The corridors of the Ministry of War in Paris was full of noise.
On the morning of May 14th, the city was gray with rain.
But inside the Palais des Invalides, under the gold dome, the brass was polishing its knives.
The success of Moreau's prototype at Reims had travelled fast.
Too fast.
By the time General Beauchamp's preliminary report had reached the inner circle, a different kind of firing line had already formed.
Politicians, procurement officers, arms contractors, and jealous colonels who'd spent the last ten years protecting their slivers of budget like starving wolves around a carcass.
The Pistolet Automatique de Proximité "PAP," as it had come to be nicknamed by the troops was more than a weapon now.
It was a threat.
Not to the Germans.
But to them.
"Who the hell approved this in the first place?" hissed General Binet, head of the Ordnance Review Board, as he slapped a file down in front of War Minister Jean Fabry.
