I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 197: Chapter 107: Dancer on a Tightrope

Werner reached out and picked up the envelope, his fingers feeling the coarse texture of the paper. The envelope was thin, but at this moment, it felt as heavy as a stone.

"I will," he said, his voice a bit hoarse.

Vonke looked at him, his eyes holding neither blame nor disappointment, only a calm that saw through everything.

"Go on," he said with a wave of his hand. "What must be done, must be done. I don’t blame you."

Werner stood up and slipped the envelope into his inner pocket.

He paused at the door, wanting to say something, but in the end, he said nothing at all.

The door closed softly behind him, and the hallway fell silent once more.

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

At eight o’clock that evening, the venue changed to a private room at the "Song of the Workers" restaurant.

The private room was carpeted in deep red, with portraits of Lenin and Ublis hanging on the walls. The dining table was set with roasted pork, sauerkraut, and black bread, along with a bottle of vodka.

Von Brown was already seated.

"Werner." He pointed to the chair opposite him, his tone polite but not warm. "Have a seat."

Werner sat down, draping his coat over the back of the chair.

Von Brown poured him a glass of vodka and then one for himself, but he made no move to toast, merely placing the glass within reach.

"The intelligence you provided last month was very valuable," Von Brown said as he picked up his knife and fork, slowly and methodically slicing the pork on his plate. "It helped us catch three suspicious individuals, two of whom were indeed problematic. Director Schmidt mentioned it at the meeting."

"Just doing what I should," Werner said, raising his glass and taking a small sip.

"Just doing what you should," Von Brown repeated the words, lifting his gaze to glance at him. "But not everyone can perform at your level. Most of those people in the Black Market are short-sighted, only concerned with making money for themselves. People with your level of political awareness are rare."

He put the cut piece of meat into his mouth, chewed slowly, then set down his knife and fork and dabbed his lips with a napkin.

"However, Comrade Werner, what would you think if I told you that Comrade Vonke’s methods are somewhat outdated and don’t quite fit the current revolutionary situation?"

The air suddenly grew heavy. The only sound in the private room was the ticking of the wall clock.

Werner set his glass down and looked at Von Brown.

"Comrade Von Brown, I’m just an informant. I don’t understand these policy-level matters."

"Don’t understand?" A smile tugged at the corner of Von Brown’s mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "I think you understand everything. You didn’t get to your position in the Black Market today by not understanding things."

He put his glass down, leaned forward, and laced his fingers on the table.

"I’ll be direct, Werner. The department is undergoing a reorganization. Some cadres will be transferred from their original posts. This is an organizational decision that no one can change. In this process, some people will pick the right side, and some will pick the wrong one."

"You’re a smart man. You should know how to choose."

Werner raised his glass and pretended to take a sip, though the vodka barely touched his lips. He needed to stay sharp.

"I understand what you mean," he said, his tone steady. "I’m just a businessman. I’ll cooperate with whichever side needs me. Whatever the revolutionary cause requires, I’ll provide."

"Very good." Von Brown sat back up straight, picking up his knife and fork to continue cutting his meat. "That’s the right attitude. The revolutionary cause isn’t about personal feelings, only stances and principles."

He cut off another piece of meat and put it in his mouth, his chewing slow and deliberate, as if appraising Werner’s previous answer.

"Next month, there’s a batch of high-priority surveillance targets." Von Brown pulled a file from his briefcase and placed it in front of Werner. "The Director has put me in full charge. There are fifteen people on this list, all suspected dissidents. I need you to help keep an eye on them."

Werner picked up the list and glanced at it. Fifteen names, each followed by their profession and suspected crime. There were teachers, engineers, journalists, and even two low-level officials.

"These people have rather sensitive identities," Werner said. "Watching them might alarm other departments."

"So what if they’re alarmed?" Von Brown’s tone was filled with undisguised forcefulness. "This is a new situation; the old rules no longer apply. The Director said we must investigate who needs to be investigated and arrest who needs to be arrested."

He put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and then stared at Werner.

"Can you do it?"

"I’ll do my best."

"Trying your best isn’t enough." Von Brown’s gaze grew colder. "Comrade Werner, you need to understand something. A lot of people in the department are watching the informants’ performance right now. Those who can produce results will continue to work. Those who can’t, or whose attitude is a problem, will have their value reassessed."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"Do you understand what I mean?"

Werner nodded.

"I understand."

"Good." Von Brown picked up his glass, finally taking a sip this time. "Then that’s settled. Take the list back and study it. Report any progress immediately. Remember, this mission is crucial. It’s tied to the department’s entire strategy."

He stood up and straightened his uniform.

"You can leave when you’re finished eating. I have another meeting to attend."

Werner also rose, folding the list and tucking it into his pocket.

Von Brown had already picked up his coat and was heading for the door. At the doorway, he suddenly stopped and turned his head.

"Oh, and Werner."

"Yes?"

"Regarding Comrade Vonke," Von Brown’s tone was light, as if discussing something trivial, "if you’re still reporting to him, remember to be mindful of your limits. Not all intelligence is for everyone to know."

After saying this, he pushed the door open and left.

Werner was alone in the private room.

The roasted pork on the table had gone cold, and the vodka bottle was still more than half full. The wall clock pointed to 8:45 PM.

Werner sat back down in his chair and lit a cigarette.

Von Brown’s words had been perfectly clear.

Pick a side, or get out.

There was no third way.

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

Late that night, Werner returned to his apartment.

He took off his coat, pulled the envelope from his inner pocket, and placed it on the table. Then he took out the surveillance list Von Brown had given him and spread it out beside the envelope.

Two items, two choices.

Or rather, two paths to survival.

Werner lit a cigarette and stood by the window, looking out at the street below.

In the distance, the television tower blinked with red lights against the night sky. It was the tallest structure in East Berlin, a symbol of the city.

’What I have to do is make everyone think they are in command of me, when in fact, I am the one leading them all by the nose.’

’Vonke thinks I’ll be loyal for old times’ sake, that I’ll consider our past cooperation when it matters most.’

’Von Brown thinks I’ll flock to the new power, that for the sake of survival, I’ll completely side with Director Schmidt’s faction.’

’But they are both wrong.’

’All I want is to survive, and to live a better life.’

He picked up Vonke’s envelope and pulled out the list inside. A dozen or so names, all informants Vonke had protected. This list was Vonke’s last trump card, and also a sign of his final trust in Werner.

Werner read the list carefully, committed it to memory, then burned it with his lighter. The paper curled and blackened in the flame, finally turning to ash that drifted into the ashtray.

Next, he picked up Von Brown’s list and studied the names one by one. Fifteen people, each one a card to be played. The key was how to play them to satisfy both sides.

The answer was actually simple.

’Do Vonke an easy favor.’

’Warn the truly innocent people on the list in advance, letting them escape this disaster. That way, before his fall from grace, Vonke can still save a few people and cultivate an image as an "old cadre who is loyal and righteous."’

’Catch a few genuinely problematic individuals for Von Brown.’

’There must be a few people on the list who are truly engaged in underground activities. I’ll gather solid evidence against them and hand it over, letting Von Brown score a victory and earn a promotion. As for the rest, I’ll just say "the enemy was cunning and moved on before we could act."’

’Both sides will save face, and both will be satisfied with me.’

Werner stubbed out his cigarette, a cold smirk playing on his lips.

’This is a dance on a tightrope.’

’I can’t lean too far left, nor too far right.’

’I have to maintain a perfect balance until I find a place where I can truly land on my feet.’

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

「A few weeks later.」

Werner sat in the back seat of a black Volvo sedan. Outside the window were the buildings lining Under the Bodhi Tree Street—grand, post-war reconstructed facades that looked impressive, but whose plaster was already beginning to peel.

The driver was from the Stasi. He hadn’t said a word the entire way, simply driving to the address Von Brown had provided.

Werner felt a little puzzled.

Previously, when Von Brown wanted to talk, he would arrange to meet in a small tavern like the "Song of the Workers," where the noisy environment and the constant flow of people actually made them inconspicuous.

But this time was different. Von Brown had sent a car to pick him up directly, and the destination had changed.

’This means that whatever we’re discussing today is more important than ever before.’

The car stopped in front of an old building near Charlottenburg Palace.

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