I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 157: Chapter 67: Settling the Endgame

Old Pete took the money and handed over two cartons of cigarettes. "Take these. By the way, tell the others that Boss Werner said what’s past is past. We’re all just trying to make a living."

"Really?" Old Mueller’s eyes lit up.

"Of course." Old Pete lowered his voice. "Boss Werner isn’t Walter. He does business by the book, none of that messy stuff. As long as you sell your goods honestly, everyone makes money."

News traveled fast. By noon, the downtown distributors Walter had won over were all coming back. They flocked to Werner’s various strongholds, scrambling to buy tobacco.

Potsdamer Platz, the Prenzlauer Berg District, even Friedrichstrasse... The same scene was playing out at all the downtown strongholds. Of the five thousand cartons of Danish tobacco Werner had shipped in from Rostock, three thousand were sold in a single day.

More importantly, the East District was also starting to waver.

A small-time distributor from the Lichtenberg District, originally one of Walter’s staunchest men, secretly came looking for Franz.

"Franz, Boss Werner... is he still taking people?" the distributor asked, wringing his hands, his eyes darting around.

"What, you’re not with Walter anymore?" Franz raised an eyebrow.

"Walter’s finished. His supply line’s cut, and his backer is gone." The distributor lowered his voice. "Besides, he owes us three months of our cut. He can’t even save himself now, so us small fry have to find a way to survive."

"Over in the East District, how many others want to come over?"

"At least half," the distributor said. "Everyone’s waiting to see what happens. If Boss Werner is willing to take us, a whole bunch of people will definitely come over."

Franz’s eyes narrowed. "Go back and tell them Boss Werner said we’re doing business in the East District, too. For anyone willing to cooperate, the rules are the same as downtown—a stable supply, fair prices, and a reasonable cut. But there’s one condition: you have to play by the rules. No cheating, no swindling."

"Understood, understood!" The distributor nodded repeatedly. "I’ll go spread the word!"

Standing in the textile factory warehouse, Franz watched as truck after truck of empty boxes returned, a huge grin spreading across his face. He burst into the office.

"Boss, they’re selling like crazy!" He was so excited he was babbling. "Three thousand cartons! We sold three thousand cartons in one day! And we’ve got feelers from the East District, people who want to work with us!"

Werner was sitting behind his desk, going over the accounts. Hearing Franz’s words, he looked up, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile.

"Have Carl order another five thousand cartons," he said. "We’ve secured downtown. Now it’s time to expand into the East District. With Walter gone, the East District is an open market."

"Got it!" Franz turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, right, Boss. About Walter... I hear he’s lost it."

"Lost it?" Werner put down his pen.

"Last night, he smashed up everything in his mistress’s place." Franz lowered his voice. "He was cursing up a storm, saying he was going to kill you. Scared his mistress right off. Now he’s holed up in some apartment with only three guys left."

Werner was silent for a few seconds. "Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him do anything stupid."

"Don’t worry, I’ve already got someone on it," Franz said. "Walter’s a joke now. He can’t make any more trouble."

While Werner was conquering the market, Walter was hiding in a dim apartment.

The apartment was in the Old Town on the outskirts of East Berlin. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the hallway reeked of piss and mold. Walter sat on a tattered sofa, a bottle of vodka on the table in front of him, already more than half empty.

"Damn it! Damn that Werner!" He lifted the bottle and took a hard swig. "I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna..."

"Boss, stop drinking," one of his men advised. "Any more and you’ll be drunk."

"Get lost!" Walter slapped him across the face. "I’m not drunk! I’m perfectly clear-headed!"

The man clutched his face, not daring to speak again.

"Hans, that son of a bitch. He was with me for over ten years, and he betrays me just like that!" Walter slammed the bottle on the table. "And those distributors, a pack of ungrateful bastards! I fought my way from the East District to downtown, finally got a foothold, and Werner just snatched it all away!"

"Boss, this isn’t the time for cursing," another henchman said cautiously. "The Stasi are looking for you. We need to figure something out..."

"Figure what out?" Walter sneered. "Sokolov is finished, Lorentz can’t even protect himself, who can I count on? That bastard Werner not only secured downtown, now he’s trying to devour my East District!"

He shot to his feet and began pacing back and forth in the cramped apartment.

"He deliberately stalled, deliberately baited me into a price war to drain my cash flow. Then, when I was weak, he struck with a single blow," Walter muttered to himself. ’A good move... a really good move...’

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

All three of them froze. Walter clutched the dagger at his waist, walked to the door, and asked in a low voice, "Who is it?"

"Keller," came a familiar voice from outside. "Boss Werner sent me."

Walter’s expression changed.

He exchanged a look with his two men, hesitating on whether to open the door.

"Boss Walter, I came alone," Keller’s voice was calm. "I’m just here to talk. Nothing else."

Walter gritted his teeth and finally opened the door.

Keller stood outside, wearing an old overcoat and carrying a bottle of liquor. He stepped into the apartment, looked around, and made a TSK sound.

"You’re alone?" Walter asked warily.

"Like I said, I’m just here to talk." Keller placed the bottle on the table and found a chair for himself. "Boss Walter, you’re aware of your current situation, aren’t you?"

Walter slowly sat down, but his hand never left the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

"Your supply line is gone, your backer has fallen, and your men have scattered." Keller lit a cigarette. "You’ve lost your territory downtown, and you can’t hold the East District either. The Stasi are looking for you on charges of smuggling Soviet Army supplies, bribing officials, and illegal possession of firearms. If you get caught, it’s ten years, minimum."

"So you came to laugh at me?" Walter sneered.

"No." Keller shook his head. "I’m here to offer you a way out."

Walter was stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Boss Werner said we’re all just trying to make a living; there’s no need to be ruthless." Keller exhaled a puff of smoke. "The Stasi has already closed the Sokolov case. You were just a subordinate, not the ringleader. If you’re willing to cooperate and voluntarily give up some details about Sokolov, the Stasi can go easy on you."

"Go easy on me?" Walter sneered. "I’d still have to do time, wouldn’t I?"

"Not necessarily." Keller flicked his ash. "If you’re willing to accept a settlement—get out of the Black Market, and give your warehouses and channels in the East District to Boss Werner—the Stasi can drop the matter. Boss Werner has that kind of pull. He has Vonke’s ear."

Walter shot to his feet, his face flushing red. "You want me to give everything in the East District to Werner? I’ve run that territory for twenty years!"

"Boss Walter, you don’t have a choice." Keller looked at him, his tone calm. "You’ve already lost downtown, and you can’t hold the East District. Half of your distributors are already in contact with us, and the rest will follow soon. Rather than get caught by the Stasi and have everything confiscated, it’s better to give it to Boss Werner. At least you’ll get some money and keep your freedom."

Walter stared at Keller, his chest heaving violently.

’He wanted to curse, to flip the table, to draw his dagger and cut down this damn messenger. But his reason told him that Keller was right. He had no choice.’

"If I agree..." Walter asked through gritted teeth, "what’s Werner’s price?"

"The three warehouses in the East District, ten thousand Marks. Contact information for over a dozen prime clients, three thousand Marks. Your channel intel in the Czech Republic, two thousand Marks. Fifteen thousand in total," Keller said.

"Fifteen thousand?" Walter sneered. "I’ve operated in the East District for twenty years. Forget everything else, those three warehouses alone are worth fifty thousand! This is robbery!"

"It’s a buyer’s market right now." Keller shrugged. "Boss Walter, your warehouses are already on the Stasi’s radar. They could be seized at any moment. Half of your distributors in the East District have already jumped ship, and the rest are waiting to see what happens. You can’t sell your goods, and your cash flow is gone. Fifteen thousand is the highest price Boss Werner is offering."

"And another thing..." Keller stood up and walked to the door. "Boss Werner said this price is only good for today. By tomorrow, all the distributors in the East District will have come over to our side. When that happens, your assets will be worthless."

Walter collapsed onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands. After a long while, he finally looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

"I agree," his voice was hoarse. "But I want to see Werner. I’ll make the deal with him in person."