets were filled with people.

One could really feel the city even at this distance.

"We really are back," he muttered.

As the ships approached the harbor, he felt something in his eye and noticed he was crying.

Lourenço didn't care.

He and his men were back home.

*****​

I am particularly happy with the way this update came and come here to inform those that are questioning themselves why no American POV I have to tell you it was going to be one but I had to delay it because I need to add another POV before to ensure the plot doesn't falls apart.

P.S. - Next week, or on the next after that, the why General Castro is so reticent on giving Ciudade Rodrigo to the Spanish will be uncovered.

P.P.S. - This is a version without proofreading, I didn't do it because of lack of time, but the proofreader version will replace this one tomorrow morning, so please forgive me any mistakes on the grammar or on the lexicon.

P.P.P.S. - This is a part of a three part Update I plan to have completely posted until next Monday.

 

[Count of Crisco]

Very good update .And dont worry about not having not proofreading it ,it was fine and the mistakes were not serious enough to make it incomprehensible .

 

[Karolus Rex]

So that all could know the original as been replaced by the corrected version, courtesy of Unknown.

Very good update .And dont worry about not having not proofreading it ,it was fine and the mistakes were not serious enough to make it incomprehensible .

Thanks .

 

[Karolus Rex]

Hi guys.

This is just a little bump to the top to inform you that this TL still ain't dead and my lack of updates on the last two weeks, because I got sick.

But now I am better and you can expect an update anytime soon.

 

[Metacomet]

Great news, not many good Portugese stories.

 

[Karolus Rex]

Credit to Unknown for Editing the Text.

*****

A World on Fire

Part Two​

"Alors, tous les moyens que vous aurez laissés aux Portugais toumeront contre vous; car, enfm, la nation portugaise est brave." - Napoleon Bonaparte to Marshal Soult.[1]​

"But, Your Highness, I still think we should try to reach some sort of agreement with Napoleon."

"Agreement? Have you lost your brain, Azevedo?" Forjaz’s scorn was blatant. "The only thing those damn Jacobins understand is force! Force, I tell you. You will have better luck negotiating with the African savages and Oriental monkeys."

"Unfortunately, Forjaz, it is not your place to decide that." The secretary of Foreign Affairs then turned to the Prince Regent once more. "Your Highness, I beg you, please let me send some envoys to negotiate with the French Emperor."

"Your Highness…" But, before Forjaz could continue, the prince raised his hand, ordering him to shush.

"You both know my mind. I desire peace above every other thing in this world or the next, but I am afraid that Bonaparte will not accept it. Even if we sent him more envoys, the Corsican will just make some more unjust demands that we cannot, and shall not, accept." the prince said, ending the discussion. "So, Azevedo, you are to ensure that the British stay with us, and that this war, unlike the other ones, will not be fought to the last Austrian, Prussian or Portuguese; this time, they must fight. If need be, threaten them, saying that I am willing to accept closing all our ports to their ships if that is what it takes for Napoleon to back down. Even better, tell them that we will ally ourselves with France if they don't fight on the continent."

Finishing with Azevedo, the prince turned to the War Secretary.

"You, Forjaz, make sure that the war effort is kept. If the army or navy needs anything, speak with either me or the Marquis of Aguiar; we will make sure that the funds are gathered, even if I have to sell my wife's jewelry." that last remark was said in a bitter voice. The prince had never forgiven his wife for trying to declare him invalid to rule, and the only thing that had stopped the Prince from getting a divorce was the need of keeping good relations with Spain. "You are both dismissed."

"Your Highness." Said both men while bowing.

*****​

Quarter-Master [2] Rikard Brand of the 2nd Foreign Legion Infantry Battalion looked at a ragtag bunch of men that represented the newest recruits of the FL, while the recently promoted Brigadier General Lourenço walked around them, like a lonely wolf playing with its prey.

"I say there, Quarter-Master." Lourenço shouted. "Never in my life have I seen such poor excuses for men. Shit, even the Spanish have better men and that is putting it at a very low bar."

"Indeed, sir." he agreed. "Even the dansk have better men than this."

The brigadier laughed at that remark and told Brand to send the recruits to the other sergeants.

"No, you are going with me to see the newest bunch that is going to join the second." he told him after he asked if he was to go with the men.

"Very well, sir."

As the two men crossed the compound of the 2nd Royal Hunters they passed through a group of the 2nd's recruits. The two legionnaires gave them an ironical smile and laughed at the stiffness of the Drill Sergeant when the man noticed them.

There was no love lost between the Black and Brown coats.

"Sir, do you mind if I ask: why do you need me with the 2nd recruits?" asked the Swede, as they approached the 2nd's headquarters.

"A bunch of Nordics got drunk while their ship stopped here and ended up in prison and, instead of jail, they decided to join our little group. Doesn't that remind you of something, Quarter-Master?" the officer added in a mocking tone.

"No, sir." he lied.

In reality, it caused him to remember how he joined the Legion, and of how he had gotten himself drunk in Porto with local wine and ended up in the same situation.

The Portuguese are real bunch of bastards, getting a man drunk so that he either joins the Legion or goes to rot in jail.

"So what do you think of our new recruits?" asked the brigadier when they arrived.

Before Brand could think of an answer, the commanding officer of the 2nd had approached them and begun talking with the general in a Portuguese too fast for him to understand completely.

"Shit, another one." the general cursed.

"What is it, sir?"

The colonel of the second responded to the general with a single word.

“Americans.”

"Understood, sir."

Brand understood quite well. There were some Americans on the 1st and they all had the same problem. They all complained that they were being kidnapped and, that, as American citizens, they refused to serve on another nation's army; this wasn’t anything that some beatings and starvation didn't cure, of course.

Well, not all of them complained. A couple were true fire-eaters and had no problem in fighting under another flag.

"Can you break them?"

"Anything is possible, sir, as long as one as the right tools." the Quarter-Master answered.

"You have carte blanche." the general said in a low tone. "You can do anything you wish with them, as long as they learn to obey."

"Sir."

As he begun to think of how they needed to break this American group, he began to feel sorry for the poor bastards.

They are going to learn what the Legion is the hard way.

*****​

John was tired.

He had spent a full night reading report after report and he had found nothing of worth to pin on Wilkinson.

He could had sworn that his mistress was also his contact with Spain but, after God only knows how much time later, all he had found out about the woman was that she had no ties whatsoever with Spain, for she was French.

John sighed as he went for another cup of brandy.

He was missing something and he knew it but what was it? What could it be that was escaping his grasp?

Maybe Wilkinson wasn't a traitor as Burr had claimed and as the President and the Vice-President thought?

Maybe Burr was the real traitor and his accusation of Wilkinson had been a vain attempt to gain time for his own schemes; after all, if the president thought he was the real traitor, Bur’s trial would only take 5 minutes and would end on the wrong side of a rope.

Or maybe this was all a damn charade that would end in nothing.

As he finished this thought, he noticed that both his glass and the bottle were empty.

Even the booze was escaping his grasp.

*****​

"So?" Jean Louis demanded.

"The Americans still think Wilkinson works for Spain."

"Good." he told the spy as he passed him two bags, one full of Spanish dollars and another with golden guineas. "Make sure that the Americans find the one with dollars in Wilkinson's possession and try to put the other one in the possession of someone close to Burr's." After giving him the instructions, he took another, smaller, bag and threw it to the spy as his payment.

As the spy left, Jean Louis waited for a little while before taking the opposite direction towards where he and the rest of his men were staying, pretending to be French exiles.

The moment he approached the house, he knocked three times on the door, stopped for a second, and knocked another single time, indicating to those in the house that he had returned.

"So how did it go?" asked Philippe, as he opened the door.

"It went well." Jean Louis answered the moment the other man closed and locked the door.

"Come on, d'Ville, you can be a little more expressive than that."

"You can send word to le chef that les Américains are falling for it and that the plan is going perfectly."

"He will be very pleased to know that." Commented Philippe with a smile, as he gave Jean a cup of claret.

"Vive la France."

"Vive l'Empereur."

*****​

[1] - to all of you wondering if I am the creator of this phrase, that can be considered as nationalist propaganda, this is an actual quote from Napoleon to Junot, in which he says that if shouted the English come into our support "All the means you have left to the Portuguese will turn against you, for, the Portuguese nation is brave."

[2] - British equivalent is Sergeant-Major

Some of you are probably wondering two things after this:

1 - A Swedish NCO?

2 - Why are a NCO and a CO so informal?

Answers:

1 - The FL only restricts the position of Commission Officer to people of Portuguese origin, but leaves the jobs of NCO's to any member of the ranks independent of nationality as long as he speaks, and knows how to, read and write in Portuguese. Some members ask the Battalions priest's to teach them to learn those skills so that they can rise up the latter.

2 - The FL begun as Penal Battalions, PB's, and despite changing to a Legion it's members still see themselves as outcasts. Because of that the relation's between NCO's and CO's is informal, after all many CO's of the Legion were former NCO's given that not many members of the regular battalions did anything to send them to the PB's. But don't let the informality fool you, discipline is much more brutal in the FL than in the regular's.

P.S. - on the "African Savages and Asian Monkeys" part of the text please bear it in mind that I DON'T hold this type of view, I just used it because Forjaz was OTL and TTL, for all that I could gather, a very aristocratic person that held the believe that those not belonging to the nobility was an inferior being. I apologize if I offended anyone but please remember that in those times things that we would considered racism was considered normal and because I am trying to be as accurate as possible I am forced to use such xpressions.

P.P.S - Sorry for the long delay. I hope this update, and the next one, can compensate the viewers.