Chapter 196 - 106: Vonke’s End of the Line

Chapter 196: Chapter 106: Vonke’s End of the Line

The door closed.

Erich was alone in the darkroom again.

He looked at the photos in his camera: a mother and son, their smiles tinged with tears but full of hope. These pictures would be their ticket to West Germany, and perhaps the start of their new life.

Erich remembered how he felt when he photographed the Berlin Wall.

Back then, he had wanted to use his photos to document suffering, to awaken the numb. But now he felt that sometimes, helping one person escape their suffering was more meaningful than documenting the suffering of a thousand.

He opened the envelope with his payment and counted the money. Three hundred Marks—enough for him and his mother to afford meat and milk for a month.

But that wasn’t why he did it.

He did it because he believed everyone should have the right to choose their own life. Even if the state didn’t recognize that right, and even if he had to take risks for it.

Under the red safelight, Erich lit a cigarette and watched the photos develop.

One by one, faces emerged from the chemical bath, each with a different expression, a different hope, but all pointing in the same direction—freedom.

"Maybe I can’t change the world," he muttered to the empty room. "But at least I can change the fate of a few. That’s enough."

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

At two in the morning, the lights at the Workers’ House tavern near Alexanderplatz were long since out. Werner slipped in through the back door, crossed the storeroom piled high with empty bottles, and pushed open the wooden door to the basement.

Anna was already waiting for him there.

She was wearing a gray trench coat, her hair tied back casually in a ponytail. A single bare bulb in the basement cast her face in shifting light and shadow.

"You’re five minutes late," Anna said.

"Ran into a patrol," Werner said, draping his coat over the back of a chair. "What’s so urgent?"

Anna didn’t answer. She pulled a manila envelope from the inner pocket of her trench coat and tossed it onto the table.

"Open it."

Werner tore open the envelope and pulled out the typewritten pages inside.

The title read "Notice Regarding the Strengthening of Internal Disciplinary Rectification," and it was signed by Director Schmidt.

He scanned the contents, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

"A purge of the conservatives?" he asked, looking up. "Is the date set?"

"Mid-March," Anna said. "The list is still being drawn up, but Vonke is one hundred percent on it. The higher-ups find his old-school cadre type to be an eyesore these days."

Werner put the document back on the table and sat down. The basement was cold, and his breath condensed into white plumes in the air.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you’re in too deep with Vonke," Anna said. "From last year to now, the intel you’ve given him has earned him credit at least five times. Everyone in the Stasi knows Vonke has an extremely resourceful informant."

"That’s just normal informant work."

"Normal?" Anna sneered. "Werner, cut the act. Vonke gives you cover in the Black Market, and you use the Stasi’s name to scare off petty crooks. Your little quid pro quo is an open secret within the Stasi."

Werner was silent for a few seconds. "So what you’re saying is, I have to pick a side?"

"It’s not what *I’m* saying; it’s the situation forcing you to. Once the purge begins, all informants with close ties to the conservatives will be re-evaluated. You have two choices now: either draw a clear line with Vonke and throw in your lot completely with Von Brown, or stay tied to Vonke and wait to go down with him."

"And if I do nothing?"

"Then you’re gambling," Anna said, looking him straight in the eye. "Gambling that Vonke can survive this round, or that Von Brown won’t settle scores later. How do you like those odds?"

Werner didn’t answer.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, stuck one in his mouth, and lit it with a match Anna offered. The harsh sting of nicotine hit the back of his throat, clearing his head a little.

"What’s Von Brown’s attitude?" he asked.

"He’s desperate for talent." A sarcastic curve played on Anna’s lips. "He’s currently trying to win over Vonke’s informants, and his offers are very generous. He was very pleased with the intel you provided him those few times. He just hasn’t made your identity public yet."

From outside, the distant sound of a train whistle echoed through the night, its long wail trailing off.

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

At four o’clock the next afternoon, Werner arrived punctually at the door of Vonke’s office.

Werner knocked.

"Come in."

Vonke was sitting behind his desk, reading a file.

He was fifty-two this year, his hair already salt-and-pepper, his face a landscape of wrinkles carved by time. On his desk sat a family photo—him, his wife, and his daughter, standing by Schwerin Lake. It was taken ten years ago.

"Werner, sit," Vonke said, closing the file. He looked up, his tone all business. "What’s the progress on the investigation I assigned you?"

"It’s done." Werner sat down in the chair opposite him and pulled an organized report from his briefcase. "There are three new faces on the Black Market, suspected to have drifted over from Leipzig. I had my men tail them for a week and figured out their patterns."

Vonke took the document and skimmed through it.

"Good work," he said, setting the file aside. "This material can be reported up to the deputy director. Your work has always been solid."

"Thank you for your approval, Comrade Vonke."

"Approval is one thing." Vonke leaned back in his chair. "You’ve been... collaborating quite a bit with Von Brown lately, haven’t you?"

’Here it comes.’ Werner’s back tensed, but his face betrayed nothing. "Major von Brown approached me a couple of times recently to assist with a few cases."

"Werner, you’re aware of the current situation in the department, aren’t you?"

"Not really," Werner said, shaking his head honestly. "I’m just a peripheral informant. I don’t have access to these internal matters."

Vonke stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed.

"Last week, Director Schmidt called me in for a talk." Vonke stood up, walked to the window, and spoke with his back to Werner. "He said the department is going to undergo a large-scale personnel adjustment. The work capabilities of certain cadres who haven’t adapted to the new situation need to be re-evaluated."

He paused.

"I’ve worked for the Stasi for twenty-six years. From the post-war anti-fascist purges until now. I’ve seen too many people rise and fall, and I’ve seen too many people do whatever it takes to climb higher."

Werner said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

Vonke turned around and looked Werner in the eye.

"I don’t blame you for working with Von Brown. The situation demands it; it’s only human nature." His voice was calm. "You give me intelligence because I can offer you protection. You give Von Brown intelligence to leave yourself an escape route. There’s no need to hide it."

"Comrade Vonke, I—"

"No need to explain." Vonke waved his hand dismissively and sat back down behind his desk. "I called you here today to tell you one thing. No matter what happens next, you just need to remember this: intelligence work serves the revolutionary cause, not any specific individual."

He pulled open a drawer, took out an envelope, and placed it on the desk.

"Inside is a list of informants I’ve protected over the last two years. If something happens to me, I need you to get a message to them. Tell them to be careful."

Werner stared at the envelope but didn’t reach for it.

"Comrade Vonke, what are you—"

"Don’t overthink it." Vonke pushed the envelope toward him. "It’s just a precaution. Take it."