I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 270: Chapter 53: Crimson Dawn

"Are you okay?" Werner asked.

"I’m fine." Erich shook his head. "It’s just... that person reminded me of Budapest. When I was captured back then, I was just as desperate, just as scared."

Werner didn’t reply.

The two of them walked out of the cemetery and into the Prague morning.

The sky had lightened, but the streets remained heavily guarded.

The Soviet Army had set up roadblocks at every intersection. Armored vehicles patrolled the streets, and the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and engine oil.

Werner glanced at his watch—it was 6:30 in the morning.

"What now?" Erich asked. "How do we get out of the city?"

"I have a car and a pass," Werner said. "But we have to bypass the main checkpoints and go through the suburbs."

"Then hurry," Erich urged. "I don’t want to stay here another second."

The two of them walked quickly toward the alley where the car was parked.

But just as they turned the corner, Werner suddenly stopped in his tracks.

At the intersection ahead, a squad of Soviet soldiers was inspecting a truck.

The soldiers were unloading all the cargo from the truck, checking it piece by piece.

The truck driver stood to the side, anxiously trying to explain something, but the Soviet officer wasn’t listening at all.

"Damn it," Erich cursed under his breath. "They’re conducting strict searches."

Werner frowned.

If they tried to drive out of the city now, they would likely face the same kind of inspection.

If the Soviet Army discovered the list on Erich, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"We need another way," Werner said.

"What way?"

Werner thought for a moment, then suddenly had an idea. "Follow me."

The two bypassed the intersection and entered an even narrower alley.

Werner led Erich through a maze of twists and turns, finally arriving in front of an old apartment building.

"What is this place?" Erich asked.

"One of my safe houses," Werner said, pushing the building door open. "I rented this place as a warehouse three years ago when I was doing business in Prague. It should still be usable."

The two went up to the third floor, where Werner took a key from his pocket and opened a door.

The room was filled with cardboard boxes and shelves, all covered in a thick layer of dust.

But Werner walked straight to a corner of the room, lifted an old blanket, and revealed a metal safe underneath.

He crouched down, entered the combination, and opened the safe.

Inside were several fake identification documents, some West German Marks, and a Soviet Army officer’s uniform.

Erich’s eyes lit up when he saw the uniform. "Are you planning to...?"

"Exactly." Werner picked up the uniform. "We’ll disguise ourselves as Soviet soldiers and drive straight out of the city."

"That’s too risky," Erich frowned. "If we’re exposed—"

"Then we won’t get exposed," Werner cut him off. "Prague is swarming with Warsaw Pact troops right now—Soviet, Polish, Hungarian. In the chaos, no one’s going to carefully inspect a Soviet officer’s papers."

Erich was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "All right. But you have to promise that if something goes wrong, we’ll get out of it alive."

"I promise," Werner said.

In reality, he didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

But at this moment, he had to act like a man who was sure of himself.

Because Erich needed that promise.

Because he needed it, too.

Werner slipped on the Soviet Army uniform and adjusted the collar tabs in the mirror.

The uniform was a bit old, but it fit well enough.

He tucked the manila envelope containing the list of reformists into an inner pocket and turned to look at Erich.

Erich had already changed into another Soviet soldier’s uniform, but his face was still pale, and beads of sweat kept forming on his forehead.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Werner asked.

"I have to." Erich took a deep breath and clenched his fists. "I survived Budapest. What’s Prague?"

Werner nodded and walked to the window to look at the street outside.

It was seven in the morning, and Prague was wide awake.

But it wasn’t a normal awakening—the streets were filled with tanks, armored vehicles, and patrolling soldiers.

"Let’s go." Werner turned and walked to the door. "We’ll use the chaos to our advantage and drive straight out of the city."

The two went downstairs and returned to the alley where the car was parked.

Werner jumped into the driver’s seat, and Erich got in on the passenger side.

The engine roared to life, and the car slowly pulled out of the alley.

The Soviet soldiers on the street just glanced casually at their uniforms before going back to their business.

Werner let out a sigh of relief. ’Looks like this disguise is working.’

The car drove for two blocks. Everything was going smoothly.

Then, Werner heard a sound coming from the distance.

It wasn’t the sound of tank engines or the roar of helicopters, but the shouting of a crowd.

"Damn it." Erich heard it too, his hand tightening on the door handle. "It’s a protest."

Werner slammed on the brakes, stopping the car at an intersection.

He leaned out to look ahead, and his heart sank.

On the main road ahead, a massive crowd was surging toward them.

There were thousands of people, maybe even tens of thousands.

They were holding Czech flags, shouting slogans, and marching toward Wenceslas Square.

"Soviets, get out!"

"Long live freedom!"

"Long live Dubcek!"

The noise was deafening, like an unstoppable flood.

And at the front of the crowd, a line of Soviet soldiers stood with their guns raised, blocking the road.

The lead officer was holding a megaphone, shouting something in Russian, but his voice was completely drowned out by the crowd.

"We have to turn back," Erich said nervously. "Quick, reverse."

Werner was about to reverse, but it was too late.

The crowd surged forward like a tide, instantly surrounding their car.

People pounded on the windows, waved flags at them, and shouted something in Czech. Werner couldn’t understand the words, but he could feel the anger and desperation.

"Fuck," Werner said, gripping the steering wheel. "We’re trapped."

Erich’s hand moved toward the gun at his waist. "If they find out we’re not real Soviet soldiers—"

"Don’t move," Werner said in a low voice. "Stay calm. Don’t give us away."

The crowd continued to advance, with the car trapped in the middle.

Werner could only move the car forward slowly with the crowd, praying that nothing would happen.

Then, gunshots rang out from ahead.

Not just one or two, but a rapid, dense volley.

The crowd instantly fell into a commotion.

Some people screamed, some ran back, and others dropped to the ground.

Through the windshield, Werner saw the Soviet soldiers ahead begin firing into the air—warning shots.

But the crowd didn’t disperse. Instead, more people surged forward.

Werner saw a young man rush to the very front and throw a rock at the Soviet soldiers.

The rock clanged loudly against a soldier’s helmet.

The soldier froze for a second, then raised his rifle and aimed at the young man.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!