I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 143: Chapter 53: Stasi’s White Glove

According to East Germany’s foreign exchange control laws, anyone privately purchasing valuable imported goods had to declare them to the state and pay high tariffs. Failure to report was considered smuggling and was punishable by three to seven years in prison.

Werner had Franz find a way to obtain photos of Mrs. Schwartz and a list of her purchases—a diamond necklace, a pair of gold earrings, and a Swiss watch, with a total value exceeding five thousand West German Marks. He then compiled this into a second report and submitted it to Von Brown.

This time, Von Brown’s reaction was even faster.

The very next afternoon, David was "invited for tea" by the Stasi. By that evening, he was formally detained.

Mrs. Schwartz was also summoned for questioning. Though she ultimately avoided prosecution thanks to her husband, Schwartz himself was demoted. He went from deputy director at the Ministry of Transport to stationmaster of a small train station, his political career permanently derailed.

Werner later heard from Anna that Von Brown had long wanted to install one of his own people in the Ministry of Transport, but Schwartz had been immovable in that position, backed by veteran officials. The smuggling case gave Von Brown the perfect opportunity. He seized it to topple Schwartz and push his own crony into the role.

This made Werner even more certain that the list Von Brown had given him wasn’t about cleaning up the Black Market at all. It was about eliminating political rivals and reshuffling the power structure in East Germany.

David, at least, was luckier than Hans Mueller. Since he was only a middleman and not directly involved in the smuggling, he was sentenced to two years of re-education through labor and sent to a farm in the suburbs to dig potatoes.

But for Werner, David’s fall from grace was valuable in its own way—his contacts in West Berlin were now essentially free agents.

Through Joshua, Werner indirectly contacted one of David’s cousins in West Berlin, a middle-aged man who ran a shop. The man had heard about David’s predicament and was worried his own revenue stream had just dried up. The moment Werner made his offer, he immediately agreed to cooperate.

And just like that, Werner secured another procurement channel to West Berlin.

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

In mid-November, Von Brown once again requested a meeting with Werner.

The meeting place this time was not his office on Normannen Street, but a high-end restaurant. Such establishments were rare in East Berlin, catering exclusively to high-ranking Party and government officials and foreign diplomats. Ordinary people couldn’t even get past the door.

The restaurant was near Alexanderplatz. Its exterior was unassuming, but the interior was elegantly appointed. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, oil paintings adorned the walls, and the tables were draped in snow-white cloths. The waitstaff wore crisp black uniforms, moving about in silence.

Von Brown was already waiting in a private room. He had changed out of his uniform and was wearing a dark gray suit, looking more like a successful businessman than a Stasi officer.

"Comrade Betelich, please sit." Von Brown smiled, gesturing for Werner to take a seat. "Let’s not talk about work today. Think of it as a friendly chat."

Werner was instantly on guard. ’When a man like Von Brown suddenly acts familiar, it’s never a good sign.’

But his face remained serene as he sat down across from Von Brown. "You’re too kind, Comrade Von Brown."

"Just call me Lainer." Von Brown poured Werner a glass of red wine. "It’s imported from Bulgaria. Quite good."

Werner accepted the glass and took a small sip. The wine was indeed good, far better than the sour stuff produced in East Germany.

"Werner," Von Brown said, also raising his glass and using his first name to foster a sense of familiarity, "you’ve done very well lately, exceeding my expectations. I reported the Hans Mueller and David Adler cases to my superiors, and the leadership was very pleased."

"I was only doing my duty," Werner said.

"No, it’s more than just doing your duty." Von Brown shook his head. "Many people who help the Stasi do so just to save their own skins, merely going through the motions. But you’re different. You have initiative, good judgment, and you know what intelligence is valuable. That kind of quality is rare."

He set down his glass, leaned forward, and fixed Werner with an intense gaze. "I have a proposal, and I’d like to hear your thoughts on it."

"I’m listening."

"I want you to be my ’white glove’ in the Black Market," Von Brown said bluntly. "The Stasi can’t manage the Black Market directly—it’s too much trouble and doesn’t suit our public image. But we can’t let it run rampant, either. We need someone to maintain order on our behalf, to clear out the disobedient thorns in our side, while leaving a path for those who are willing to comply."

He paused, his tone growing more earnest. "You’re the most suitable candidate. You have influence in the Black Market, you have your own people, and your network is extensive. Most importantly, you understand the rules. You know what you can touch and what you can’t."

Werner was silent for a few seconds before speaking slowly. "Comrade Von Brown—"

"Call me Lainer," Von Brown corrected.

"Very well, Lainer." Werner switched to the more familiar name. "I understand what you’re proposing. But I need to know: if I agree, what’s in it for me? And what will it cost me?"

Von Brown smiled, deeply satisfied. "What you’ll get, first and foremost, is protection. As long as you work for me, no one inside the Stasi will be able to touch you. Second, you’ll get resources funneled your way—I can give you the green light to make your business run more smoothly. Finally, an informational advantage—I’ll tell you in advance which policies are about to change, which ventures to pull back from, and which opportunities to seize."

"And what will it cost me?"

"Continue doing what you’re already doing," Von Brown said. "Keep an eye on the Black Market for me and report back regularly. If anyone threatens the security of East Germany or challenges our authority, you bring their information to me."

He raised his glass and lightly clinked it against Werner’s. "It’s that simple. You run your business, I do my job. We each get what we need and stay out of each other’s way."

Werner held his wine glass, not drinking immediately.

He was rapidly weighing the pros and cons in his head.

Von Brown’s proposal was tempting, but also incredibly dangerous.

Becoming the Stasi’s "white glove" meant being dragged even deeper into their power struggles. Von Brown could offer him protection, but he could also sacrifice him like a pawn whenever it became convenient.

But refusing was also a risk. Von Brown would certainly become suspicious. A Black Market operator turning down an olive branch from the Stasi was either a fool or had something to hide. Either way, it would only lead to closer scrutiny.

"Can I have some time to consider it?" Werner asked.

"There’s no need." Von Brown smiled. "I know you’ll accept. You’re a smart man, and a smart man knows how to make the right choice."

Werner looked into Von Brown’s eyes. Those pale blue eyes held a cold, predatory glint, like a hunter staring down its prey.