Reincarnated: Vive La France
Chapter 265: He didn’t like the tone but he understood the message.

Chapter 265: He didn’t like the tone but he understood the message.

Hitler stood near the large window of the conference room, arms crossed, staring outside.

Keitel cleared his throat behind him. "Mein Führer, Guderian’s latest report came two hours ago. The French now control a corridor from Barbastro to Laluenga. Their engineers are laying rail lines as they move."

Hitler didn’t respond.

Keitel shifted. "Franco’s lines are folding. It is remarkable. No defensive posture is holding longer than an hour. The speed..."

"I’ve seen the map," Hitler interrupted.

There was a pause.

He turned. "And what do you make of it?"

Keitel hesitated. "They are not fighting conventionally. Logistics, mechanization, pace. But it’s quieter. Less... visible."

Hitler walked slowly toward the table where Guderian’s reports were spread.

Sketches, unit reports, intelligence intercepts.

He tapped one finger against a marked triangle near Huesca.

"We thought the French Republic was weak. Fractured. These are not the tactics of a crumbling state."

"No," Keitel agreed. "They’re not."

Hitler leaned forward, voice low. "And Franco?"

"Requesting aid again. Urgent. He says they will lose Aragón within the week without material and manpower."

"Then send it."

Keitel blinked. "Mein Führer..."

"Quietly," Hitler said. "No declarations. No flags. No insignia. No headlines. Just the steel and the blood it needs."

He looked up. "We cannot lose Spain."

"There is risk," Keitel said cautiously. "The French might interpret movement across the border as an act of war."

"They won’t," Hitler said. "They can’t. They’re not ready. All their momentum is focused south. They’re overextending, even if they don’t know it yet."

Keitel considered. "You want to reinforce Guderian?"

"Yes. Double his men. Expand armored support. Fuel, transport, field hospitals. Not through the north. Too exposed. Use the central Pyrenees. Night convoys. Air support from southern France, unmarked."

"And command?"

"Still under Franco on paper," Hitler said. "But make no mistake. Guderian chooses the ground. He executes the plan."

He paused. "If we keep Franco afloat, we still control the shape of Iberia. If we lose him, France controls the peninsula."

Keitel nodded slowly.

"Send word to Rome," Hitler added.

"Of course."

"Tell Mussolini the French are seeding permanence. Not occupation, civilian systems. They’re digging in with engineers, not tanks. If he has any sense of future power, he’ll match us."

"Troops?"

"No. Material, transport, surveillance. Let him claim neutrality. But if we go in alone and they win, Italy becomes obsolete."

Keitel made a note.

Hitler walked back to the window.

"They’re moving like they already won," he said. "But they haven’t. They’ve only surprised the ones who thought they wouldn’t fight at all."

A knock at the door.

Bormann entered, handed over a sealed telegram.

Hitler opened it, scanned.

"Spanish eastern command collapsed yesterday."

Keitel looked up.

"They abandoned the Zaragoza route completely. French have full control of logistics through Casbas. They’re calling it ’arterial warfare’ now."

"Who is?"

"Foreign observers. British press."

Keitel’s jaw tightened.

"Mobilize the political wing," Hitler said. "Control the narrative. Deny intervention. Frame it as a regional realignment. Call it unfortunate but local."

"And if the French accuse us?"

"They won’t. They can’t risk a second war. Not now. Their own population is still recovering. They’re moving fast because they know they must."

Keitel folded his arms. "And if they don’t stop?"

"They won’t stop," Hitler said. "Which is why we intervene now, not later. If we wait until they reach Madrid, it’s too late."

Bormann remained near the door. "Shall I prepare communiqué to Italian intelligence?"

"Yes. Keep it to backchannels. Tell them to move in tandem, not together. Parallel support. Supplies through Valencia corridor. Field technicians only."

He paused. "No uniforms. No German or Italian boots on public soil."

Bormann nodded and left.

Hitler turned again to Keitel. "I want a map prepared. Not of Spain. Of the French border. I want to know where they would bleed if pressed."

Keitel raised an eyebrow. "Planning escalation?"

"No," Hitler said. "I’m planning pressure."

In Spain, Guderian stood next to a barn where his team had set up a temporary field station.

The radios came with coded German dispatches.

A Spanish officer stood nearby, clearly uneasy.

"They’re not holding the ridge near Vicien," the Spaniard said. "They passed through the village and moved on before we even registered it. No artillery, no warning."

Guderian didn’t answer immediately.

His aide handed him a decoded message.

He read it quickly.

"You have new orders," he told the Spanish officer. "Your units will remain in visual support of our armor, but you are not to engage directly without instruction."

The officer frowned. "But the terrain.."

"You’re not defending terrain," Guderian said. "You’re supporting motion."

He turned to his aide. "We begin the Nachtzug tonight. Through the central corridor. Fuel trucks at the Arén junction."

"Yes, sir."

"And bring in the heavier units. Not for engagement. For deterrence."

The aide nodded and stepped out.

Guderian looked across the valley where

French supply teams were building a rail tie.

"They’re moving like clockmakers," he murmured.

The Spanish officer looked puzzled.

"They build like they already belong here," Guderian said.

In Rome, Mussolini read the German communication twice.

He didn’t like the tone, but he understood the message.

He poured himself a small glass of red wine and walked to the garden balcony.

The breeze was soft.

Somewhere below, a minister argued about budgets.

Ciano entered.

"You saw the message?" Mussolini asked.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"They’re right."

Mussolini sighed. "The French are colonizing Spain with engineers. Not soldiers."

Ciano nodded. "They’re building permanence."

"Send the materials," Mussolini said. "Fuel, metal, rails, field medicine. Not men."

"Understood."

Mussolini drained the glass. "And no headlines. Let them think Italy sleeps through winter."

By the end of the week, the French intercepted two rail convoys heading toward Zaragoza, unmarked but unmistakably German-made.

They didn’t stop them.

Rivet received the report and handed it to Moreau.

"Equipment traced back to Leipzig," he said. "But no insignia. No troops. Just logistics."

Moreau scanned the document, then looked out the command tent where engineers were surveying the foundations of a communications relay.

"They’re not ready to make it official," he said.

Rivet waited.

"Its working, all the players are now on the chess board."

"What do we do?"

"Nothing," Moreau said. "Let them panic quietly. If they’re moving resources under the table, it means they still think they can control the outcome."

"And if they escalate?"

"We adapt faster."

Rivet didn’t respond.

Moreau continued, "Everything is going according to the plan Rivet. I thought it will take more time but it seems Hitler is more impatient then I thought."

Moreau stared at Rivet and spoke.

"Start Phase 2."