27 May 1958 2AM, St. Cloud Paris
The streets of this wealthy Paris suburb are quiet and deserted, the only movement is a stooped and shuffling older man. He has been out of the public eye of France for 10 years, his hair is white now, his shoulders are lower, and a belly has grown, but his silhouette is unmistakable. The old man's eyes have gotten worse during his years out of public life, the late hour and thick fog have him nervously clutching at his glasses. An assistant who's name the old man had forgotten appeared out of the fog at his elbow "I'll bring the car around le général" the old man didn't look up "Merci". The man that the old man had been in a 8 hour meeting with stepped into the street speaking to the older man "I'll take what we've talked about to le Président, I would support you, but there are constitutional issues" the old man looked up from his hands turning his glasses over and over "oui, I know, but make it quick, time is short". A shadow passed over the other man's face, and the old man felt the same embarrassment that had flouted over the meeting. Though the old man had picked St. Cloud for the meeting he hadn't thought of its history till shortly before he arrived, the Napoleonic ghosts had hunted the meeting. The old man had said a number times that at 67 he was too old to become a Napoleon, however the look on the Prime Minster's face showed even now he wasn't convinced. A black car pulled around and stopped in front of the two men, the drive got out and opened the back door of the Peugeot 403. The Prime Minster stepped forward and got into the car looking up at the older man "see you tomorrow le général" the unspoken "unless the Paras land" hangs in the air for a moment before the Prime Minster looked away and his driver closed his door, got into the car and it pulled away leaving the old man alone for a moment. A second black Peugeot 403 pulled up and the old man got in before his assistant could get out and open the door for him. The Car pulled away into the foggy street, the old man's assistant turned around to look at the General in the back seat
"do you think that the meeting went well sir?"
"oui, but Monsieur doesn't trust me, I think he thinks I'm a gray haired Napoleon"
"Not so gray sir"
"merci son, can you see the road its so very foggy tonight"
"It's bad sir, just rolling off the Seine"
The old man strained his weak eyes to see out of the windshield and penetrate the thick fog.
"Should I slow down our driving sir"
"No its late this old soldier needs to get into bed, Yvonne is waiting for me"
the driver nodded and sped up a bit, and the old man looked down at his hands his mind raking over the details of his long night meeting, the mounting crisis and dreams of a few hours of sleep for his aching bones. The Driver shouted "oh mon dieu!" the old man looked up sharply and the last thing he saw was a dark shape looming out of the fog.
27 May 1958 5am, Office of the Prime Minster
Pierre Pflimlin sat in his office, the stress of his 14 day long premiership and his late night meeting had robbed him for his sleep. He rereads reports on the arming of National police, at lest those that could be trusted. Other reports on evaluating VIP, building barricades at key points, a request signed by all 150 Communist members of the National Assembly to arm the 10,000 claimed militants at the PCF's disposal. Pflimlin was coming to terms that his time in the top job had come to a close, the Algiers coup had gotten their way, he only hoped the man of the hour was up to the job of saving the Republic. The door of the office banged out and the Prime Minster's personal secretary came in at a near run her face was as white as a sheet. "sir" she said "we have a report in from Préfet de Police" tears showed at the corner of her eyes "it's ... le général....". The Prime Minster's heart started to race and a cold chill ran down his back "spit it out woman whats happened to him!" "sir, Charles de Gaulle is dead"