CHAPTER 376: CHAPTER 371: THE MOLE IN THE EMBASSY

I have received your telegram. After unanimous discussion among the French Cabinet, it has been decided to grant you the authority to dispatch the Mediterranean Fleet at any time. You may deploy the Mediterranean Fleet from Marseille Port and the Naples sea area for reinforcements if you believe the negotiations are nearing a breakdown, to safeguard the Ottoman Empire’s security.

Remember! Be sure to delay the war as much as possible to leave sufficient preparation time for French intervention!!!!

Emperor of the French Empire, Jerome Bonaparte.

After reading the telegram, Valerovsky felt an inexplicable pressure, the source of which was the telegram that was only half a page in size.

Although the content of the telegram seemed to merely allocate the rights to a few warships under his command, behind the warships lied a country’s strategic focus for the coming years.

Should France step in, a war centered around the Near East would be inevitable.

Hundreds of thousands slashing at each other, with the fate of two countries resting on Valerovsky’s shoulders at this moment.

For a moment, Valerovsky was unsure whether he should thank his cousin far away, or send his size 40 boots flying across the miles to smack his cousin’s face. Although the latter would only happen in Valerovsky’s dreams, and only during the day.

In any case, the burden on Valerovsky was undoubtedly getting heavier.

Thinking about it, Valerovsky shook his head, lamenting to himself: "The situation in the Near Eastern region is becoming increasingly perilous!"

Subsequently, Valerovsky cast a glance at the telegraph operators. The two men sitting by the telegraph machine were as emotionless as machines, silent, with no emotion visible on their faces.

Valerovsky nodded in satisfaction towards the telegraph operators he personally recruited.

As telegraph operators responsible for transmitting confidential documents, their secrecy and loyalty must be high.

A silent telegraph operator lives much longer than one with a big mouth idling around all day.

"Alright! You should go back and rest!" Valerovsky issued the order to rest.

"Yes!" The two telegraph operators stood up, responded to Valerovsky, and left the telegraph room.

Watching the figures of the two telegraph operators leaving, Valerovsky nodded in satisfaction once more.

Valerovsky was unaware that the two seemingly "personally" recruited telegraph operators were actually personnel from the Foreign Intelligence Bureau of the National Intelligence Bureau.

Except for the embassy in the Far Eastern region, most embassies were filled with the National Intelligence Bureau’s spies.

However, most of these people were peripheral personnel who didn’t understand the Foreign Intelligence Bureau or the National Intelligence Bureau. They only knew they were serving the Police Department.

This layered technique was considered advanced design in an era of underdeveloped 19th-century espionage systems. It could effectively protect the operational structure of the National Intelligence Bureau from discovery; the less conspicuous the intelligence organization, the more energy it could generate.

Only those in the core were the true members of the National Intelligence Bureau, and these guys often hid very deeply.

Valerovsky evidently did not realize that his own embassy had been infiltrated by the National Intelligence Bureau to the extent that it was like a sieve, and he was rejoicing over being able to recruit excellent telegraph operators.

After Valerovsky, with his prominent belly, leisurely closed the telegraph room door with a kerosene lamp and left not long after, a shadow moved stealthily along the wall.

In the silent corridor, there was only the faintest noise. It crept up to the telegraph room door, gently pushing it open.

As the shadow pushed the door open, a slight "caca" sound was heard. Once the door was ajar enough for a person to slip through, it tiptoed into the telegraph room.

Entering the telegraph room, the shadow seemed to navigate skillfully, reaching the table without touching any obstacles.

After a meticulous search, the shadow finally located the piece of paper Valerovsky had placed on the table.

Originally only attempting with a trial mindset, the shadow became overjoyed. It took out a box of yellow phosphorus matches and a candle from its pocket.

The yellow phosphorus match, lightly struck against the phosphor surface, produced a flame that ignited the candle as soon as it touched it.

With the help of the candlelight, the shadow saw the contents on the paper, and having roughly seen the contents, it returned the paper to its original place, then gently blew out the candle and left the telegraph room.

The shadow, having carefully closed the door again, thought it was foolproof, yet failed to notice a strand of hair that had fallen to the ground.

And this strand of hair was exactly the same color as the hair on Valerovsky’s head.

Early the next morning, after rising early from bed, Valerovsky drew the curtains open and observed Istanbul through the window glass.

The 19th-century Constantinople was filled with onion-domed buildings. Most of the men coming and going on the streets wore white coats, with some having a layer of cloth wrapped around their heads.

And as for the women, they wrapped their entire bodies, leaving only their jet-black eyes visible, making it impossible to discern whether there was a goddess or a dragon under the veil.

Of course, Constantinople also had a group of people wearing suits, the majority of whom were merchants traveling between Constantinople and other European countries. Another portion was members of other ethnic groups residing in Istanbul.

Through three months of observation, Valerovsky discovered the decay of this city, which was not surface decay but decay at the spiritual level.

Even the Tanzimat Reforms were no more than a decorative layer over a decaying shell. This city, and even this country’s core had not changed in any way.

Ultimately, Valerovsky also reached a conclusion.

If the Ottoman Empire does not change its core feudal system mixed with bureaucracy, clergy, and the Guard Army, there is fundamentally no possibility for any change.

All the reforms of the Ottoman Empire so far have merely allowed their decaying body to barely continue.

If this empire had faced destruction in the 18th century, its evaluation might have been much better.

The French Empire is only maintaining the barely functioning of this empire for its own interests.

Looking down at the embassy road bustling with people, Valerovsky sighed again.

At this moment, a knock on the door sounded.

"Who is it?" Valerovsky turned and shouted towards the door.

"Sir, it’s time to eat!" The voice of the deputy military officer came from outside the door.

"Got it!"

Upon hearing the call, Valerovsky immediately opened the door and went downstairs to eat. When he passed by the telegraph room, he found that its door was still tightly closed.

In the embassy’s dining room, Valerovsky was having breakfast while reading the newspaper, and he casually asked, "There shouldn’t have been anyone in the telegraph room last night, right?"

After Valerovsky asked this question, he heard a "smack" sound from across the table.

Valerovsky slightly raised his head to find the deputy military officer sitting opposite had spilled milk on the table.

"I sincerely apologize, I just didn’t hold it steady!" The military attendant awkwardly said to Valerovsky.

"No worries! Just be careful next time!" Valerovsky instructed the embassy servants to replace the milk.

The servant hurriedly wiped up the milk and then helped the deputy military officer replace it with a new glass.

After eating and drinking, Valerovsky returned once again to the telegraph room. As he pushed open the door, he noticed that the hair he had placed in the door last night was gone, and he crouched down to pick it up.

Then he looked towards the interior of the telegraph room; it seemed no one had touched anything, indicating that the "thief" was not here to steal objects.

Soon after, Valerovsky approached the telegraph paper and gently picked it up. He noticed that the short hair he had placed under the telegraph paper was also missing.

It seemed the thief’s purpose was indeed the contents of the telegraph; a smile appeared at the corner of Valerovsky’s mouth.

And the contents of the telegraph paper in his hand showed some differences from the original.

The contents after "remember" in the second line were all deleted, and the core content of the telegram switched from being primarily about delay and secondarily about war to a compromise nature document.

Transforming into a declaration of war by the Ottoman Empire at all costs.

And everything Valerovsky did was to confuse certain countries.

Four days had passed, which was March 12th,

On this day from the morning, the sky was overcast with clouds.

Under the dark oppressive sky, one could clearly see the silhouette of seagulls skimming low.

Around 10 in the morning, as a flash of lightning pierced through the clouds, it was followed by thunder resonating throughout Constantinople and a downpour.

Above Constantinople, it was as if God had opened a gap and poured down household rinse water relentlessly.

The sudden rain forced pedestrians on the streets to take shelter under eaves, waiting for the rain to ease.

The fierce raindrops hitting against the embassy glass made a "pitter-patter" sound.

Standing in front of the window panes, Valerovsky glanced at the downpour outside and unconsciously shook his head.

Rain falling at precisely this moment, it is really unknown if it’s a coincidence or intentionally arranged.

The rain persisted for over an hour before gradually abating. An hour after that, the torrential rain turned to a drizzling haze.

At this time, the streets of Constantinople had become waterlogged, and the people who had been avoiding the storm lightly stepped into puddles, splashing water as high as half-leg high.

It was amidst this misty drizzle that a steam cruiser approached from afar, heading for the port of Constantinople.

The commander in charge of piloting this warship was Admiral Vladimir Kornilov, Chief of Staff of the Black Sea Fleet, and the "passenger" of this cruiser was none other than Menshikov, the Russian "War and Peace plenipotentiary envoy."