The same day, two hours later. Republic of France. Palace of Versailles.
Berthier's footsteps echoed urgently down the polished hallway of the Palace of Versailles. His breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted toward Napoleon's office. As he rounded the final corner, he spotted Beaumont, standing watch by the door.
Berthier skidded to a halt, his chest heaving, and nodded briskly at Beaumont. "Is the First Consul inside?" he inquired, his voice edged with a sense of urgency that brooked no delay.
Beaumont quickly recognized Berthier despite his breathless appearance. He nodded, his demeanor respectful but tinged with curiosity.
"Yes, Your Excellency," he replied.
"I need to speak with him immediately," he declared.
Understanding the significance of Berthier's plea, Beaumont inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I will announce your arrival."
Beaumont approached the door, his hand poised to knock, but before his knuckles could connect with the wood, the door swung open.
The First Consul stood there, gazing at Berthier.
"I was wondering what's causing the noise," Napoleon said and continued. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Your Excellency," Berthier began, stepping forward. "I must speak with you about a matter of utmost urgency."
Napoleon's brow furrowed slightly as he regarded Berthier, his innate ability to discern the significance of situations coming into play. "Enter."
As Berthier entered, Napoleon's gaze flickered to Beaumont.
"Close the door, Beaumont," Napoleon commanded, and Beaumont promptly obeyed.
Berthier stood before Napoleon, his gaze steady despite the urgency that throbbed beneath the surface.
"Your Excellency," he began once more. "A situation has arisen that demands your immediate attention."
Napoleon's piercing gaze bore into Berthier.
"Explain," he demanded succinctly.
Berthier took a deep breath, his words tumbling forth in a rush of significance.
"Reports from our embassy in Copenhagen indicate a development in the Baltic. The British Baltic Fleet has engaged the Danish forces off the coast of Copenhagen."
Napoleon was unfazed by the news and simply hummed in acknowledgment.
"So the British have already begun their attack huh?"
"There's another thing, Your Excellency," Berthier continued. "The Kingdom of Denmark-Norway has expressed its intent to invoke the fifth article of our defensive alliance."
The fifth article of the defensive alliance is basically like NATO. An attack against one nation is considered an attack against all the member nations, compelling collective defense.
Napoleon's contemplative gaze shifted to a map on the wall as if envisioning the strategic implications of this development.
"Was it only the Danes they attacked or there is another?" Napoleon asked.
"Uhm…there is also another one, Your Excellency. The Kingdom of Sweden has reported that the British attacked their fleet at Helsingborg."
Napoleon rubbed his chin as he looked for the Helsingborg on the map. And seconds later, he found it.
"So they attacked Helsingborg so the British won't get encircled," Napoleon remarked. "How is the situation in the Baltic? Is it reported as well?"
"The Kingdom of Sweden's navy in the region has been defeated by the British, only the Danes are left fighting the British."
"How about the Prussians?" Napoleon inquired.
"No words from them, it seems like they are sitting this one out," Berthier answered.
"No surprises there," Napoleon mused. "They are the ones who were reluctant to sign an alliance with France."
"Indeed, Your Excellency. Their hesitation was apparent from the start."
Napoleon's gaze returned to the map. "Well, it doesn't matter anyways. The operation that the British conducted is not going to be a decisive one. They are trying to prevent it from falling on our hands. Let's just talk about different matters."
Napoleon returned to his seat, beckoning Berthier to do the same.
As they took their seats, Napoleon began. "So, Berthier. The misdirection operation. I was told that the British are receiving it surprisingly well. They are now fixated on the idea of us retaking Saint-Domingue with an expeditionary force to which the British will be ready to intercept. So while the Baltic Fleet of the United Kingdom is busy in the Baltic, it opens an opportunity for us to make a move. Send an immediate order to our Mediterranean and Atlantic Fleet."
"Will do, Your Excellency," Berthier said.
"What about the Corps commanders? Any progress on their ends?"
"They are heading towards Boulogne, Your Excellency," Berthier answered.
"Hmm…good. I can see the war ending very soon. In the meantime, send a message to the Kingdom of Denmark-Norway and Sweden. Write the words that I'm going to speak."
Berthier grabbed a pen and paper and beckoned Napoleon to start.
"I, Napoleon Bonaparte, the First Consul of the French Republic, have heard the news of the United Kingdom's aggression towards neutral countries in the Baltic Sea. It is clear that the British are attempting to disrupt the peace and stability of the region through their aggressive actions. I want to assure the Kingdom of Denmark-Norway and the Kingdom of Sweden that France stands by its commitments under the defensive alliance we share.
For that, the Republic of France is ready to support, in any way necessary, our allies in this critical moment. With solidarity, Napoleon Bonaparte, First Consul of the French Republic"
Napoleon concluded, and Berthier swiftly transcribed the words onto the paper. Once finished, he handed the document to Napoleon, who nodded approvingly.
"Very well, Berthier. Ensure that this message reaches both the Kingdom of Denmark-Norway and the Kingdom of Sweden without delay," Napoleon instructed.
***
Meanwhile, off the coast of Copenhagen.
The British Baltic Fleet loomed over the horizon. They have just defeated the Danish in the naval battle, their cannons still smoking from the exchange of fire. Admiral Parker, standing tall on the deck of his flagship, surveyed the scene with a sense of triumph. The Danish ships that had dared challenge the might of the Royal Navy now lay crippled or sinking in the cold waters.
"The battle took longer than I expected," Parker commented.
"Admiral, the port of Copenhagen is in range of our cannons. Should we commence bombardment?" asked Otway.
Admiral Parker studied the city for a moment before nodding his head. "Do it. It's time that we make an example to all neutral countries about what would happen if they ally themselves with France. Only target the naval stores, their ships, and shore batteries. Let them know the consequences of defying the British Crown."
Otway relayed the orders to the captains of the ships of the line, frigates, bomb vessels, and sloops. The British ships positioned themselves strategically, preparing to rain down a devastating barrage upon the Danish capital.
Minutes later, the British Navy unleashed a ferocious bombardment. The deafening roar of cannons reverberated across the water, shaking the city and sending plumes of smoke and debris into the air. The ships of the line unleashed their broadsides, while the frigates added their firepower to the onslaught. The bomb vessels fired mortars that arched high before descending with lethal accuracy.
From his vantage point on the flagship, Admiral Parker watched as the city's defenses were pounded relentlessly. Explosions rocked the harbor, and flames began to lick at the edges of the buildings. The Danish shore batteries responded in kind, firing back at the British ships. But were decimated when the British ships aimed at it.
The barrage lasted for over an hour. During those times, civilians fled their homes in terror, seeking refuge from the raining destruction.
"Cease fire!" Parker shouted and the bombardment came to an abrupt halt.
The smoke began to clear, revealing the extent of the destruction inflicted upon Copenhagen. The once-bustling port city now lay in ruins, its streets filled with debris and its buildings reduced to smoldering rubble. The plumes of smoke that had darkened the sky began to dissipate, revealing the aftermath of the brutal assault.
Admiral Parker's gaze remained fixed on the city he had just subjected to a relentless bombardment. He knew the message had been sent.
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