I'm a Profiteer in Cold War Germany

Chapter 99: Chapter 9: Escape Route

"That’s right," Joshua said. "One behind the nightstand in Lucas’s place, one in a hidden compartment of the bookshelf in Alina’s, and Wolfgang’s phone has been tapped directly."

Werner placed the listening device back on the table and sat down in the chair. "The Stasi?"

"Who else could it be?" Joshua lit a cigarette and took a harsh drag. "The three people I introduced you to last time—they’re all under surveillance. Wolfgang’s situation is the worst. His phone line is tapped, and there’s a small hole drilled in his bedroom wall. Someone is definitely watching him with binoculars from the building across the street."

Werner didn’t respond. ’He was calculating the risks of this whole affair.’

’The last time he met them at Lucas’s place, Lucas had the radio on, just like now. It seemed he had a basic awareness of counter-surveillance, knowing to turn on the radio to create ambient noise and interfere with Stasi monitoring when discussing important matters.’

"Did you remove the bugs?"

"No." Joshua flicked his ash. "If I removed them, they’d know we found them. I just marked their locations and installed a jammer in the right spot."

He pointed to another small device on the table, which looked like an ordinary power plug.

"This thing emits a low-frequency noise that degrades the recording quality. The recordings the Stasi receive will be full of hissing and hard to make out. But it won’t be complete silence, so they won’t notice right away."

Werner picked up the "plug" and examined it. The casing was crudely made, but the concept was ingenious.

"You made this yourself?"

"Yeah. With those parts you got me last time." Joshua sat down, rubbing his temples tiredly. "But this is just a stopgap measure. The only truly safe approach is to not discuss any sensitive topics at home."

The sound of a passing car came from outside the window. Both men stopped talking at the same time, waiting for the sound to fade before continuing.

"So, you came to me because—"

"I need a safe place," Joshua said bluntly. "A place where they can talk. It can’t be a residence, and it can’t be a single, fixed location. It would be best to have multiple options."

Werner leaned back in his chair, his mind racing.

’This was a tall order. East Berlin was crawling with Stasi informants. A casual chat in any random place could attract attention.’

"What are the requirements?"

"First, it has to be discreet enough not to arouse suspicion." Joshua counted on his fingers. "Second, it needs to be easy to get in and out of without anyone remembering our faces. Third, there should preferably be a plausible reason for us to be there."

Werner mentally reviewed the resources at his disposal.

"I have a few places," he said. "But they won’t be cheap."

Joshua laughed, a bitter sort of smile. "I knew you’d say that. How much?"

"To provide a secure location, it’s 50 West German Marks per use. For regular checks and maintenance, 200 West German Marks a month."

"Deal," Joshua agreed quickly. "Also, I have other clients who need this kind of service. If we’re talking long-term cooperation, could the price—"

"A flat rate of 500 West German Marks per month for unlimited use," Werner cut him off. "But limited to a maximum of three locations, with no more than five people per meeting at each. Also, I’m only responsible for providing the place and ensuring its security. What you discuss, what you plan—I don’t want to know."

Joshua stared at Werner for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Fine."

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

Three days later, Werner took Joshua to the first safe house: a storage room behind an abandoned textile factory.

"Here?" Joshua asked in a low voice.

"The basement," Werner said, leading him through a courtyard filled with discarded equipment. "Officially, I’m renting it to store inventory."

The lock on the basement door had been replaced with a new one.

Werner took out a key and opened the door, revealing a room of about twenty square meters. The walls were mottled, and a single, dim bulb hung from the ceiling.

Joshua walked in, looked around, and shone his flashlight into the corners and at the ceiling.

"Not bad," he nodded. "Do many people come and go?"

"This building is abandoned. No one comes here," Werner said, pointing to a window. "You can get ventilation from there, but you’ll need to hang curtains."

"What about the key?"

"I have two. Here’s one for you." Werner took a key from his pocket and handed it over. "Let me go over the rules. Before you come in each time, make sure you weren’t followed. Don’t meet in the same location more than three times in a row. No more than five people per meeting. If you find this place is being watched, stop using it immediately."

Joshua pocketed the key. "Understood. What about the other places?"

"Pastor Weber’s place—the warehouse at Saint Joshua’s Church," Werner said. "The church has services and charity events every week, so a lot of different people come and go. You wouldn’t stand out. But you can only use it during those events. It’s too quiet at other times, which would be suspicious."

Joshua nodded thoughtfully. "That’s enough. If we rotate between a few places, the Stasi won’t be able to figure out our pattern even if they do find one."

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

A few days later, one evening, Joshua convened a meeting in the textile factory basement.

Werner arrived half an hour early to inspect the room and ensure everything was secure.

At seven o’clock sharp, Joshua came in with Lucas, Alina, and Wolfgang. The three of them looked very nervous. Alina’s hand gripped the strap of her handbag so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Have a seat." Joshua closed the door and drew the curtains. "It’s safe here."

"Have you figured it out? Can you help us leave?" Lucas asked, looking at Werner.

"There are two routes we can try," Werner said, sitting down at the table. "The first is through a border checkpoint. I have a contact there, but—"

"But what?" Wolfgang asked eagerly.

"The checkpoints only allow diplomatic personnel and Allied forces to pass. Ordinary East Germans are absolutely forbidden." Werner took a cigarette from his pocket and slowly lit it. "If you want to get through, your only option is to hide in a supply vehicle."

"Hide in a car?" Alina frowned.

"Yes." Werner exhaled a cloud of smoke. "But it’s not a simple matter. Over the past month or so, East Germans have tried all sorts of escape methods, and the Border Guards have gotten smarter. They use mirrors to check under the cars, poke the fuel tanks with probes, tap the car body to listen for hollow sounds, and even dismantle the seats. Just because I have a man on the inside doesn’t mean you can just waltz through."

The atmosphere in the room grew heavier. Lucas put his glasses back on, his voice low. "Then what do we do?"

Werner flicked his ash.

’He recalled some information he’d read in his previous life. Some people modified their vehicles, adding secret compartments to the chassis or even emptying the gas tank to create a hiding space. Some hid in large suitcases, others curled up in the cramped space under the dashboard.’

"The car would have to be modified," he said slowly. "We’d need to install a secret compartment in the body, or alter the fuel tank to make a space to hide someone. But that requires skill, time, and most importantly, the right kind of vehicle. And now, the Border Guards are learning every day. Each time they discover a new hiding method, they add a new targeted inspection."

"What kind of car do we need?" Joshua asked.

"An Allied or diplomatic vehicle would be best," Werner said. "The East German Border Guards are more hesitant with those cars, so the inspections are relatively less strict. But only relatively—they still do random checks, and if you’re discovered, the consequences are extremely severe."

"How severe?" Alina’s voice trembled slightly.

Werner looked at her and didn’t answer right away. After a few seconds, he said, "Immediate arrest, with a prison sentence of at least ten years. If they have to break the car open during the search, anyone hiding inside could be seriously injured, or even—"

He didn’t finish the sentence, but everyone understood.

Wolfgang buried his face in his hands. "My God."

"So this route is extremely high-risk," Werner continued. "And it requires a lot of preparation. First, we have to get the right vehicle, then find a reliable mechanic to modify it. We also have to choose the right time, the right checkpoint, and the right guard shift. A mistake in any one of these steps, and it’s a dead end."

"How long would it take?" Lucas asked.

"I don’t know. Maybe a few months, maybe longer." Werner paused. "And it’s very expensive. Modifying the vehicle would be at least five thousand West German Marks. Greasing palms would be another ten thousand, and that’s not including the cost of the car itself."

Silence fell over the room. Alina’s cigarette had burned down to the filter. She mechanically stubbed it out and lit another.

"What’s the second route?" Joshua asked, breaking the silence.