I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 107: Chapter 17: False Cooperation

Krupp was feigning weakness, but the glint in his eyes showed not a hint of submission.

"You’re too modest," Werner said. "The wall is just a temporary setback. With your abilities, you’ll adapt quickly."

"No, I can’t adapt anymore." Krupp shook his head. "These past three months have been hard on me. My old channels are gone—cut off or scattered. I can’t get goods from the West, and the Soviet Army isn’t as easy to deal with as before."

He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a handkerchief. "I’ve heard you have connections with the Soviet Army, a way with the border guards, and that you’ve recently developed a new sewer smuggling channel. Werner, to be able to do all that... you’re truly more capable than an old man like me."

Werner scoffed inwardly, but on the surface, he remained humble. "I do have a few ways in, but they’re all unstable connections. They could be cut off at any moment."

"Whether they’re stable or not doesn’t really matter." Krupp put his glasses back on. "What’s important is that you have a way, and I... I really need you to give me a hand."

’He finally said it.’ Werner raised his glass and took a slow sip.

"Werner, I came today to ask for your help." Krupp’s tone was sincere. "If possible, I’d like to borrow your channel to move some goods. Of course, this is business; I won’t ask you to help for free. You set the terms. Whatever you say about the split, I’ll agree to it."

Werner set down his glass. "Mr. Krupp, this channel of mine is very risky and the costs are high. Plus, I can’t move many goods each time. It’s not even enough for my own business."

"I understand." Krupp nodded. "That’s why I’m willing to offer a generous price. Werner, just name it."

"It’s not about the money," Werner said. "It’s a matter of volume. This channel can only handle a limited amount of cargo each time. If we move too much, it will attract attention, and then we’re all finished."

"Then could you spare a small portion of your current capacity for me?" Krupp’s tone grew more earnest. "Even a tiny bit would be enough. I’m not greedy. I just need enough to keep my business afloat."

Werner was silent for a long time, his fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop.

"Mr. Krupp, it’s not that I’m unwilling to help. But to be honest, the risk is too great."

"I completely understand," Krupp said. "That’s why you can name your conditions. I’ll accept them all."

Werner looked at Krupp and began to speak slowly. "If we’re really going to work together, I have a few conditions. First, you have to inform me one week in advance of each shipment so I can make arrangements. Second, I need to approve the type of goods; no contraband. Third, my men will be on-site to supervise the entire process to ensure security."

"Fine, absolutely fine." Krupp agreed quickly. "Your rules are the rules. What about the split?"

"The channel is mine, and I’m the one taking the risk," Werner said. "So, as is standard, I take the larger cut."

"How much?"

"Seventy percent."

Krupp’s fingers rapped sharply on the tabletop. It was the first time he had shown any emotional reaction.

But he quickly took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Seventy percent... Werner, you really know how to drive a bargain. But you’re right. This era truly belongs to your generation."

"Mr. Krupp, that’s the market rate," Werner said. "Since the wall went up, the channels for getting goods have become fewer and the risks greater. Seventy percent is a very fair price."

He paused. "Of course, if you don’t think it’s appropriate, we don’t have to work together."

The private room was quiet for a long time.

Krupp picked up his cigar, took a slow drag, and smoke swirled around his face. Finally, he exhaled and nodded. "Alright. Seventy percent it is. You’re right—in times like these, having a channel is everything. I suppose I should admit I’m getting old."

He said it nonchalantly, but his eyes were fixed on Werner, burning with resentment.

Werner extended his hand. "To a successful partnership, then."

Krupp shook his hand. "To a successful partnership."

"Next Wednesday at three p.m., have your men wait in the Lichtenberg District. I’ll inform you of the specific location."

"Alright." Krupp stood up and straightened his suit. "Werner, I hope our partnership goes smoothly. At my age, it’s about time I started looking for a successor."

"You’re still strong and healthy, Mr. Krupp. You could go on for many more years."

Krupp gave him a long, deep look, then pushed the door open and left.

Werner sat in his chair and lit a cigarette.

Every one of Krupp’s "I’m getting old" and "it’s time to step aside" phrases had been delivered with grace and composure.

But from start to finish, his eyes had been burning with the flames of resentment.

’That wily old fox. On the surface, he’s playing weak, but in reality, he’s still fighting back.’

But that was exactly what Werner wanted.

He needed Krupp to make a move, to reveal a flaw, and then he would take them all down in one fell swoop.

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

Over the next few weeks, Krupp transported several batches of goods through Werner’s "channel" as agreed.

For every shipment, Krupp’s men appeared at the designated location on time, and the goods were brought in smoothly.

Krupp didn’t break any rules or make any extra demands. Everything was done according to the rules Werner had set.

On the surface, everything was calm and smooth.

But Werner knew this was just the calm before the storm.

Some time later, Keller came to see Werner, his expression a little grim.

"Boss, Krupp’s people came to see me again," Keller said in a low voice. "They offered a higher price this time. They also said they could arrange a position for me on their side, to be his confidant."

"What did he want you to do?" Werner asked, his tone calm.

"They’re still trying to get information about the sewer route. You know, I’m the one who leads them through all the twists and turns in the sewers. Without a map, they can’t remember such a complex path. They want the specific route map, the municipal maintenance workers we contact, and the guard patrol schedules," Keller said.

"What did you say?"

"I managed to put them off again," Keller said. "But I have a feeling Krupp’s side won’t let this go. Boss, I’m worried he might—"

"I know." Werner nodded and exhaled a puff of smoke. "Keep stringing them along, but don’t reveal any substantial information. If they come again, just tell them you’re only a runner and you don’t know the specifics."

"Understood," Keller nodded.

After Keller left, Werner walked to the window and lit a cigarette.

Krupp was starting to bribe his men. That was to be expected.

’But that old fox must have other plans as well.’

Sure enough, the next afternoon, Werner received new information from the underground photo lab.

The owner of the photo lab was named Hagen, a balding man in his fifties.

Werner often sold developing agents to him. Werner’s supply came from a military factory and was much cheaper than the market price, so Hagen was a frequent customer.

When Hagen came to see Werner, he looked a little nervous.

"Werner, I have to tell you something," Hagen said in a low voice. "Someone came to my shop last night asking questions."

"Asking about what?"

"They were looking for someone who could forge photographs," Hagen said. "The man said he needed someone with good skills, who could create something indistinguishable from the real thing."

Werner narrowed his eyes. "What kind of person?"

"A man in his thirties, wearing a black overcoat. He spoke very politely, but he didn’t seem like an ordinary person," Hagen said. "He was very discreet in his questions, and the price he offered was high. I didn’t agree right away. I asked him what kind of photo he wanted made first."

"And then?"

"He took out a photograph." Hagen paused, looking Werner in the eyes. "It was a photo of you, Werner."