I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 150: Chapter 60: Stasi Factional Struggle

"Who is it?"

"Mark Lorenz. Same rank as Vonke, but not in the same faction."

Werner lit a cigarette. "Lorentz... I’ve never heard Vonke mention that name."

"Of course he wouldn’t." Anna looked around, and after confirming they were alone, continued, "The Stasi isn’t a single, solid block. Vonke is with Deputy Director Schmidt’s people, the Old Conservative Faction. They value rules and personal connections. Lorentz and Von Brown are both Director Herman’s men, the New Radical Faction. They value efficiency and results."

Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke, which quickly dissipated in the cold air. "Von Brown and Lorentz are in the same faction?"

"Nominally." A hint of sarcasm glinted in Anna’s eyes. "But they’re competing for Director Herman’s favor. Both of them want to climb the ladder, and both want to push the other down."

Werner leaned against the wall, his mind racing. "So Lorentz is targeting me to get at Vonke?"

"Smart." Anna nodded. "At an internal meeting last week, Lorentz publicly proposed to ’rectify order in the Black Market,’ saying that some informants were ’out of control’ and needed to be re-evaluated. He didn’t name names, but everyone knew who he was talking about."

"Me." Werner flicked his ash.

"Vonke immediately objected, stating that informant management falls within each agent’s jurisdiction." Anna lowered her voice. "But Director Herman backed Lorentz. Deputy Director Schmidt managed to protect Vonke, but it’s only a temporary delay. Werner, you’re running out of time."

Werner was silent for a few seconds, then threw his cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it with his foot. "Is Walter one of Lorentz’s men?"

"Yes," Anna said. "Lorentz wants to hit you to prove Vonke’s ’poor management,’ and take over your network in the process. Kill two birds with one stone."

"What about Von Brown?" Werner looked up. "Whose side is he on in this game?"

"Von Brown..." Anna hesitated. "He’s a smart man. He sees which way the wind is blowing. If Lorentz gains the upper hand, he’ll cooperate. But if he gets a chance to crush Lorentz, he won’t hesitate."

Werner nodded and said nothing more.

He sorted through the relationships in his head. Vonke and Lorentz were from rival factions. Von Brown and Lorentz were in the same faction but were competitors. Walter was Lorentz’s pawn. And he himself, ostensibly Vonke’s informant, was also Lorentz’s target.

But Lorentz didn’t know that Werner also had a connection to Von Brown.

However... although Von Brown had assured him that Werner was *his* man, Werner never fully trusted that assurance.

He was well aware that Von Brown was just using him—using his position in the Black Market, using the intelligence and access he could provide.

If he lost his influence in the Black Market and was no longer of value, Von Brown wouldn’t lift a finger to help him. Von Brown only supported those who could get back on their own feet and remain useful to him.

"Thanks." Werner turned to leave.

"Werner," Anna called out to him. "This time is different. Lorentz isn’t Vonke; he won’t give you any chances. If you don’t make the first move..."

"I know," Werner cut her off. "It’s either I devour Walter, or I get devoured."

Anna looked at him, her expression complex. "Be careful. In the Stasi’s game, the line between the chess piece and the player is very blurry."

Werner didn’t answer, pushing open the door and leaving the backyard.

When he returned to his office, Keller was still out gathering intelligence, leaving Werner alone. He took off his overcoat and sat down at his desk. Werner mentally reviewed the entire power structure.

At the very top was Director Herman, representing the New Radical Faction, in opposition to the Old Conservative Faction led by Deputy Director Schmidt.

Below them were Lorentz and Von Brown, both part of Herman’s faction but rivals with each other. Vonke, on the other hand, belonged to Schmidt’s faction.

As for the Black Market level, Walter was Lorentz’s man, while he himself was, on paper, Vonke’s informant.

Werner contemplated this web of relationships, beginning to deduce the motives and strategies of each party.

Lorentz’s intention was obvious: use Walter to strike at him, Werner, and in doing so, weaken Vonke’s influence in the Black Market. This would suppress the rival faction while also earning him credit with Herman.

’But what about Von Brown?’

Werner carefully considered Von Brown’s position.

Von Brown wanted to achieve something significant, to surpass Lorentz within their faction. This would require a case of sufficient weight—a case that would let him shine in front of Director Herman.

Suddenly, he understood.

If he could give Von Brown a big case, one big enough to make him look good to Director Herman and simultaneously crush Lorentz... Von Brown would definitely be tempted.

And that big case was Walter.

The scale of Walter’s smuggling with the Soviet Army far exceeded Ivanov’s, and its nature was much more serious.

If Von Brown could crack this case, it would prove he was more capable than Lorentz.

But the key was evidence.

To get Von Brown to make a move, he needed ironclad proof—evidence showing Walter’s smuggling operation was so massive that not even Lorentz and his Soviet Army contact could protect him.

Werner lit another cigarette. His gaze turned icy amidst the swirling smoke.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Werner stood up, straightened his clothes, and went to open it.

Outside stood a young Stasi officer in a neat uniform, his face expressionless.

"Werner Betelich?" the officer asked.

"That’s me."

"Comrade Vonke has instructed me to inform you to be at his office at nine o’clock tomorrow morning for routine questioning." The officer said, then turned and left.

Werner closed the door and leaned against it.

’Routine questioning... For Vonke to summon me at a time like this, it definitely wasn’t just routine questioning.’

The next morning, Werner arrived at the Stasi office on time.

Vonke’s office was on the third floor. Werner knocked and entered. Vonke was sitting behind his desk, reading a file. Seeing Werner, he looked up and pointed to the chair opposite him.

"Sit," Vonke said.

Werner sat. Vonke stood up, walked to the door, and closed it.

Then he walked over to the recording equipment on the wall and, with a CLICK, flipped the switch off.

"Lorentz is investigating your port business," Vonke said, turning around and getting straight to the point. "He has evidence that you’re smuggling large quantities of goods through Rostock."

Werner’s palms began to sweat, but his face remained impassive. "Comrade Vonke, I..."

"Spare me the nonsense," Vonke cut him off, walking back to his desk and sitting down. "I don’t care what you’ve done. What I care about is that Lorentz wants to use you to prove my management is poor."

Werner fell silent.

"It’s an internal Stasi rule." Vonke lit a cigarette. "When an informant causes trouble, the handling agent is held responsible. If Lorentz really gets something on you, I’ll be in trouble too."

"So, what you mean is, Comrade Vonke..." Werner asked tentatively.

"You have to strike first," Vonke said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Lorentz is coming after you to get to me. But if you can turn around and take a bite out of Walter, making trouble for one of Lorentz’s people, he won’t have the energy to bother with you."

Werner looked up, his eyes meeting Vonke’s. Neither man spoke, but the meaning was clear.

"I need time," Werner said.

"Two weeks." Vonke crushed out his cigarette. "In two weeks, Lorentz will formally submit his request for an investigation. By then, I won’t be able to stop it even if I wanted to."

Werner stood up. "I understand."

"Werner," Vonke called after him. "Don’t disappoint me."

Walking out of the Stasi office, Werner’s back was soaked with cold sweat.

He walked briskly toward the tram station, his mind racing. ’Two weeks... Time is tight.’

When he got back to the office, Keller was already waiting for him. Several handwritten reports were laid out on the desk.

"Boss, I found it," Keller said excitedly. "Walter’s goods aren’t bought from ordinary Czechoslovak merchants. He’s dealing directly with the Soviet Army."

Werner took the reports and scanned them quickly. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Keller nodded. "I talked to an old informant on the Black Market. He saw it with his own eyes. Late last Wednesday night, at that abandoned brewery in the Lichtenberg District, Soviet Army trucks were unloading cargo. Two big trucks, took them a full hour."

"What were they unloading?"

"Not just tobacco," Keller said in a low voice. "Tires, oil drums, canvas... all military supplies. My informant said the crates were all stamped with Soviet Army markings."

Werner placed the reports on the desk and began to pace around the office.

He thought of Ivanov—all he smuggled were some expired canned goods, surplus blankets, and leftover medical supplies, barely making any money each month. That was the sort of "gray income" the Soviet Army tacitly approved of, something they’d turn a blind eye to.

But Walter was different.

Truckloads of tobacco, tires, oil drums... This wasn’t "gray income," this was large-scale corruption. If the Soviet Army high command found out, every officer involved would face a court-martial.

Werner stopped pacing and looked at Keller. "Can you find out which specific Soviet Army officers are involved?"

"Difficult." Keller shook his head. "My informant can only ask around on the periphery; he can’t get inside the Soviet Army. But he said that to get his hands on this much cargo, the officer’s rank can’t be low. At least a major, maybe even a lieutenant colonel."

A sharp glint appeared in Werner’s eyes. The higher the rank, the greater the value—and the greater the danger.

"Keep watching that abandoned brewery," he said, his voice as cold as a blade. "Next time the Soviet Army trucks come to unload, take pictures, the clearer the better. And find a way to get the serial numbers off those crates."

"Got it." Keller stood up. "Boss, are we about to..."

"We’re about to pull off something big."

Keller’s eyes lit up for a moment before he nodded and turned to leave.

Werner sat alone in his office and lit a cigarette.

Outside the window, the gray sky of East Berlin was heavy and suffocating.

’Two weeks. Either I devour Walter, or I get devoured.’

’There is no third option.’