I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 294: Chapter 77: Anger Ascends the Throne

The meeting began with a few bureaucrats reading routine reports, followed by official-speak about "health reasons" and "work adjustments." Werner was growing drowsy until Anger stood up to speak.

"Comrades," Anger’s voice was low and powerful, "we are facing a new historical task. The international situation is changing rapidly. We must adjust our strategy, strengthen our solidarity with the Soviet Union, deepen economic reforms, and improve the people’s standard of living..."

Werner watched Anger on the stage, a faint smile gracing his lips.

’Those are fine-sounding words,’ he thought, ’but they only mean one thing—Ublis is out, Anger is in.’

The result of the vote was a foregone conclusion.

Anger was elected First Secretary of the Central Committee of the United Socialist Party of the German Democratic Republic.

Applause filled the conference hall. Werner clapped along, his eyes scanning the reactions of those around him.

Members of Ublis’s faction looked grim but dared not show it. Anger’s supporters were beaming, their eyes shining with excitement.

And then there were the many others—the fence-sitters—their faces plastered with sycophantic smiles, ready to pledge allegiance to a new master.

After the meeting adjourned, Werner didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he waited in the corridor.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Anger’s secretary approached him.

"Comrade Werner, the First Secretary would like to see you."

Werner followed the secretary into a small meeting room.

Anger was sitting at a table, reading a document. He looked up when Werner entered and broke into a smile.

"Comrade Werner, sit," Anger said, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

Werner sat down. Anger pushed a box of Cuban cigars toward him. "Try one. Just came in."

Werner took one and lit it. "Congratulations, Comrade First Secretary."

"Don’t be so formal," Anger said, lighting a cigar for himself and taking a deep drag. "Comrade Werner, you have made many contributions to the Party and the state over the years. I have seen all of Koko’s achievements with my own eyes."

"It is my duty," Werner replied.

"It’s more than that." Anger narrowed his eyes. "I also remember your support at a critical moment."

Anger put down his cigar and leaned forward. "Comrade Werner, I need capable men. Koko is too important to the country now; we rely on you for the several hundred million West German Marks in foreign currency each year. You will continue to serve as the Deputy Director of Koko, but from now on..." he paused, "from now on, I want you to report directly to me on all major Koko decisions. Chairman Gunter will, of course, still be responsible for overall management, but on key business matters, I need your input."

Werner’s heart skipped a beat.

He knew exactly what this meant. He was still the Deputy Director in name, but in reality, he now had a direct line to the very top. This was more valuable than any promotion.

"I understand," Werner nodded. "I will be accountable to you."

"Good." Anger stood up and extended his hand. "We will be working closely together from now on. The future of East Germany needs people like us."

Werner shook his hand. "For the Party and the state."

Anger clapped Werner on the shoulder.

"One more thing. The Ministry of Foreign Trade, the Planning Commission, the Ministry of Finance—from now on, these departments will prioritize Koko’s opinions on matters involving trade with the West. I will have a word with them."

Werner’s eyes lit up.

This was real power—not a promotion in rank, but an expansion of his authority over resource allocation. With this, his influence across various departments would multiply.

"Thank you for your trust," Werner said.

Stepping out of the conference room, Werner took a deep breath.

On the surface, he was still the Deputy Director of Koko. In reality, he had just become one of the core executors of Anger’s economic policy. That was far more useful than any title.

In the following weeks, a storm of purges swept through the East German political scene.

Ublis’s cronies were removed from key positions one by one. Some were reassigned to provincial posts, while others were forced into direct retirement.

Section Chief Klein from the Ministry of Foreign Trade was also on the chopping block—he had been too close to Ublis.

The day before Klein was to be investigated, Werner went to see him one last time.

"Werner," Klein said, sitting in his office with a pale face, "I’m finished."

"No, you’re not," Werner said. "At worst, you’ll be transferred to a local post. It won’t be a major problem."

"You don’t understand." Klein gave a bitter smile. "Ublis fell, so people like us are all going down. Anger won’t spare us."

Werner was silent for a few seconds. "If you need any help, just ask."

"What help could you possibly give?" Klein shook his head. "Werner, I don’t blame you. In this world, who doesn’t want to climb higher?"

Werner took out an envelope and placed it on the desk. "There are five thousand West German Marks in here. Take it, just in case."

"Werner, you..."

"Don’t say another word," Werner said, standing up. "Take care."

Walking out of Klein’s office, Werner lit a cigarette.

He knew his actions were futile—Klein’s political career was over. But at least he had given him a small measure of financial security.

Such was the cruelty of the power game.

Those who chose the right side soared to prominence; those who chose the wrong side were doomed beyond recovery.

And Werner, by knowing the course of history in advance, had successfully sided with the victor.

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

「September 3rd, 1971. East Berlin.」

Werner sat in his Koko office, flipping through the documents on his desk.

Suddenly, a system notification sound echoed in his mind.

[Historical Event Reminder: On September 3rd, 1971, the US, the Soviet Union, England, and France are about to sign the Four Power Agreement on Berlin. This agreement will guarantee free passage through the West Berlin corridors and improve traffic conditions between East and West Berlin.]

Werner put down the documents and lit a cigarette.

’The Four Power Agreement on Berlin.’ Of course he knew about this agreement.

Ever since the Berlin Wall went up in 1961, passage between East and West Berlin had been strictly controlled.

Ordinary East German citizens were forbidden from going to West Berlin. Only a very small number of people—like retirees or those with special permits—could apply for "family visit" visas.

Moreover, the application process was excruciatingly tedious, requiring multiple levels of approval, and most applications were rejected.

Even if you got a permit, you had to undergo a strict inspection when crossing. The Border Guard would rifle through your luggage and inspect every single item you carried, terrified you might be smuggling contraband or attempting to defect. The entire process was filled with tension and humiliation.

But after the Four Power Agreement was signed, things would be very different.

The agreement stipulated that West Berlin residents could visit East Berlin regularly, and East Germany had to simplify the family visit procedures and ensure the West Berlin corridors remained open. Though there would still be controls, it would be much more relaxed than the current situation.

For Werner, this meant a huge business opportunity.

With freer passage and relatively relaxed inspections, he could use this opportunity to transport large quantities of high-value goods—like Zeiss optical equipment and precision instruments.

These items fetched high prices on the Western market, and the quality of Zeiss products made in East Germany was world-class. If he could get them out, the profits would be staggering.

Werner picked up the phone and dialed Kurt’s number.

"Kurt, it’s me."

"Werner?" Kurt’s voice came from the other end. "What’s up?"

"I need a batch of Zeiss optical equipment," Werner said. "Cameras, binoculars, measuring instruments—the latest models, top quality."

"No problem," Kurt said readily. "How many?"

"Let’s start with fifty Contarex cameras, thirty binoculars, and twenty measuring instruments," Werner said. "Can you have them ready by next week?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "Werner, I’ll process this shipment under the guise of export samples, through Koko’s normal channels."

"Good," Werner said. "Thanks for your hard work."

"Don’t mention it," Kurt laughed. "Werner, you’ve helped our factory a lot over the years. This is nothing."

After hanging up, Werner dialed Keller’s number.

"Keller, there’s a job for you next week."

"Boss, what’s the job?"

"A batch of Zeiss equipment needs to be transported to West Berlin," Werner said. "Get a vehicle and your men ready. I’ll go through the checkpoint with you this time. After that, you’ll be on your own."

"Got it," Keller said. "Do we need to prepare any documents?"

"No," Werner laughed. "With me, you won’t need any documents."

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