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  The man salutes his perspicacity.

  — Decidedly, you will not have stopped surprising us. But beware, arrogance and stupidity are close cousins.

  He hands Erwan an earpiece and plays back part of his recorded message. The voice of the conspirators can be heard.

  Erwan bows.

  So there's no way to see his wife again.

  — No, if you see them, you'll put them in danger. You've done your job. France will be grateful when the time comes. Our republic is entering a dark period. The DGSE is fractured. There are the legitimists who maintain allegiance to Mathieu Tordoli's executive, and those who pledge allegiance to a powerful woman, whom you know well: Michèle Desrivières, the future elected representative of the people. She will take control of the situation, but she needs time.

  Erwan wants to know more, to know if all his efforts have not been in vain and that Amber's attackers will be punished.

  — They'll be tried for high treason, but not by the courts. I don't want to compromise you. The less you know, the better.

  Erwan bows again. He has no choice. And the hundreds of meters of cliff don't make him want to contradict this guy. The man speaks into his earpiece and announces "that Erwan agrees". He's talking to the person in the black sedan in the back. Erwan still throws the USB key from the cliff top. He feels like this little thing blowing itself up on the black rocks below. The director of the DGSE then shows him a video of Claire, who learns that Erwan is dead. She is devastated. It's a stolen video, taken with a telephoto lens. She fell down, sat on the front porch of her mother's house when she heard about it from the gendarmes. Even at this distance, you can still see her round belly. She is holding her hand over her mouth, the policemen don't dare lift her up. Sadness gives way to anger. She chases them away. End of the video.

  — It's tough, but it's the best protection.

  The guy talks like an insurance salesman and tells you you're dead, just like that, overnight. Erwan is mute, unable to utter a single word.

  The mystery man in the car finally gets out of his black sedan.

  He has a message from the acting President of the Republic: "If this information reaches you, you have made the right choice. I know how much you have suffered. How many heroes live in state secrecy? How many have died so that democracy may live? Your efforts are not in vain; society mutates and sometimes takes innocent people away. In the name of the French State and the Presidency of the Republic, I express my gratitude and apologize for any harm I may have caused. I hope that you will have happier days than mine and that you will see your family again. ».

  Suddenly, a little rubbing noise resonates. In an instant, Erwan receives in his face a part of his interlocutor's brain, and sees the body of the blonde woman in a balaclava collapsing.

  The man who just shot was the driver of the black sedan. He's screaming at Erwan and Dominic's man of trust.

  — Get in! Get in!

  — What the fuck...

  Chapter 30

  Erwan wipes his face as best he can. He's still shaking. He can't stand the idea of having human brains on his face. He can't help it, he's screaming.

  — Haaaaaaa! Fuck! I'm entitled to some fucking explanations, I'm fucking sick of it! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  — Yeah, I had to, that's where they'd kill you sooner or later. You were perfect. Now they think you've bought into their schemes, and you're going to, because we still need you.

  — I don't get it, I don't get it.

  — Michèle made the mistake of not killing you immediately. She thought she was following the trail of a dissident cell. In the end, she realized she hadn't. The only thing you owe her mother is your life.

  Erwan, rummages through his jacket and finds the little cockade that Michèle's mother gave him.

  — According to our information, Michèle will do anything to get herself elected, and no longer return power: she wants to restore the Empire. She's dangerous. So are you now, and we need people like you. Allies are a handful.

  — But what happens now?

  — War, sir, civil war, you have to be prepared for it.

  — But that's impossible!

  — You think so? Wait until the French understand that she'll never give up power.

  — But it must be stopped.

  — She's got all the corps with her, all the major generals. Yes, we'll need you, but not now. You're going to take this job, make it look like you didn't see anything.

  — But I saw everything! I'm talking to you!

  The car stops, on the edge of the forest.

  — I'm sorry, it's for your own good. It has to be credible.

  — Wait!

  The man hits Erwan violently.

  Which is falling apart.

  Chapter 31

  Somewhere in French Guiana, on France 24, we learn that the police have discovered the body of deputy Dominique, dead on the motorway. He is accused of plotting an attack against the President of the Republic. The police found lots of evidence at his home proving that he had a grudge against the Head of State, including a USB key. Undoubtedly taken by the magnitude of the events and the underlying madness in him, Dominique wanted to escape the police. The officers invoked self-defence. In any case, he is a lonely and unbalanced man. In accordance with the Constitution, new early elections will be held as early as next week.

  For the first time ever, Premier Mathieu Tordoli is a favourite in the polls. There will be no primaries on the left, and the right is preparing its revenge.

  — Sir, sir? ask Erwan for a young black woman, very elegant.

  — Yeah, I'm on my way.

  Erwan was glued to the television. He follows the young woman, a hostess, who shows him around her new apartment in the engineering district of Kourou. Erwan has grown a beard, he's unrecognizable.

  Erwan's name is no longer Erwan, but Thomas. He's in charge of relations with the mainland for a sworn private company on the space site.

  A golden job, well paid.

  — You'll see here people are nice.

  — Well, I'm glad, he lets it slip out with a smirk on his face.

  — Have you been here before?

  — No, never.

  — How long are you staying?

  — As long as it takes...

  The girl hands him the keys and gives him the day off.

  The door slams.

  Erwan rushes to the computer, and rushes to Facebook.

  He's visiting Claire's profile.

  She's due in a few days...

  Apparently she found their dream house.

  He swears he'll see her again someday.

  Chapter 32

  Prime Minister Mathieu Tordoli is not yet an official candidate in the presidential election. He therefore still has the right to take the Falcon 900 from the State one last time, which will take him to a meeting with the German Chancellor, to seek more than support and allegiance. Social networks blame him for this, and the cameras are filming the trip live on the tarmac at Le Bourget. The Facebook broadcast has thousands of views. The comments scroll so fast that you can't read them. Angry emoticons pollute the screen.

  The chartered plane is taking the head of government on board.

  Suddenly, in full ascent, the Falcon explodes, pulverized in the air.

  Thank you for purchasing THE LAST PRESIDENT 1: The Fall

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  Contact

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  https://christophemartinolli.fr

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  https://twitter.com/Martinolli

  As the characters and situations in this story are purely fictional, any resemblance to existing or former persons or situations can only be fortuitous...

  THE LAST PRESIDENT Trilogy 1 of 3: The Fall

  Revised
from french version of 6 November 2017

  THE

  LAST

  PRESIDENT

  II

  Christophe Martinolli

  Under

  the

  ashes

  To my wife Celine

  Chapter 1

  Five years after the revolt...

  Claire has been dreading this day since Erwan's disappearance.

  The square black wooden frame surrounding the mirror now only reflects his image. It often appeared behind her at that time. That's why she still leaves the bathroom door open. He liked to watch her getting ready, slipping the red lipstick over her pulpy lips. At first, she found it strange and repelled his curiosity. But sometimes she would give him this delicious little treat. Her benevolent almond-shaped eyes, inherited from a distant Tonkin skirmisher relative,2 filled with love, were a warm blanket for those frosty mornings. There's only one man in the world who looked at her like that. She waited years for him before resigning herself to accept his death. She never believed the official government statement. She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. His whole body was telling her that he was alive, somewhere. And then the light faded as time went on. And then she had to face their child's questions when her mouth started asking painful questions. The hope was a very faint glow, which eventually faded away as well. She resigned herself to accepting it, to giving answers. Erwan is dead. He will never come back.

  Her green eyes, concentrated, Claire combed her long brown hair for a long time to make it shine. She wants to be beautiful for the one who tragically left her five long years ago. She takes out of her hair bag, discreet purple hair clips. She gathers her hair into thick braids. At the last moment, in a perfectly controlled movement, she brings it back on top, revealing her naked neck. Then, with one finger, she dips her index finger on the end of a bottle of rose essence and slips it over her neck to scent her bare skin.

  Suddenly, a small voice echoes in the living room.

  — Mommy! I win! I win!

  —Bravo! Did you put your tights on by yourself?

  — Yes!

  — Then yes, you win! I'm not ready yet. Have you finished your drawing for Daddy?

  The cell phone is vibrating. It's a text message from Benedict. He'll meet them at the cemetery as scheduled in half an hour.

  Lana, a little blonde girl with blue eyes, suddenly appears with a piece of paper in her hand. It's a drawing that she prepared meticulously. She drew her daddy in the sky, with the birds... This time, she colored the sun. The first time since she could draw.

  Claire bursts into tears.

  She read somewhere that the sun represented the father figure. This ray of light is a blessing on this fateful day.

  — You're my light, sweetheart, your daddy would love your drawing, I'm sure he can see you from where he is.

  — Mom, it's black right in front of your eyes.

  — I know, I know, I know, I know, I know.

  — Mommy, give me his kiss.

  — I love you, angel.

  His mother kisses him tenderly on the cheek, and kisses him again.

  — This one's on me!

  — Nooo! Wait, we're exchanging thoughts.

  Lana puts her index finger gently between her mom's eyes and then between hers.

  — Your turn now!

  Claire's running. Something's happening. The cell phone's vibrating again.

  — Come on! Let's not be late! Your brother and father are waiting for us!

  Claire closes the heavy wooden door of her stone house. It's a house that was used as a refuge for the Templars, it seems. She found bones and a chapel under the floor when she redid the tiles herself, which she carefully put back in place. If there are ghosts, they are benevolent. This house was their dream with Erwan. Every day when she leaves it, she takes the time to observe the baou de Saint-Jeannet overlooking their farmhouse. This imposing mountain looks like the one in Steven Spielberg's film Encounter of the Third Kind. No wonder the Col de Vence is famous for seeing strange lights in the night. Its house, its fireplace, the inscriptions in Latin letters on the walls, the alley of olive trees, it's all there.

  He would've liked her, that's for sure.

  — Mom, then what are you doing?

  — I'm coming, sweetheart.

  The doors of the sedan are slamming. Suddenly, the alarm sounds, Lana's not wearing her seatbelt properly. She starts screaming.

  — Doudou! Where is my Doudou ?

  — You didn't take it with you?

  — No, I don't want to leave without a teddy bear!

  — Here, look...

  — Doudou! Where was he ?

  — Hidden in my bag... Good thing I thought of that, huh.

  — Thank you, Mommy," she says, reaching out her arms to grab the worn and damaged plush, full of holes.

  — Come on, andiamo, we can go, we're really gonna get yelled at. There are a lot fewer roadblocks now on the road, but still.

  The car starts.

  It gently follows the small dirt road lined with century-old olive trees that leads to the asphalt road with a hairpin.

  When you sign in, the phone rings and the hands-free kit answers in its place. It's Pierre. The MP, mentor and best friend of his Erwan, hasn't phoned in a while. Claire was just worried.

  — Claire, it's Pierre.

  — How are you? Do you look tired?

  — Yeah, I haven't heard from you because I'm at Percy's military hospital.

  — How? What's happened?

  — My heart stopped for two minutes.

  — God, but when? When?

  — Are you driving here?

  — Yes, I'm going to the cemetery.

  — Look, I'll call you later, but don't worry, I'm all better. I'm solid. I wanted to call you about Erwan, how's it going with the girl?

  — Yeah, it's okay, she's listening to you now.

  — Hello, Pierre!

  — Hi, Lana! I'm sure you've got your blankie with you, give her a big kiss from me, will you ?

  — I promise!" she said, running to the spot.

  — I'll talk to you later Claire, good luck.

  — Especially for you, let me know, I'll give you a kiss.

  Pierre hangs up.

  The cabin is quiet.

  — How about some music?

  If You Can't Love Me by Sting sounds in the car.

  The car drives a quarter of an hour and arrives at the first checkpoint. Today only a few cars are queuing. It's much faster since the introduction of a queue reserved for vans. But the vehicle just in front of it is longer than usual and the police are suddenly nervous. The vehicle is set aside for a more thorough search. Claire drives by without any trouble. Sandbags, speed bumps, military on duty and control are all part of the routine.

  Chapter 2

  Claire and Lana park in the Caucade cemetery car park, above the Victorine cinema studios and Nice airport.

  The weather is beautiful.

  The blue sea draws a line on the horizon. Green cypresses punctuate the landscape. In rhythm, the cicadas sing. It is warm and bright, but the sea wind is cool.

  Standing against his Mercedes coupe, Benedict, in his grey Hugo Boss suit, the one Claire gave him for his birthday, is waiting with Théophile, his teenage son who won't pick up his mobile.

  — Theo, you can unplug now, they're coming.

  — Okay, well...

  Benedict wears his forty-nine years old with elegance, but his youthful appearance easily makes him ten years younger. Claire's thirty-five years old and the age difference is not noticeable. Benedict is an ophthalmologist and professor emeritus at the University of Nice. He is known for his research in macular degeneration, and has made a lot of money with the co-discovery of a revolutionary treatment.

  — Hey, honey, you didn't have too much trouble with the roadblocks?

  — No, I'm late, it's all my fault.

  — But you're very beautiful, and you smell go
od.

  He turns to his daughter-in-law, Lana.

  — And how is the most beautiful girl in the world?

  — Yeah, I'm fine.

  — Are you sad?

  — I don't, but he does," she said, pointing to her tired cuddly toy.

  — You have a right to be sad. It's a sad day for you and your mommy.

  Benedict turns to Claire.

  — And for me, too, for that matter.

  Claire smiles.

  — Shall we?

  Benedict now turns to Theophilus.

  — You don't have to come if you want.

  — No, it's okay," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

  Claire embraces him tenderly.

  — Thank you, Theophilus, I'm glad you came too.

  Claire looks him in the eye, deep down, like one loves a son. Theophile sketches a smile. Theo is secret. He hides his feelings behind long bangs.

  The little family arrives in front of the family vault. Erwan's picture is a bit dirty. Claire cleans it and leaves a pretty bouquet of red roses: monarchs, her favourite. Lana puts down her drawing and slides it through a gap in the granite.

  The little family is silent. There's sadness, but no longer the torrents of tears of recent years. The eyes remain dry, even if the heart hasn't forgotten.

  Chapter 3

  While Benedict uncorked a 2014 Hermitage, Claire's favourite red wine, Claire hung up with Senator Pierre.