I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 237: Chapter 20: West Germany’s Countermeasure (Part 2)

Early the next morning, Werner went to Gunter’s office.

"Director, I need to make a trip to West Berlin," he said directly.

Gunter looked up, his gaze sharp. "Why?"

"There’s a problem with one of our channels." Werner had already prepared his story. "A contact of mine in West Germany has been acting abnormally recently. I suspect he might be under BND surveillance. I need to meet him in person to confirm the situation."

Gunter stared at him for a few seconds.

"Is this related to the Congo deal?"

"Possibly," Werner said. "Director, you know the Western intelligence agencies are always watching us. If this contact is really being watched, we have to cut ties in advance."

Gunter lit a cigarette and was silent for a moment.

"How long will you need?"

"One day," Werner said. "I’ll go over today and be back by tonight."

"Take Von Brown’s men with you," Gunter said. "It’s not safe to go alone."

"Director, taking Stasi men would only attract more attention," Werner said, shaking his head. "It’s normal for me to go to West Berlin for business, but if I bring bodyguards, the other party will get suspicious."

Gunter considered it for a moment, then finally nodded.

"Fine. I’ll write you a pass." He took a blank form from his drawer and started filling it out. "But remember, you must be back before 8 PM. If something happens, I can’t protect you."

"I understand."

An hour later, Werner, holding a pass stamped with the official Koko seal, drove to the border checkpoint.

Werner stopped his car in front of the eastern checkpoint and handed over his pass and identification.

"Koko?" the young Border Guard soldier asked, glancing at the documents.

"That’s right. Going to West Berlin to discuss procurement," Werner said.

The soldier went into the guard post to make a phone call. He came out a few minutes later and returned the documents.

"You can pass," he said. "Be back before 8 PM, or the pass will be void."

"Understood."

The barrier lifted, and Werner drove across the short stretch of no-man’s-land.

The distance from East Berlin to West Berlin was only a few hundred meters, yet it felt like crossing between two different worlds.

Werner parked his car outside a cafe in West Berlin, stepped into a public phone booth, and dialed Reynard’s number.

"It’s me," he said. "Meet me at the old spot in an hour."

"Werner? You’re in West Berlin?" Reynard’s voice was filled with surprise.

"Cut the crap and be on time," Werner said. "Bring all the documents related to me."

"What’s happened?"

"We’ll talk when we meet."

***********

An hour later, Werner met Reynard on a secluded path in Tiergarten Park.

Reynard was carrying a briefcase, and his face was grim.

Berlin was already cold in October, but his forehead was covered in sweat.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked the moment he saw him.

"The BND is onto the Congo deal," Werner said bluntly. "They’re investigating the flow of funds, and they might trace it to you."

Reynard’s face instantly turned pale.

"Fuck!" He glanced around and lowered his voice. "I knew something would go wrong! I knew it!"

"Don’t panic." Werner put a hand on his shoulder. "There’s still a way to fix this."

"What is it?"

"We cut all ties," Werner said, staring into his eyes. "From this moment on, none of the arms business between you and me ever happened. You’ve never touched the account in Switzerland. You never received that commission."

"But if the BND checks the accounts—"

"They won’t find anything," Werner cut him off. "I’ve arranged for someone to cook the books. All traces will point to someone else. What you need to do is destroy all the evidence—contracts, receipts, phone records, anything that can prove your involvement."

Reynard stared at Werner for a few seconds, then slowly nodded.

"What about my commission—"

"I’ll make it up to you," Werner said. "But not now. Once this blows over, I’ll compensate you in other ways."

Reynard opened his briefcase and took out all the documents inside.

"This is everything related to you," he said. "Contracts, receipts, bank transfer records, and some call logs."

Werner took the stack of documents and quickly flipped through them.

"I’ll take these." He stuffed the documents into his own bag. "I’ll destroy them all after I get back to East Berlin."

"There are also the phone records," Reynard said. "The call list for my office phone has your number on it."

"Find an excuse to get the phone company to delete the records," Werner said. "Bribe them, use connections, whatever it takes. The point is, the BND can’t be allowed to find those call logs."

"That’s—" Reynard hesitated. "That won’t be easy."

"It has to be done." Werner’s tone was severe. "Reynard, this is about our lives. If the BND confirms this, you’ll go to prison in West Germany, and I’ll be made a scapegoat in East Germany. Neither of us will get away."

Reynard swallowed hard and finally nodded.

"Alright. I’ll figure something out."

"One more thing." Werner looked at him. "From today on, if the BND questions you, tell them you don’t know me."

"What?"

"You don’t know me," Werner repeated. "We’ve never had any arms deals. You’re just an ordinary trader in West Germany, doing small business, with no connection to East Germany whatsoever."

Reynard looked at him, his expression complicated.

"Werner, if you do that, what if they really press the investigation—"

"They can’t," Werner said. "As long as you stick to the story that you don’t know me, the BND has no evidence. They can suspect all they want, but they can’t convict. West Germany is a country of laws; they can’t arrest someone without proof."

Reynard was silent for a long time before finally sighing.

"Alright. I’ll do as you say."

"Smart man." Werner patted his shoulder and pulled an envelope from his pocket. "There are ten thousand Marks in here as compensation. After this is over, I’ll introduce you to some big deals, safer and more profitable than arms trafficking."

Reynard took the envelope, opened it for a look, and nodded.

"Werner, you be careful," he said. "The BND is not to be trifled with."

"I know," Werner said. "That’s why we have to be flawless."

The two men parted ways and left the park.

Werner returned to his car and shoved the stack of documents under the seat.

He glanced at his watch—it was 4 PM.

’There’s still time to take care of one last thing.’

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

Werner drove to a bank in West Berlin and locked the documents Reynard had given him in a safe deposit box.

’These documents can’t be destroyed yet.’

’If something goes wrong in the future, these original documents will actually be my bargaining chip to save my own skin.’

After locking the safe deposit box, Werner glanced at his watch—it was 5:30 PM.

’Time to head back to East Berlin.’

He drove back to Checkpoint Charlie. The US Army soldiers on the west side merely glanced at his license plate and waved him through.

The really strict inspection was on the eastern side.

Werner stopped his car in front of the East German checkpoint and handed over his pass and identification.

A Border Guard soldier took the documents into the guard post to make a confirmation call, then motioned for Werner to get out of the car.

"Routine inspection," the soldier said. "Open the trunk."

Werner opened the trunk.

Inside were just a few procurement samples—coffee, chocolate, and lighters from West Germany, all normal goods.

The soldier searched through them and found no issues.

"You can go." He returned the documents to Werner.

Werner drove through the checkpoint and let out a long sigh of relief.

’The most dangerous part is over.’

He drove the car back to the Koko Building’s parking lot and went upstairs to Gunter’s office.

"You’re back?" Gunter looked up.

"I’m back, Director," Werner said. "The situation has been handled."

"What was the situation?"

"The contact was indeed being watched by the BND, but I’ve already cut all ties," Werner said. "It won’t affect us."

Gunter stared at him for a few seconds.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Werner nodded. "I’ll also leak some false intelligence to divert the BND’s attention elsewhere."

"Very good." Gunter lit a cigarette. "Werner, I trust you to get things done. But remember, the more critical the moment, the more careful you must be."

"I understand, Director."

Leaving the office, Werner finally allowed himself to relax.

’Now, all that’s left is to wait for Bruner to cook the books.’

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