I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 139: Chapter 49: Von Braun’s Mission

Werner’s heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained unchanged.

The Stasi knew far more than he had anticipated. This meant they had been watching him for a long time.

"You jest, Comrade Von Brown," Werner said calmly. "Those numbers might be a bit exaggerated. I just act as a middleman for some friends, make a little something for my trouble."

"Of course, of course." Von Brown closed the folder, his tone light. "I’m not trying to accuse you. On the contrary, I admire you."

He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to Werner. "You know, when I was studying in Moscow, my teacher taught us a saying—’The real enemies aren’t those who openly oppose us, but those who hide in the shadows, exploiting loopholes to undermine the system.’"

He turned back around, his sharp gaze fixed on Werner. "The Black Market is just such a loophole. It sabotages the planned economy, makes the people lose faith in socialism, and gives our Western enemies an opportunity to exploit."

Werner said nothing, simply watching him calmly.

"But," Von Brown’s tone shifted, "I also understand that the Black Market can’t be completely eliminated. As long as there’s demand, there will be supply. Forcibly cracking down will only drive it deeper underground, making it harder to control."

He walked back to his desk and sat down again. "Therefore, I need someone—someone with influence in the Black Market, who is also willing to cooperate with us."

"Cooperate?" Werner repeated the word.

"Yes, cooperate." Von Brown took out a piece of paper and pushed it in front of Werner. "There are a few names on here, all Black Market dealers we suspect of illegal smuggling. I want you to help us keep an eye on them—who they contact, where they get their goods, who they sell to, at what price. Report everything to me."

Werner looked down at the paper. Five names were listed on it, and he knew every single one:

Frank Master—originally Krupp’s second-in-command. After Krupp fell, he tried to strike out on his own.

Hans Mueller—a wily old hand who specialized in trafficking Soviet Army military supplies, a competitor of Ivanov.

Carl Schaefer—had connections at the docks, importing Western goods by sea.

Hannas Schmidt—ran a seemingly legitimate auto repair shop that was actually a front for modifying smuggling vehicles.

And David Adler—a Jewish middleman who specialized in connecting people with sources in West Berlin.

All five of them were his potential competitors.

Werner was silent for a few seconds, then he looked up. "If I help you monitor them, what do I get?"

Von Brown smiled, a very satisfied smile. "Smart people are so easy to communicate with. What you get, first of all, is security—as long as you cooperate with us, the Stasi won’t bother you. Second, convenience—I can issue you some ’special passes’ that will let you move freely in East Berlin without being constantly questioned by the police. And finally..."

He paused, his tone becoming suggestive. "If these people are taken down by us, their business will naturally be taken over by someone else. And you are clearly the most suitable person to take over."

Werner sneered inwardly.

’This isn’t cooperation, it’s him wanting me to be the Stasi’s cat’s paw—use me to eliminate my competitors, then once I have a monopoly, find an excuse to get rid of me too.’

But his face remained calm. "You have a point. However, I have a question."

"Speak."

"Some of these people have connections to the Soviet Army, and others have different backers. If I report them, won’t I be bringing trouble on myself?"

Von Brown stared at him for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. "Comrade Betelich, you’re certainly cautious. But rest assured, since I dared to give you this list, I’ve already made the necessary preparations. I’ve thoroughly investigated the ’protective umbrellas’ behind these people. When the time is right, they will all be dealt with together."

A thought stirred in Werner’s mind.

He instantly understood Von Brown’s true intentions—the man wasn’t trying to clean up the Black Market at all. He wanted to use the crackdown on the Black Market as a pretext to eliminate the "protective umbrellas" behind the dealers.

Those officials, Soviet Army officers, and border guard cadres—they were Von Brown’s real targets.

’This is an internal Stasi power struggle. Von Brown wants to install his own people in various government departments and eliminate the old guard who won’t obey him.’

’And I’m just a knife in his hand. A knife used to slit others’ throats, only to be discarded in the end.’

"I understand," Werner nodded. "So how much time do I have?"

"No rush, take your time." Von Brown took an envelope out of his drawer and pushed it over. "This is your ’operational fund’—five hundred Marks. You’ll receive this amount every month, as long as you provide valuable intelligence."

Werner took the envelope, felt its weight, and put it in his pocket.

"One more thing," said Von Brown. "From now on, you will report to me here once a week. The time won’t be fixed; I’ll notify you in advance. Remember, under no circumstances are you to let anyone know about our relationship. If anyone asks, just say you’re cooperating with the Stasi on a smuggling case."

"Understood."

"That’s all, then." Von Brown stood up and extended his hand. "A pleasure doing business with you, Comrade Betelich."

Werner shook his hand. Von Brown’s palm was cool and his grip wasn’t strong, but it was tight, as if asserting some kind of control.

"A pleasure, Comrade Von Brown."

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

By the time he walked out of Number 32 Normannen Street, it was already getting dark.

In December, night began to fall in East Berlin as early as four in the afternoon. The dim yellow streetlights shone on the wet cobblestone streets, reflecting patches of light.

Werner lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, the cold air rushing into his lungs along with the bitter taste of tobacco.

He didn’t leave right away. Instead, he stood on the street corner, pretending to wait for the tram while observing his surroundings.

Sure enough, two minutes later, he saw a man in a gray trench coat walk out of the cafe across the street and head in his direction. The man’s gaze flickered over him before he stopped about twenty meters away, pretending to read a newspaper.

A tail.

Werner scoffed.

’So much for Von Brown’s "pleasure doing business." The moment my back is turned, he has me followed.’

But this was also within his expectations.

He pretended not to have noticed anything. When the tram arrived, he squeezed on and stood by a window at the rear of the car.

The man in the gray trench coat also got on, standing near the front door, still holding his newspaper.

The tram lurched into motion. Outside the window, gray buildings flashed by, their walls painted with huge slogans: "The Victory of Socialism is Unstoppable!" "The Berlin Wall is a Guarantee of Peace!"

Werner stared out the window, his mind racing.

Von Brown’s list, which seemed to be a request to help monitor his competitors, was actually a test of his loyalty. If he really reported those people according to the list, he would completely expose his own network, allowing the Stasi to learn all his cards.

But if he didn’t cooperate, Von Brown would definitely become suspicious, and might even move against him directly.

It was a dilemma.