I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 189: Chapter 99: Here Comes Big Trouble

At 2:00 PM, Werner received a call from Reynard.

"The philosophy lecturer you sent over has arrived safely," Reynard said over the phone. "He’s a bit of a mess and smells like the sewer, but he’s in high spirits. I’ve already arranged a place for him to stay. I’ll help him get his identification papers tomorrow."

"Thank you." Werner breathed a sigh of relief.

"He did ask, though, if I could contact an editor at the *Frankfurt Allgemeine Zeitung*." Reynard chuckled. "Says he wants to write an article about the story of the East Berlin reading group."

"He can," Werner said. "Let him write it. It’ll be good for him, and for us."

"Understood." Reynard paused. "Betelich, how have things been on your end lately? I heard the Stasi are purging dissidents on a massive scale."

"It’s manageable," Werner said. "I can handle it. On your end, keep an eye out for me. Let me know if you find any suitable contacts."

"Will do. Take care."

After hanging up, Werner walked to the window and looked out at the street below.

On a winter afternoon in East Berlin, the sunlight was thin and the sky was a hazy gray. People on the street, bundled in thick overcoats, hurried past without a single glance toward the sky.

Werner remembered what Peter looked like last night—that scrawny young man, standing before the sewer entrance with a flashlight in hand, his eyes filled with both fear and determination.

’He’ll do well in West Berlin,’ Werner thought. ’He’ll write articles, he’ll speak out, he’ll become one of ’the ones who refuse to be silent’.

Werner stubbed out his cigarette and turned toward his desk.

Today, he had saved another person.

Even if it was for selfish reasons, at least the outcome was good.

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

Winter in East Berlin was as cold as an icebox.

Werner stood at the window of the harbor warehouse, watching the snowflakes drift down outside. A thin layer of ice had formed on the Spree River, where a few crows hopped about on the surface, searching for food.

The phone rang.

"Betelich." Von Brown’s voice came through the receiver, laced with a condescending glee. "I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel this morning. Come to the ’Song of the Workers’ restaurant at seven tonight. I have some work arrangements to discuss with you."

Werner’s hand tightened around the receiver. "Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. I’ll be there on time."

"Don’t be late." Von Brown hung up without another word, forgoing even the slightest pleasantry.

Werner put down the receiver, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag.

Von Brown had been promoted.

For Werner, this was both a good thing and a bad thing.

The good news was that his "protection" was stronger now; he had a higher-ranking backer within the Stasi. The bad news was that he was now tied even more tightly to Von Brown, and extricating himself would become increasingly difficult.

And then there was Von Brown’s attitude—treating him like a disposable tool, not even bothering to feign basic courtesy anymore.

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

At seven o’clock that evening, Werner arrived promptly at the "Song of the Workers" restaurant.

Von Brown was seated in a booth against the wall. A bottle of vodka and several dishes were already on the table—pickled cucumbers, smoked fish, black bread, and a plate of beef stew. When he saw Werner enter, he simply lifted his chin, gesturing for him to sit, not even bothering to stand up.

Werner sat down across from him, his gaze sweeping over the brand-new lieutenant colonel’s insignia on Von Brown’s shoulders.

"Lieutenant Colonel, congratulations on your promotion."

"Hmph." Von Brown poured himself a glass of vodka, took a sip, and only then poured half a glass for Werner. "Director Schmidt was very satisfied with the Marcus case and the materials from Monica. He said my efforts in purging dissidents have been highly effective."

Werner raised his glass. "It was all due to your excellent leadership."

"You deserve some credit," Von Brown said coolly. "Director Schmidt asked about you. Called you a ’valuable informant’."

Werner took a sip of vodka and didn’t reply.

"Director Schmidt summoned me this morning." Von Brown cut a piece of beef, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. "He said the dissident networks in East Germany are becoming more active, and West Germany is constantly infiltrating. The higher-ups are very concerned and have demanded a stronger crackdown."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Expand your intelligence network." Von Brown put down his knife and fork, finally looking Werner straight in the eye. "Intellectuals, the Church, cultural circles, and the Black Market—all need to be monitored more closely. Especially the Black Market. The Director believes it’s a crucial channel for dissidents to acquire supplies and pass information."

Werner’s heart sank. "Understood."

"Now that I’m a Lieutenant Colonel, I can offer you more protection." Von Brown poured another glass of vodka. "But you should be clear about one thing: that protection isn’t free. My expectations of you are higher now, too. Don’t disappoint me."

It was a command, not a discussion.

Werner nodded. "Don’t worry, Lieutenant Colonel. I’ve always been on your side."

"Good." Von Brown offered a business-like smile. "Keep drinking."

For the rest of the meal, Von Brown did most of the talking, going on about his plans for the future, how highly Director Schmidt regarded him, and how he intended to expand his influence. Werner only chimed in occasionally, mostly just listening to his orders.

Werner finished his last glass of vodka and took his leave.

Stepping out of the restaurant, a cold wind hit him in the face. Werner shivered and pulled his overcoat tighter.

The snow was still falling, covering the street in a thin white layer. Werner’s footprints left a trail in the snow, only to be quickly covered by freshly fallen flakes.

He was now tied securely to Von Brown’s war chariot.

The higher Von Brown rose, the stronger his dependence on and control over Werner would become.

But at the same time, Von Brown’s attitude toward him grew more and more arrogant, treating him increasingly like a tool to be used at will.

It was a dead end.

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

「A few months later.」

Werner was in the warehouse inspecting a newly arrived shipment of goods when Franz suddenly burst in, a newspaper in his hand.

"Boss, something big has happened!"

Werner took the newspaper. It was a copy of the West German magazine *Der Spiegel*. The front-page headline, in bold letters, read: "East German Author’s Daring Escape to Expose the Truth Behind the Berlin Wall."

The subtitle read: "Lucas Becker’s New Work, *A Gray Life*, Published in West Germany, Shakes the Literary World."

Werner’s heart skipped a beat.

He quickly flipped through the newspaper and saw the detailed report on the book.

*A Gray Life* told the stories of ordinary people in East Berlin before and after the construction of the Wall—of families forcibly separated, of escapees who died at the foot of the Wall, of people struggling to survive under oppression.

The report also included an interview with Lucas.

The gaunt author sat in a West Berlin café, wearing thick glasses, recounting how he had finished the book under Stasi surveillance and then risked everything to escape to West Berlin.

"I can’t disclose the specific details of my escape, as that would endanger the people who helped me," Lucas said in the interview. "But I want to thank those who, even in the darkness, held onto their conscience. Without them, I wouldn’t have made it out alive, and this book would never have seen the light of day."

Werner set the newspaper on the table and lit a cigarette.

"Where did this come from?"

"People on the Black Market are passing it around," Franz said in a low voice. "They say it was smuggled in from West Berlin. Boss, is this going to cause trouble?"

"It will," Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Big trouble."

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

Sure enough, two days later, the official East German state media, the *New German Newspaper*, published a front-page article with the headline: "The Lies of the Traitor Lucas Becker."

The article called Lucas a "traitor to the people," claiming his book was full of "slander and distortion" and was a "tool of Western imperialist, anti-Soviet propaganda." The article also announced that the Stasi would launch a full-scale investigation into how Lucas escaped and whether he had any accomplices.

That afternoon, Werner received a call from Von Brown.

"Betelich, get to my office immediately." Von Brown’s voice was ice-cold. "Now."

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