Reincarnated: Vive La France Chapter 18 18: The Investigation Begins

The wreckage of the Renault FT sat in eerie silence.

The sun was beginning to set but the investigation was only just beginning.

Lieutenant Jean Fournier of the Gendarrie Nationale stepped carefully over the periter rope, his polished boots pressing into the dirt as he surveyed the charred remains.

He had seen accidents before, but this didn't feel like one.

The two chanics waiting beside the wreck Lefebvre and his assistant, Dumas stood stiffly, their hands still sared with oil and soot.

They had been pulled off their routine duties and given a direct order: examine every inch of the Renault and determine the cause of the explosion.

Fournier turned to Lefebvre, who was already running his fingers over the twisted remains of the engine casing, his brow furrowed.

"Let's get to it," Fournier said, flipping open his notebook. "Tell what you see."

Lefebvre grunted, crouching down as he ran a hand along the side of the engine. "Sothing's off."

Dumas, younger and more cautious, adjusted his cap before kneeling next to him. "It's not a normal engine failure. The casing is too warped, almost like it burst from the inside."

Fournier scribbled sothing down. "Could that happen under extre heat?"

Lefebvre scoffed. "Not like this. These engines run hot, sure. But they don't just—"

He gestured at the mangled tal. "Detonate."

Dumas, his voice quieter, added, "If this were just heat buildup, the failure would be gradual. The crew would've noticed sothing wrong before it went off. But they didn't."

Fournier glanced up. "And what does that an?"

Lefebvre exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "It ans soone helped it fail."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unmistakable.

Lefebvre stood and gestured for Fournier to follow him toward the partially collapsed fuel system.

The sll of burnt gasoline still lingered, but beneath the soot, sothing else caught his attention.

He pointed at a thin, lted strip of tal near the engine's intake valves.

"That's where it started," he muttered. "See the warping? The fire spread outward, not inward."

Fournier narrowed his eyes. "So it wasn't an internal failure."

"No," Lefebvre confird. "It was tampered with."

Dumas, still kneeling, reached into his tool bag and pulled out a small chisel.

Carefully, he chipped away at a section of the twisted piping, revealing a thin, copper coil embedded in the damaged tal.

Fournier's breath hitched. "What the hell is that?"

Lefebvre's jaw tightened. "A detonator wire."

Silence.

Dumas exhaled, shaking his head. "No way this was an accident. Soone wanted this tank to go up in flas."

Fournier's grip on his notebook tightened.

He had walked into this expecting a simple case of chanical failure.

Now he was standing in the middle of a deliberate act of sabotage.

Fournier stepped away from the wreckage and motioned for his two sergeants to approach.

"Lock down the maintenance records. I want a list of every man who touched this Renault in the last two weeks. chanics, tank crews, officers everyone."

One of the sergeants, a lean man with sharp eyes, nodded. "What about Moreau?"

Fournier hesitated for a brief second, then shook his head. "He wasn't near the tank before the explosion. We'll question him, but we're not jumping to conclusions."

The sergeant smirked. "So in Paris might disagree."

Fournier ignored the comnt.

This wasn't about politics, it was about facts.

He turned back to Lefebvre. "Tell about the Renault's last maintenance cycle. Who worked on it?"

Lefebvre frowned, rubbing his chin. "Officially? Just my team. But…"

He hesitated. "The barracks have been busy. People move in and out of the maintenance bay all the ti. Soone could've tampered with it during a shift change."

Fournier sighed, closing his notebook for a mont.

This was getting worse by the second.

"If this is sabotage," he said slowly, "then that ans we're dealing with soone who has knowledge of armored vehicles. Soone who knew exactly how to rig the engine to explode without drawing attention."

Lefebvre nodded. "Whoever did this wasn't so half-trained recruit playing a prank. This was a professional job."

Dumas added, "And sir, this thod of sabotage… it's not French."

Fournier's gaze snapped toward him. "Explain."

Dumas hesitated, glancing at Lefebvre for permission before speaking.

"I saw sothing like this before," he said carefully. "Years ago, during training exercises near the Belgian border. The Belgians had been dealing with sabotage attempts on their tanks soone had rigged their fuel lines to explode in a very similar way. They suspected foreign agents, but nothing was ever proven."

Fournier's mind raced through the implications.

If this wasn't just internal politics… if this was an outside operation… then the army had a much bigger problem than just a rogue saboteur.

Fournier strode toward the barracks, the tension in his shoulders tightening as he prepared for the next step in the investigation.

Inside, the first round of questioning was already underway.

chanics, tank crews, and junior officers were being pulled into separate rooms one by one, interrogated under the watchful eyes of the military police.

Fournier stepped into one of the rooms, where a young chanic sat stiffly in a wooden chair, his uniform still stained with oil.

Across from him, a gendar sat with a clipboard, scribbling notes.

The chanic's hands were fidgeting, his expression tense.

Fournier sat down across from him, leveling a calm but firm gaze.

"You're nervous," he observed.

The chanic swallowed hard. "I—I didn't do anything, sir."

"Good," Fournier said. "Then you won't mind answering a few questions."

The chanic nodded quickly.

Fournier leaned forward slightly. "Do you know who was in the maintenance bay the night before the explosion?"

The chanic hesitated. "Uh… I an… there's always people moving through, but… well, I did see sothing strange."

Fournier's eyes narrowed. "Go on."

The chanic licked his lips. "There was an officer. I didn't recognize him at first he wasn't one of the usual ones that checks in on us. But he was standing near the Renaults, like he was watching sothing."

Fournier's pulse quickened. "Describe him."

The chanic furrowed his brow, thinking. "Tall, dark hair. Looked like an officer, but I couldn't see his insignia. And he left as soon as I walked in almost like he didn't want to be seen."

Fournier leaned back in his chair. "And you didn't report this?"

The chanic looked down. "Didn't think it mattered at the ti."

Fournier nodded slowly.

He knew what was coming next.

More questioning.

More uncertainty.

And more pressure to find answers before this beca sothing bigger.

He glanced toward the door, where his sergeant was waiting with a list of officers stationed in Verdun.

They had their first lead.

And if they didn't handle it carefully, this was about to explode into sothing far bigger than just one sabotaged tank.