I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 101: Chapter 11: The Stasi’s Undercover Agent

Werner’s fingers paused on the tabletop.

His expression remained unchanged, but inside, a tempest was raging.

He had recently been in contact with Joshua, that West German spy, and had also met with three politically sensitive individuals who wanted to escape. If the Stasi were onto him, the Church channels, his foreign trade contacts, and even Eva and Matthias would all be exposed.

"Boss?" Keller’s voice broke his train of thought.

"It’s nothing." Werner stood up and patted Keller’s shoulder. "You head back for now. Come to the warehouse tomorrow morning and help me take stock of the goods."

"Got it." Keller turned and left.

Werner waited until the sound of the truck’s engine faded into the distance before walking to the window and lighting a cigarette.

Smoke slowly rose in the dim warehouse. He narrowed his eyes and began to mentally sort through every possible way he could have been exposed.

’Vonke should be fine. I’ve been feeding him black market intelligence on schedule, so the Stasi see me as a useful tool.’

’Ivanov is a Soviet Army officer; the Stasi wouldn’t dare touch him.’

’Matthias is just a minor border guard. No one would pay him any mind.’

’Joshua... he’s a problem.’

’He’s a real Western Spy. If anyone found out I was supplying him, I’d be in serious trouble, no question about it.’

’The good thing is, Joshua himself is a well-trained intelligence officer with extensive counter-surveillance experience.’

’So far, our meetings have been clandestine. We haven’t come to the Stasi’s attention yet.’

’The biggest problem is Anna.’

Anna’s identity was highly suspicious. Werner even suspected she might be a Western Spy undercover within the Stasi, but he couldn’t be sure yet.

She claimed to be part of a pro-Western faction and needed materials from the West, but Werner felt that was likely just a cover story.

Lately, Anna seemed to have her sights on Werner, but her objective was unclear. This troubled Werner—Anna was a vulnerability that required extreme caution.

Then there was an even more troublesome issue—his contacts with the Church.

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

A faded notice was posted on the door of Saint Martin’s Church: "Charity Supplies Distribution, Friday at 2 PM."

Werner walked into the church, carrying a cardboard box full of medicine and canned goods.

The interior was dimly lit. A dozen or so shabbily dressed people, mostly the elderly and women, sat on the pews. The air was thick with the smell of damp mildew and burning candles.

Pastor Weber was standing by the altar, speaking in low tones with a middle-aged man wearing glasses.

Seeing Werner enter, he nodded, signaling for Werner to put the box in the side room.

Werner entered the side room. It was the Church’s storeroom. Dozens of cardboard boxes were stacked against the wall, all of them Western relief supplies brought in through the "humanitarian corridor."

This corridor was officially approved, jointly operated by the Red Cross and the Church to provide humanitarian aid to families in need in East Germany.

But Werner knew the corridor’s purpose was far from being that simple.

"Werner." Pastor Weber came in and closed the door. "Today’s supplies are very timely. Thank you for your help."

"Of course, Pastor," Werner said. "It is every Christian’s duty to help those in need."

Pastor Weber was silent for a moment, then lowered his voice. "Werner, I’d like to talk to you. Do you remember what I mentioned before? The Church has been helping some parishioners in difficulty."

Werner nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

"Now that the Berlin Wall is up, there are even more people who need help." Pastor Weber looked into Werner’s eyes. "Some of them are in the church right now. I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to meet them. See if you can help them." He paused. "And I also wanted to know if you’d be willing... to become more involved in this side of the Church’s work."

’I can finally get access to the people the Church has been holding—potential candidates for prisoner exchanges. I’m one step closer to my goal.’ Werner’s heart leaped.

But he maintained a look of appropriate hesitation. "Pastor, I’m just a businessman. But if it’s for humanitarian reasons, to help parishioners in need, I’m willing to do my part."

"I understand your reservations." Pastor Weber sighed in relief. "Are you willing to meet them? We can speak privately, right here in the church."

"Alright," Werner said. "But I have to make it clear beforehand, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to help."

"Understood." Pastor Weber opened the door. "Follow me."

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

The first person was a woman in her forties named Gerta Schulz.

She wore a faded dress, her hair tied in a loose bun at the back of her head, and her face was haggard.

"Mrs. Schulz, Pastor Weber said you needed help?" Werner asked.

"Yes." Gerta’s voice trembled slightly. "My husband went to West Berlin three days before the Berlin Wall was built. He said he was looking for work, and now he can’t come back. I have two children, the younger one is only five. I want to tell him we’re having a very hard time, and ask if he can find a way to bring us over."

"A letter like that... it would be censored if sent through normal channels," Werner said. "Do you know the consequences?"

"I know," Gerta said. "But I’m truly at my wit’s end. The rations are getting smaller and smaller, and the children are always hungry. I heard they have relief funds in the West, that single mothers can receive subsidies. If we could get over there..."

She choked up, unable to continue.

Werner was silent for a few seconds. "Mrs. Schulz, I can help you get the letter to West Berlin under the cover of the humanitarian corridor. But you must understand, this is only to pass on a message, not to organize an escape. I can’t do something that dangerous."

"I understand, I understand," Gerta said eagerly. "As long as he knows our situation, that’s enough. Please."

"Write the letter, seal it in an envelope, and don’t write anything sensitive," Werner said. "Come back to the church next Friday and give the letter to Pastor Weber. I’ll take care of it."

"Thank you, thank you so much." Gerta was on the verge of tears.

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

The second person was a young university lecturer named Thomas Lindman.

He wore a pair of black-framed glasses and a patched suit jacket, and he would occasionally push up his glasses as he spoke.

"Mr. Lindman, what help do you need?" Werner asked.

"I want to go to West Berlin," Thomas said bluntly. "I teach philosophy at Humboldt University, but I’ve had enough of this place. Every lecture has to be about a fixed ideology. We can’t teach Kant, we can’t teach Hegel, we can only read from a standardized textbook. This isn’t education, it’s brainwashing."

Werner heard the anger in his voice. "Mr. Lindman, do you know how dangerous it is to escape now? The Berlin Wall was just built, and the Border Guards have orders to shoot."

"I know," Thomas said. "But I also know that if I stay here, I’ll go mad. I’ve heard there are escape networks, using underground tunnels or forged documents. Can you put me in contact with these people?"

"I don’t know anyone like that," Werner said. "And something like that is too risky. I can’t help you."

"Then can you help me pass a message to a friend in West Berlin?" Thomas took a step back. "I have a university classmate over there who teaches at the Free University. I want him to ask around for me, to see if there’s a legal way to apply to go over. Like an academic exchange, or family reunification."

Werner thought for a moment. "That I can do. But the letter’s contents can’t be too sensitive. It has to be disguised as a normal academic inquiry."

"No problem," Thomas said, relieved. "I’ll be very discreet."

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

The third person was an engineer in his fifties named Erich Hoffman.

He was wearing dark gray work clothes, his hands stained with engine oil. He looked like he had just gotten off a shift at the factory.

"Mr. Hoffman, what do you need?" Werner asked.

"I want to send my daughter to the West," Erich’s voice was low and firm. "She’s eighteen this year. She was supposed to go to university, but she was rejected because of my problems."

"In this country, if your family background is no good, your children can forget about university. She’s so smart, her grades are so good, but in the end, she can only work in a factory."

Werner nodded.

He could hear the helplessness of a father in the man’s voice. "Mr. Hoffman, helping a minor cross the border is a serious crime. I can’t help you."

"She’s eighteen, she’s an adult," Erich said. "I’m not asking you to organize an escape. I just want to know if there’s a way for her to go to the West and live with relatives. My sister is in West Berlin. If my daughter could get there, my sister would take care of her."

"In this situation, applying for family reunification through official channels could take a very long time," Werner said.

"I can’t wait that long." Erich’s voice trembled. "I have a heart condition. The doctor said I have three years at most. I want to see my daughter have a good future before I die. Even if I can’t see her, just knowing she’s doing well in the West would be enough for me."

Werner was silent for a long time. "Mr. Hoffman, I can only use the Church’s humanitarian corridor to pass a message for you, to tell your sister about your situation and see if she can figure something out."

He paused. "As for your daughter... if she really wants to go, she has to make the decision herself and bear the risks herself. I’m just a messenger. I can’t help with or get involved in anything else."

"That’s enough. That’s more than enough," Erich said. "Thank you."

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

Werner met with four more people in the church.

There was a young mechanic who wanted to find work in West Berlin; a woman whose husband had been arrested, who wanted to take her child and flee to her parents’ home in the West; a pastor’s assistant persecuted for his religious beliefs; and a violinist who wanted to pursue advanced studies at a conservatory in West Germany.

Each person had their own story, and every story was filled with despair and hope.

Werner met with them one by one, taking note of each case.

He never explicitly promised to help them escape, only saying he could help them pass on information through the humanitarian corridor.

His words were cautious, leaving no leverage the Stasi could use against him.

But he knew what they were all thinking.

They wanted to escape. They wanted to leave this gray, oppressive, hopeless East Germany. And they thought that Werner might be the one who could help them.

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

That evening, as Werner was finishing his business at the church and preparing to leave, a system notification suddenly sounded in his mind.

[WARNING: A STASI UNDERCOVER AGENT IS AMONG THE PEOPLE YOU MET TODAY]

[TARGET: ERICH HOFFMAN]

[IDENTITY: STASI SECRET INFORMANT, CODENAME "ENGINEER"]

[MISSION: INFILTRATE UNDERGROUND ESCAPE NETWORKS, COLLECT LIST OF ESCAPEES]