I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 236: Chapter 19: West Germany’s Countermeasure

Gunter motioned for him to sit. "The shipment’s arrived. They’ve confirmed receipt in the Congo."

Werner breathed a sigh of relief. "Then the final payment—"

"That’s the problem," Weber said, pushing up his glasses. "They’re saying payment will be delayed a week."

"Why? The contract is clear: payment on delivery."

"I know." Gunter stubbed out his cigarette. "But they claim the funds from their Ministry of Finance haven’t been allocated yet. They need time for it to go through the system."

"They’re stalling," Schmidt said. "I’ve done business in Africa for ten years, and I’ve heard this excuse too many times. A lot of the time, delaying payment is just the prelude to not paying at all."

Werner’s anxiety flared up again.

Seven hundred thousand US Dollars.

If they couldn’t collect, the deal would be a massive loss.

"Do we still have anyone in Matadi?" he asked.

"We do," Schmidt said. "The liaison who accompanied the ship is still there, but the cargo has already been unloaded. It’s in the hands of the Congo Army."

"So that means we have no more leverage."

"Correct." Gunter stood up and began pacing the room. "They have the cargo, and they have the upper hand."

The office fell silent.

Werner’s mind raced.

"I have an idea," he said suddenly.

The other three men looked at him.

"What is it?" Gunter asked.

"Apply pressure," Werner said. "Through the Soviet embassy."

"Go on."

"This deal was brokered through the Soviet embassy, wasn’t it?" Werner looked at Gunter. "Then let the Soviets tell the Congolese government that if they don’t pay on time, they can forget about ever getting any more military aid from the socialist bloc."

"That could work." Gunter looked at Schmidt. "What do you think?"

"It’s worth a try," Schmidt nodded. "Congo is wracked with war right now; they can’t survive without Soviet support. If the Soviets give the order, they won’t dare refuse."

"Then that’s what we’ll do." Gunter made his decision. "Weber, you contact the Soviet embassy. Schmidt, you get in touch with our man in Matadi and have him keep a close eye on the Congolese Ministry of Defense. Werner—"

He looked at Werner.

"Good work. You’re the one with the quick mind when it counts."

Werner breathed a sigh of relief.

But he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.

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

Three days later, Weber called.

"The money’s here," he said, a smile in his voice. "Seven hundred thousand US Dollars, the full amount has been deposited."

"You’ve confirmed it?"

"Confirmed. The funds have been received in the Zurich account," Weber said. "Werner, we did it. One point two million US Dollars. This is Koko’s biggest deal of the year."

After hanging up the phone, Werner slumped into his chair.

The tension that had been building for two weeks finally dissipated.

’Success.’

’His first large-scale arms deal was a success.’

That night, Gunter treated the entire team to dinner at Koko’s private dining room.

It was an exclusive place, accessible only to Koko’s senior leadership.

The dining room served Western food—steak, red wine, chocolate cake—all delicacies that were hard to come by in East Berlin.

"To a successful deal," Gunter said, raising his glass.

The team toasted.

"And a special commendation for Comrade Werner." Gunter looked at him. "He proposed the right solution at a critical moment. This proves he’s not only capable of executing his mission, but also of handling emergencies."

Applause broke out.

Werner smiled humbly, but inwardly he was already calculating something else.

’How much did Koko actually make on this deal?’

’One point two million US Dollars in revenue, minus the cost of the weapons. Those Soviet-made arms were from the East German defense ministry’s surplus stock, so their cost was extremely low—probably no more than three hundred thousand US Dollars.’

’That meant a net profit of at least nine hundred thousand US Dollars, all in foreign currency.’

’Nine hundred thousand US Dollars in this era had far greater purchasing power than the same amount in the year he came from, 2025.’

’And this was just one deal.’

’If the conflict in Congo continued, there would be more orders to follow.’

Werner finally understood why Gunter had said that arms dealing was Koko’s most profitable business.

This wasn’t a business; it was a license to print money.

"Werner." Gunter came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come with me."

The two of them stepped out onto the balcony.

The night air was cool, carrying the salty tang of the Baltic Sea.

"Your commission for this is ten thousand US Dollars," Gunter said. "It’ll be wired to your offshore account."

"Thank you, Director."

"Don’t thank me." Gunter lit a cigarette. "You earned it. But I have to warn you, the missions are going to become more frequent, and more complex. The Congo is just the beginning. There’s also Angola, Mozambique, Yemen... The entire Third World is crying out for weapons."

"I understand."

"But you must remember," Gunter said, exhaling a plume of smoke, his gaze turning sharp, "this kind of business must be kept in the shadows. We’re earning foreign currency for the state, but it can never be acknowledged on the international stage. If something goes wrong, you’re on your own. No one will come for you."

A knot formed in Werner’s stomach.

It was both a warning and a reminder.

"I’ll be careful, Director."

"I hope so." Gunter put out his cigarette. "Go on back. Don’t keep the others waiting."

Werner turned to leave, but Gunter stopped him.

"By the way, Major von Braun asked me to tell you he was very pleased with your performance on this."

Werner nodded, but inwardly, he felt even more unsettled.

’Gunter is hinting that he knows about my private dealings with Von Brown.’

He returned to the dining room with a smile plastered on his face, but his mind was already plotting its next move.

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

A chill had already set in over East Berlin by October.

Werner, wrapped in an overcoat, stood at the door of the suburban villa, watching Anna’s car approach from the distance.

The look on Anna’s face when she got out of the car was grim.

She strode into the house and lit a cigarette without even taking off her coat.

"There’s a problem," she said.

Werner closed the door and came to stand before her. "What is it?"

"The BND," Anna said, taking a deep drag from her cigarette. "The West German Federal Intelligence Agency. They’ve discovered that East Germany is exporting arms to the Third World."

Werner’s heart skipped a beat.

"How did they find out?"

"That shipment to the Congo." Anna stubbed out her cigarette and immediately lit another. "The BND has an informant at Matadi Port. He took pictures of the unloading. The containers were labeled ’tractor parts,’ but they deduced something was off from the shipping methods and the size of the security detail."

"Are they sure the shipment was from East Germany?"

"No conclusive evidence yet." Anna walked over to the fireplace, the flames dancing on her face. "But the BND has already begun to investigate the money trail. They suspect a West German intermediary is involved, and they’re tracing the Swiss accounts."

Werner’s mind raced.

’Swiss accounts.’

’That was the weakest link in the entire chain.’

’If the BND follows the money back, they could find Reynard, and through him, all of his networks in West Germany.’

"How far have they gotten?" he asked.

"The shell company in Zurich," Anna said. "The BND has already requested an investigation warrant from the Swiss authorities to view the account’s transaction records."

"Will the Swiss agree?"

"It’s possible," Anna said, turning to face him. "Switzerland may be neutral, but it can be made to compromise under international pressure. Western nations are especially sensitive when it comes to arms smuggling."

Werner lit a cigarette and began to pace.

"How much time do we have?"

"Two weeks, max," Anna said. "In two weeks, the Swiss will respond to the BND. If they get those transaction records, they can follow the trail right back to you."

"Fuck," Werner swore.

This was his worst-case scenario.

In East Germany, he had the protection of Von Brown and Gunter.

But in West Germany, he was just a merchant surviving through back channels, with no one to protect him.

Once his identity was exposed, the BND would put him on a blacklist, and all his business dealings in West Germany would be ruined.

Worse, if the BND found out he was working for East Germany, they could leak the story to the press. Werner’s name would be mud internationally, which would create endless complications for his future plans to defect from East Germany and escape to the West.

On top of that, if he were discovered, Koko would be exposed, and Gunter would never forgive him.

"I need to sever all ties to this," Werner said, crushing out his cigarette. "Now."

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