I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 183: Chapter 93: The Stasi’s Interrogation

Reynard helped Lucas into the car first, then walked back to Werner and said in a low voice, "I’m making contact with people about that matter you asked me to look into."

"Any leads?"

"It’s too soon, no concrete news yet." Reynard lit a cigarette. "But I’ve already passed the word through a few channels. A couple of agencies might be interested. These things take time, though. You can’t rush it."

"I understand." Werner glanced at Lucas in the car. "He’s a start."

"Right." Reynard clapped him on the shoulder. "The people in the West will remember what you’re doing. Stay in touch. I’ll let you know when I have news."

"Be careful," Werner warned. "They’re cracking down harder and harder in the East."

"You too." Reynard walked to his car.

They got into their respective cars.

Reynard’s sedan drove deeper into the city. Werner remained where he was for a few minutes, scanning the area for anyone suspicious before restarting his engine.

**************

On the drive back to East Berlin, Werner kept thinking about what Reynard had said.

’It was too soon. No leads yet.’

’That was to be expected.’

The agencies in West Germany were cautious. They wouldn’t easily trust a Black Market merchant from East Germany. But as long as Reynard was helping to pull the strings, there would be results sooner or later.

And Lucas was an excellent start.

A writer who had successfully escaped to West Germany, a soon-to-be-published book exposing the truth about East Germany—all of this would become Werner’s leverage.

At three in the afternoon, Werner passed through the checkpoint and returned to East Berlin.

The inspection went smoothly. The soldier on duty just gave his papers a routine glance before waving him through.

He drove into the warehouse, parked the car, and walked into his secret office. He poured himself a drink, sat by the window, and lit a cigarette.

Outside the window, the sky over East Berlin was a hazy gray, with factory smokestacks endlessly belching black smoke. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of the Berlin Wall, the gray barrier that sliced the city in two.

Werner took a deep drag from his cigarette, the close call at the checkpoint flashing through his mind. ’If that phone hadn’t rung, if the colonel had lifted the seat...’

He didn’t dare to think about it any further.

****************

「Two days later, at the Stasi office in the Neukölln District.」

Vonke sat behind his desk, a file spread open before him.

His expression was as dark as a thundercloud.

"Lucas Becker, thirty-five, writer, dissident." He stared at the file, his voice low. "Discovered missing on November 21. Our surveillance team reported that two days ago, they noticed the lights in his room weren’t on. They went in to check and found that he had already left."

The young agent sitting across from him kept his head down, not daring to speak.

Vonke looked up, glaring at the agent. "The two of you were watching him for how long, and you still let him slip away right under your noses?"

"I’m sorry, Comrade Vonke." Cold sweat beaded on the agent’s forehead.

"Do you have any idea what this means? A high-priority surveillance target has disappeared! He could be in West Berlin right now, being debriefed by West German intelligence, telling them everything he knows!"

"I... we..."

"Get out!" Vonke slammed the file on the desk. "Write a report. Five thousand words. On my desk tomorrow. And if Major von Braun asks, you can explain it to him yourself."

The agent fled the office as if he’d been granted a pardon.

Vonke lit a cigarette and took a long drag. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

’Von Brown.’

’That damned Von Brown.’

Although Vonke and Von Brown were both in the Stasi, they belonged to different factions.

The Lucas Becker case had originally been Vonke’s. He was the one who had assigned the surveillance team, but he was required to report to Von Brown.

Now that the man was gone, if Von Brown found out, he would surely seize the opportunity to make a huge fuss within the department, accusing Vonke’s team of incompetence and sloppy surveillance.

What was more troublesome was that Vonke knew Betelich had also been in contact with Lucas, and Betelich also seemed to have connections to Von Brown.

If he went to Von Brown to verify the details, it would be like handing him the ammunition himself. Von Brown would pin all the blame on Vonke.

Vonke rubbed his temples.

He had to first figure out exactly how much Betelich knew before deciding whether to report this up the chain.

He picked up the phone.

"Get me Betelich."

***************

At three in the afternoon, Werner was summoned to the Stasi office.

He had been mentally prepared; this day was bound to come sooner or later. But when he walked into Vonke’s office and saw that grim face, he couldn’t help the fact that his heart began to pound.

"Have a seat." Vonke pointed to the chair across from him.

Werner sat down and pulled out his cigarette case. "Mind if I do?"

"Be my guest."

Werner lit his cigarette, affecting a relaxed air. "Did you need me for something, Comrade Vonke?"

"Lucas Becker," Vonke said bluntly. "Do you know him?"

"I do," Werner answered without hesitation. "Major von Braun had me keeping an eye on him. I met with him once."

Vonke’s eyes narrowed. "When?"

"End of last month, I think. I don’t recall the exact date." Werner flicked his ash. "The Major gave me a list of five dissidents. Lucas was one of them. I was ordered to make contact and see what I could learn from him."

"Contact?" Vonke sneered. "What kind of contact?"

"Just a normal conversation." Werner shrugged. "I pretended to be interested in his work, went to his place to chat about literature, and took the opportunity to probe whether he had any plans to defect."

"And?"

"And then I found out he did indeed want to flee." Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke. "He asked me if I knew anyone who could get him forged papers, and said that if he got the chance, he was determined to go to West Berlin to publish his book. He also mentioned being in touch with some dissident friends and wanting to organize a reading group to discuss banned books. I reported all of it to Major von Braun."

Everything Werner said was true—he did regularly report on Lucas’s situation to Major von Braun, but he only ever gave him trivial information.

The reading groups, the discussions of banned books—these were all open secrets in East German literary circles, hardly important intelligence. But for Major von Braun, these "work results" were enough to report to his superiors.

Vonke stared at him for a long time. "You only met him once?"

"That’s right. The Major told me to keep my distance, so as not to spook him," Werner added. "I reported my observations to the Major every few days. He said he would let me know when the time was right to take further action."

Vonke’s expression darkened further.

Werner’s story was watertight—to verify it, Vonke would have to go to Major von Braun.

But there was no way Vonke would go to Major von Braun; that would be tantamount to admitting the failure of the surveillance operation to his rival.

"So, did you know he’s missing?" Vonke changed his angle of attack.

Werner feigned a look of surprise. "Missing? He fled?"

"Yes." Vonke stood up and walked around behind Werner. "How do you think he managed to escape?"

"Maybe he sensed he was under surveillance." Werner turned his head to look at Vonke. "The last time I went to see him, he was very wary, kept asking if I was with the Stasi. Maybe your men were watching him too closely and spooked him."

Vonke’s expression changed. "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing at all." Werner stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. "Comrade Vonke, I just run things on the Black Market. Major von Braun tells me to watch someone, so I watch them. Whether they run or how they run, I really have no idea. As for the Major’s arrangements, it’s not my place to ask."

Werner’s words were cleverly chosen—he both implied that Major von Braun might have other plans in motion and shifted the blame onto the surveillance team.

Vonke fell silent.

Werner knew he was weighing his options.

"Betelich, I’m warning you." Vonke walked back to his desk, his voice laced with menace. "If I find out you’re lying, you know the consequences."

"I understand," Werner nodded. "But, Comrade Vonke, there is one thing I’d like to say."

"Speak."

"Someone like Lucas, if they want to get away, they’ll always find a way." Werner looked Vonke in the eye. "Maybe he was already in contact with people from West Germany. Maybe he was hiding in some basement, just waiting for the right moment. You sent men to watch him, and he must have noticed, so he bolted ahead of schedule. You can’t blame me for that. I’m just a messenger. As for what plans Major von Braun might have, I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask him."

A vein throbbed in Vonke’s temple.

He knew exactly what Werner was implying: the blame lay with the surveillance team, with the poor coordination within the Stasi, not with Werner. And that final line—"You’d have to ask him"—was a blatant move to bring Major von Braun into the equation, forcing Vonke to either expose the failure by going to his rival for confirmation or drop the matter entirely.

"You can go," Vonke said with a wave of his hand. "But don’t leave East Berlin. I might have more questions for you."

"I’ll be waiting." Werner turned and walked toward the door.

"Betelich," Vonke called out.

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