I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 133: Chapter 43: Anna Is in Trouble

"Fine," Joshua finally relented. "Twelve hundred it is. But you have to guarantee they’re truly safe and well taken care of."

"You can come see them any time," Werner said. "I promise you, they’re living a hundred times better here than they were in prison."

Joshua thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I want to go see for myself."

That afternoon, Werner took Joshua to one of the safe houses.

Fritz was standing at the courtyard gate. He nodded when he saw Werner.

"How are things inside?" Werner asked.

"Everything’s fine," Fritz said. "They just finished lunch. They’re resting in their rooms now."

Werner led Joshua into the house. The living room was warm, the coal stove burning brightly. The air was filled with the aroma of stewed meat.

"Is Peter here?" Werner asked another of his men standing guard in the living room.

"Upstairs."

Werner took Joshua upstairs and knocked on a door.

"Come in," came Peter’s voice from inside.

Werner pushed the door open. Peter was sitting at a desk reading, a cup of coffee in his hand. He stood up when he saw Werner and Joshua.

"Peter, this is Mr. Schlotter," Werner introduced him. "He’s the one who’s been in contact with West Germany for you."

Peter’s eyes lit up. "Mr. Schlotter, Liesel... my wife, is she alright?"

"She’s doing very well," Joshua said. "She’s been waiting for you."

Tears welled up in Peter’s eyes again. "Thank you, thank you all..."

Watching Peter, Joshua breathed a sigh of relief. ’The man really does look to be in good shape.’ Although he was still thin, his complexion was much better than when he’d just gotten out of prison. The room was clean, and there was plenty of food.

"Are you doing alright here?" Joshua asked.

"Very well," Peter nodded. "I’m eating well and living comfortably. It’s just... I just don’t know when I’ll be able to see Liesel."

"Soon," Joshua said. "Just wait a little longer. You’ll be reunited soon."

Werner and Joshua went to see the others. Each person’s condition was about the same; they were all slowly recovering.

After leaving the safe house, Joshua said to Werner, "You’re doing good work."

"So that care fee isn’t too excessive, is it?" Werner smiled.

Joshua shook his head with a wry smile. "It’s not excessive. I’ll speak with the people in West Germany."

"Thank you," Werner said. "Oh, and there’s one more thing."

"What?"

"If this group gets to West Germany smoothly, I want to keep doing this," Werner said. "How many more people do you have on your end?"

"At least twenty more," Joshua said.

"Good." Werner nodded. "Once this batch is successfully across, we can talk about the next one. But the price might have to go up a bit next time."

"Why?"

"Because the risk is increasing," Werner said. "The Stasi have taken notice, so I have to be more careful. Plus, the cost of the safe houses is rising, and the guards’ wages need to go up too. All of that has to be factored in."

Joshua sighed. "Fine. We’ll talk about it when the time comes."

The following afternoon, Werner arrived at Saint Hedwig’s Church.

The church was quiet, with only a few elderly people praying. The light filtering through the stained-glass windows cast mottled shadows on the floor.

Father Weber was in his small office in the back, sorting through documents. When he saw Werner, he looked up and took off his reading glasses.

"Werner, sit." He pointed to the chair opposite him.

Werner sat down and took a document out of his briefcase. "Father, I’ve come to report on our progress."

Of the five people released, three were Joshua’s contacts. The other two were arranged through the Church.

Weber took the document and flipped it open. It listed two names, along with detailed information: release date, current status, health condition.

"They’ve all been brought out?" Weber asked.

"Yes," Werner nodded. "They’re all in safe houses now. They are recovering and in good condition."

"When can they be sent to West Berlin?"

"We still have to wait," Werner said. "The Ministry of Justice has already approved the release orders, but the exit permit approval will take time. It’s not a simple matter. It could be weeks, months, or even longer."

Weber put down the document and looked at Werner. "The Church in West Germany is getting anxious. They’re asking me why the men have been released but still can’t cross over."

"Father, that’s not something I can control," Werner said. "Release is one thing, but leaving the country is another. The East German Government has to approve their departure, and that requires going through many procedures. I can only wait."

"I understand." Weber nodded. "So where are these people living now?"

"In safe houses I’ve arranged," Werner said. "I’ve rented a few places in the Prenzlauer Berg District. They’re very secure. There are guards on duty 24 hours a day, and the food is excellent."

"And the costs?" Weber asked.

Werner took out another document and pushed it in front of Weber. "Here is the itemized bill."

Weber put on his reading glasses and examined it closely.

The bill was clearly itemized:

Rent: 150 East German Marks per house per month, 300 Marks total for two houses.

Food: 10 East German Marks per person per day, 600 Marks per month for two people.

Labor: Guard wages, 200 Marks per person per month, 400 Marks total for two guards.

Supplies: West German soap, toothpaste, toilet paper, coffee, etc., 800 Marks total.

Miscellaneous: Coal, utilities, greasing palms, etc., 500 Marks total.

Placement and Care Fee: 1,200 West German Marks per person per week, for a total of 9,600 West German Marks for two people for four weeks.

"Over nine thousand for one month of care fees?" Weber looked up, staring at Werner.

"Yes." Werner nodded, not shying away from his gaze.

"Werner." Weber’s voice was calm. "This price, isn’t it a bit..."

"A bit high?" Werner finished for him. "Father, I know what you’re thinking. But I’d like you to consider a few things."

"First, these people are safe now. They have a clean place to live, enough food to eat, and people to look after them. Have you ever been to a prison? Do you know what kind of life they lived there? Now they can finally live like human beings."

Weber nodded without a word.

"Second, the risk I’m taking," Werner continued. "These people have sensitive identities. The Stasi could start watching them, or me, at any moment. If something goes wrong, I won’t just lose money. I’ll go to prison, and I could even lose my life."

"Third, this is the market price," Werner said. "Private care facilities in West Berlin charge at least fifteen hundred West German Marks per week. And that’s just for standard care, not including security. Charging twelve hundred is more than fair."

Weber took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"You have a point," he finally said. "I just..."

"You just think I’m making too much money," Werner finished for him. "Father, I don’t deny it. I am indeed making money. A lot of it. But is there anything wrong with that?"

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the gray, hazy streets.

"In this world, some people are suffering in prison, and others are waiting anxiously in West Germany. What I do is connect them. I provide the channel, bear the risk, and solve the problems. Shouldn’t I be compensated for that?"

"And..." Werner turned around. "Father, think about it. Without me, where would these people be right now? Still suffering in prison, or released only to be homeless, liable to be arrested again at any moment. I’m the one who gave them hope, a reason to keep living."

Weber looked at Werner and sighed.

"You’re right," he said. "I shouldn’t have questioned you. You have truly helped these people, given them a new life. As for how much money you make from it... that’s a credit to your abilities."

He put his glasses back on and picked up a pen.

"I will report the progress to the Church in West Germany. I’ll also explain the costs truthfully. They will understand."

"Thank you, Father," Werner said. "There’s one more thing I need your help with."

"What is it?"

"Help me hurry along the exit permits," Werner said. "You have connections within the Church system, and the Church in West Germany is also communicating with the East German Government. If we can apply some pressure through the Church’s channels, things might move faster."

"I’ll try," Weber nodded. "But I can’t make any promises."

"Your word is enough for me," Werner said. "The longer these people stay with me, the more care fees West Germany will have to pay. I hope to send them on their way quickly. It’s better for everyone."

Weber looked at Werner, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

This young man was shrewd and very pragmatic. He knew how to make money and how to grow his business. But at the same time, he was genuinely helping people in need.

"Go, then," Weber said. "May God bless you, and may He bless those who are waiting."

Werner nodded and turned to leave the church.

Outside, the church bells rang, their sound echoing under the gray skies of East Berlin.

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

Stasi Berlin Division, Records Department.

Anna sat at her desk, her fingers stiffly gripping a fountain pen. The ink bled on the paper, but she didn’t notice.

The sound of footsteps outside the door grew closer.

She took a deep breath, shoved the unfinished report into a drawer, and locked it. Then she stood up and straightened her collar.

Her reflection in the mirror was expressionless, with only a hint of tension hidden in her eyes.

The door was pushed open.

Three men walked in. The one in the lead was Major Schmidt from Internal Affairs, a bald, middle-aged man whose face was perpetually fixed in an indifferent, businesslike expression. Behind him were two young Stasi officers, holding files and a search warrant.

"Anna Claus." Schmidt’s voice was flat. "Under orders from our superiors, we need to inspect your office and personal belongings. Please cooperate."