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... s foundry.
Molten light from the furnaces flared.
To most men, it was chaos.
To Major Étienne Moreau, it was something close to divine music.
He stepped into the foundry with a folder tucked tightly under one arm and a cigarette already burning between his fingers.
It had been nearly two weeks since the meeting at the Ministry two weeks of drafting, recalculating, redrawing.
And now, with Beauchamp’s blessing and the full attention of Hotchkiss, th ...
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