I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 223: Chapter 6: A Tender Night

Hannas turned around.

He was a man of medium build with neatly combed hair, wearing a crisp gray suit, but his expression was grim.

"Comrade Werner, sit." Hannas gestured to a chair. His tone was polite, but his eyes were hostile.

Werner pulled out a chair and sat down.

Hannas sat down as well, took a file from his briefcase, and pushed it in front of Werner.

"What’s this?" Werner asked.

"The procurement report," Hannas said. "For the Dresden Optical Plant project you’re in charge of."

Werner opened the file and glanced through it. It was the report he had submitted last week; there was nothing wrong with it.

"What’s the problem?"

Hannas lit a cigarette, the smoke curling in front of his face. "I looked at your quoted price. It’s twenty percent lower than the market rate. How did you manage that?"

"Good channels," Werner said curtly.

"What channels?"

"Trade secret."

Hannas’s eyes narrowed. "Comrade Werner, there are no secrets when you work for Koko. Your channels must be reported to the organization."

Werner leaned back in his chair, sizing up Hannas. ’This guy is testing me, trying to figure out what I’m holding.’

"My channels have all been reported. They’re on file with Human Resources," Werner said. "If Comrade Hannas wants to see them, he can request access."

"I’m not asking to see your file." Hannas flicked his ash, his voice turning hard. "I’m reminding you that Koko has rules. You’re a newcomer. Don’t think that just because you’ve completed a few assignments, you can act like you’re above everyone else."

Werner smiled. "Comrade Hannas, I’m not acting like I’m above anyone. I’m just doing my job."

"Your job?" Hannas sneered. "Do you have any idea how much work you’ve snatched from others? The Special Procurement Department doesn’t belong to you alone."

"Those were assignments from Director Otto. I didn’t snatch them."

Hannas stood up, planting his hands on the table and leaning over to look down at Werner. "Kid, I’ve worked in the foreign trade department for ten years. I’ve seen plenty of people like you—parachuted in with powerful backing, thinking you can run the whole show. Let me tell you, powerful backing isn’t enough here."

Werner stood up too, looking Hannas straight in the eye. "Comrade Hannas, I respect your experience. However, if you have an issue with my work, you can report it to Director Otto, or to the Minister. I am prepared to be investigated by the organization at any time."

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds, the air thick with tension.

Finally, Hannas straightened up and snorted coldly. "You’d better be clean."

He collected his file and strode out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him.

Werner stood where he was, slowly letting out a breath. ’Hannas is getting antsy. This is good.’

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

The next day was Saturday. Werner didn’t go to Koko; instead, he went to Anna’s apartment.

Werner rang the doorbell, and Anna opened the door.

She was wearing a simple black sweater and pants, her hair hanging loosely, making her look much softer than usual.

"Come in." Anna stepped aside to let him pass.

The one-bedroom apartment wasn’t large, but it was very neat and tidy.

The living room bookshelf was filled with books, including Marx’s *Capital* and some works of Western literature. On the table sat half a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"Not bad taste," Werner said.

"Enough with the sweet talk." Anna poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to him. "Let’s get to business. Hamburg is taken care of."

She took several photos from a drawer and spread them out on the table.

The photos were black and white, and very clear.

The first showed Hannas in a café, meeting with a man. The two of them seemed to be discussing something.

The second showed Hannas accepting an envelope.

The third showed the two men shaking hands and parting ways.

"Who’s the man?" Werner asked.

"He’s from the Federal Intelligence Agency," Anna said. "Of course, he’s actually one of ours, but Hannas doesn’t know that."

"Nice work."

"And this." Anna produced a bank statement. "Hannas’s bank account in West Berlin. The account was opened five years ago, probably during his time in the foreign trade department. In the last three months, thirty-five thousand West German Marks have been deposited into it."

Werner whistled. "He managed to rake in that much in just three months?"

"Compared to his Koko salary and the scale of his projects, that number is highly unreasonable," Anna said. "And I checked his file from the foreign trade department. He was responsible for normal trade back then, and his books were clean. He only started his little schemes after coming to Koko, probably thinking the new department was chaotic and easy to exploit."

"Too clever for his own good," Werner said.

"This evidence is enough for the Stasi to open an investigation." Anna raised her glass and clinked it against Werner’s. "Von Brown is taking this case very seriously. Koko is a new department, and the Stasi wants to establish its authority here, to let those old bureaucrats transferred from other departments know this isn’t a place where they can get away with their usual tricks."

"When do they make their move?"

"Next Monday." Anna raised her glass and clinked it with Werner’s. "Von Brown will handle it personally. He’s placing great importance on this case. He wants to establish the Stasi’s authority within Koko."

Werner took a sip of whiskey, the fiery liquid sliding down his throat.

He looked at Hannas’s face in the photograph, feeling nothing.

In this East German game, everyone was walking a tightrope. A misstep meant an inevitable fall.

"Don’t you feel guilty?" Anna asked suddenly.

"About what?"

"Ruining a man." Anna tilted her head to look at him. "Hannas has a wife and kids."

Werner put down his glass. "If he were clean, I wouldn’t be able to ruin him."

"True enough." Anna smiled, a playful look in her eyes. "You’re becoming more and more cold-blooded."

"I learned from you."

"Is that so?" Anna stood up, walked over to Werner, and hooked his chin with her finger. "Then have you learned to take the initiative?"

Werner could feel her breath, warm and dangerous.

He didn’t pull back. Instead, he reached out, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her into his embrace.

Anna’s eyes lit up, and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile.

"It seems you have learned," she said in a low voice.

Werner kissed her.

Anna’s response was fierce. Her fingers ran through his hair as if trying to tear him apart.

The living room was dimly lit. Outside the window was the gray sky of East Berlin, and a Soviet song played on the radio.

The two of them stumbled into the bedroom.

The sheets were cold, but their body heat quickly warmed them.

Afterward, they lay side by side, covered by a thin blanket.

Anna lit a cigarette, the smoke drifting slowly upward in the darkness.

"You know," Anna said, "I hate being controlled."

"I know."

"But with you, I don’t feel controlled." Anna turned to look at him, her gaze serious. "We’re equals. You don’t try to change me, and I don’t try to change you."

Werner reached over, took her cigarette, and took a drag. "Isn’t that a good thing?"

"It’s great." Anna smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "It’s just a little dangerous."

"What’s dangerous?"

"I’m afraid I’ll get used to it."

Werner didn’t say anything.

He stared at the ceiling, a complex emotion welling up inside him.

They were both tightrope walkers, liable to fall at any moment. But at least for now, they were still together.

Anna sat up and stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. "Don’t think you can control me just because you slept with me."

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