I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 170: Chapter 80: Vogel’s Legal Framework

Kurt Meyer was a big man in his fifties with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a voice that boomed like thunder. He sat in the factory director’s office, a cup of coffee before him and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.

"You say you can get me cigarettes and chocolate?" He stared at Werner. "How much?"

"It depends on how much you want," Werner said. "For a hundred cartons or less, cigarettes are fifteen East German Marks per carton, and chocolate is eight Marks per bar. If you order more than a hundred cartons, the price for cigarettes can drop to thirteen Marks a carton."

Meyer sucked in a sharp breath. "Thirteen Marks a carton? Cigarettes from the state-run store are only five Marks!"

"How long do your workers have to queue for cigarettes from the state-run store?" Werner countered. "Besides, those are East German products. What I’m offering are West German goods. Marlboros, pure American tobacco."

"Marlboros?" Meyer narrowed his eyes. "That’s the good stuff."

"It’s not just cigarettes." Werner took a sample catalog from his bag. "Coffee, jeans, chocolate—I can get it all. The coffee is Nestle, thirty Marks a can. The jeans are Levi’s, eighty Marks a pair."

Meyer took the catalog and flipped through it, page by page. His expression shifted from suspicion to surprise, and finally, to greed.

"Can you really get all this?"

"My source is in West Germany," Werner said. "As long as you can pay, I can get you anything."

Meyer put down the catalog and lit a cigarette. "Have you heard of the New Economic System?"

"I’ve heard a little," Werner said, feigning indifference. "They say factories will be able to buy their own goods to reward workers?"

"It’s more than just rewarding workers." Meyer lowered his voice. "Our factory was selected as a pilot. The higher-ups said that we can keep twenty percent of the profits from our production value for discretionary spending. Twenty percent! Last year, our factory’s output was valued at one and a half million Marks. Twenty percent of that is three hundred thousand!"

Werner’s heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive. "So how do you plan to spend that money?"

"Of course I’ll use part of it to buy things to reward the workers!" Meyer said excitedly. "I want everyone in East Berlin to know there’s a future in working at our factory!"

"Then you’ve come to the right person," Werner said. "I can provide you with a complete solution. You tell me what you need, I’ll be responsible for procuring the goods, and you just have to worry about handing out the rewards."

Meyer stared at Werner for a few seconds. "What’s your commission?"

"No commission," Werner said. "I only make a profit on the price difference. You pay the market price, and I guarantee good products at a fair value."

"Why?"

"Because you’re my first customer," Werner said. "And I believe that if you’re satisfied, you’ll introduce me to other factories. Am I right?"

Meyer roared with laughter. "You’re a sharp one, kid! Alright, I’ll trust you this once. Get me fifty cases of coffee to start, to test the waters."

"No problem." Werner stood up and extended his hand. "A pleasure doing business with you."

Meyer grasped his hand and shook it firmly. "What’s your name?"

"Werner Betelich."

"Good. Comrade Betelich, I’ll remember you."

Walking out of the machine tool factory, Werner lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

’Fifty cases of coffee is just the beginning.’

’Once the reforms truly begin, once all the pilot factories get their money, once they discover that the state-run stores can’t possibly meet their supply needs, these factory directors will be lining up to find me.’

’And I’ve already locked down the supply source, established the transport channels, and secured the first batch of orders in advance.’

’When the winds of opportunity truly start to blow, I’ll be the one standing perfectly positioned to catch them.’

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

The March rain tapped softly against the church’s stained-glass windows.

Werner sat in the last pew, a hymnal in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on the man in the fifth row. It was Lawyer Vogel, speaking in hushed tones with Pastor Weber.

After the service ended, Werner didn’t leave immediately.

He waited as the others filed out of the church, until Vogel turned and walked toward him.

"Werner." Vogel extended his hand, and they shook. "Thanks for waiting. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. Is now a good time?"

"Of course." Werner checked his watch. "There’s a small restaurant nearby. The food isn’t great, but it’s quiet."

Ten minutes later, the two were seated in a small restaurant with only six tables.

A portrait of Ublis hung on the wall, next to a faded East German flag. The proprietress brought them two bowls of potato soup with a few slices of sausage floating in it, pools of grease swirling on the surface.

"There’s been progress on Hopter’s end," Vogel said, stirring his soup, his voice low. "He has an old classmate in the Ministry of Justice who’s now the Vice Minister’s secretary. Hopter used this connection to pass along the ’humanitarian release’ idea."

Werner put down his spoon. "What was the reaction?"

"Better than expected." Vogel looked up, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. "After reading the material, the Vice Minister didn’t reject it outright. Instead, he had his secretary arrange an internal discussion meeting. Hopter attended and even brought a few case files—all political prisoners with family in West Germany who weren’t considered serious offenders."

"And then?"

"Then the Vice Minister asked a crucial question." Vogel took a sip of soup. "He asked, if these people were released, how much would West Germany be willing to pay?"

Werner’s fingers tapped on the tabletop. "He asked about the price?"

"Yes." Vogel nodded. "That means they’re no longer discussing *if* they should do it, but *how* they should do it."

Werner leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. The sound of church bells drifted from a distance, low and slow.

"And it’s not just the Ministry of Justice," Vogel continued. "Hopter also contacted a few people in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of the Interior. At the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, a department head named Klaus Boelling is very interested in the idea. He said East Germany has a poor international image, and if they can improve it through ’humanitarian releases’ while also earning foreign currency, it’s a win-win."

"What about the Ministry of the Interior?"

"The Ministry of the Interior is more cautious," Vogel said. "They’re worried that releasing prisoners will be exploited by West German propaganda, making it look like East Germany is admitting defeat. But Hopter’s argument is that if it’s handled properly and packaged as ’socialist humanitarian concern,’ we can actually seize the moral high ground."

"By the way," Vogel asked, "how are the ones who have already been released?"

Werner put down his spoon and lowered his voice. "There are thirteen of them now, all waiting for their exit permits in a safe house I’ve arranged."

"Good." Vogel pulled a document from his briefcase. "Regarding the departure operation, there must be a complete operational framework. So I spent three weeks drafting this."

He pushed the document across the table to Werner.

The cover read: "Legal Opinion on the Procedures for the Release and Resettlement of Specific Persons Based on Humanitarian Considerations."

Werner opened the first page, and his eyes were met with dense legal text.

"This framework has two key points," Vogel said. "First, it makes the release criteria more lenient, so officials like Hopter don’t have to take on too much risk. As long as the conditions are met, they can be approved according to procedure, without needing backroom deals. Second, it clarifies the departure process after release, allowing these people to leave through official channels instead of being smuggled out. This greatly reduces our risk as well."

"I’ve considered all the potential legal issues," Vogel continued. "The first part is the release criteria—what kind of person can be considered for release. I’ve listed five points: One, has served more than half of their sentence. Two, the crime did not involve violence or espionage. Three, has relatives in West Germany willing to take them in. Four, the individual has expressed remorse. Five, their release will not pose a threat to national security."

"Those five points are quite broad," Werner said.

"They have to be." Vogel pushed up his glasses. "If the criteria are too strict, too few people can be released, and there’s less room to operate. But they can’t be too broad either, or the higher-ups won’t approve. These five points are the result of my careful balancing."

He turned to the second page. "The second part is the procedure. Who applies, who approves, which departments need to sign off, how long each step takes—it’s all clearly written out. This will prevent bureaucratic runaround and ensure someone is responsible at every stage. More importantly, with a clear procedure, people like Hopter won’t have to take such great risks."

"And the third part?"

"The pricing mechanism." Vogel lowered his voice. "This is the most sensitive part. I didn’t write down specific prices, as that would be too blatant. I wrote ’pricing principles’—a comprehensive assessment based on the released person’s age, health, education level, and the length of their sentence. In principle, the payment from West Germany should be sufficient to cover East Germany’s investment in their detention, education, and re-education, with a slight surplus."

Werner smiled. "I like the sound of ’a slight surplus’."

"It has to be written that way," Vogel said. "If we directly said ’selling people,’ the higher-ups would never approve. But by saying it ’covers costs with a slight surplus,’ it becomes a reasonable economic activity."

He flipped to the last page. "The fourth part is the confidentiality clause. The entire operation must be conducted low-key, with no external publicity. Internally, we call it a ’humanitarian release’; externally, we say nothing. Moreover, the current plan is for small-batch, secret operations, not a large-scale rollout. This avoids a propaganda offensive from West Germany and also prevents internal dissent within East Germany."

Werner closed the document and lit another cigarette.

’Small-batch, secret operations? That matches my memories from my past life. The large-scale trade of political prisoners didn’t really take off until 1964, when relations between East and West Germany had thawed a bit. But getting this started now is already a huge step. Once the door is open, the path will be clear. The rest is just a matter of time.’

"Who do you plan to give this to?" Werner asked.

"My friend at the Ministry of Justice," Vogel said. "He’ll pass it up the chain. If the leadership approves, they’ll convene a meeting with the relevant departments. By then, we’ll be halfway to success."

"And the other half?"

"The other half is the actual execution," Vogel said. "Even if the higher-ups approve it, there will be all sorts of problems during implementation. Who negotiates with West Germany? How is the money transferred? How are the people transported? All of these things will need someone to coordinate."

"What do you plan to do?"

"I’ve already thought it through," Vogel said. "If the framework is approved, I will volunteer to serve as a ’technical advisor,’ responsible for drafting the legal documents and supervising the procedures. That way, I can be involved in the entire process."

Werner looked at Vogel, nodding only after a long moment. "You’re very shrewd."

Vogel took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a handkerchief. "Betelich, I’ve been a lawyer in East Germany for fifteen years. I’ve seen too many complicated cases. An affair like this, involving multiple departments and various stages, would definitely end in chaos without a professional overseeing it."

He put his glasses back on, his gaze turning sharp. "And frankly, if this succeeds, it benefits all parties. Those political prisoners get to go home, West German families are reunited, and the East German Government earns foreign currency. As a lawyer, I can earn a reasonable fee from it, which is what I deserve."

Werner smiled. "You’re right."