Chapter 282 - 65: Internal Political Struggle in East Germany (2)

Chapter 282: Chapter 65: Internal Political Struggle in East Germany (2)

His story had to be airtight. He couldn’t give Von Brown any leverage.

At Stasi Headquarters, Von Brown’s office door was ajar. Werner knocked twice.

"Come in."

Werner pushed the door open and went inside.

Von Brown sat behind his desk with several documents spread before him. He looked up, took off his glasses, his expression grim.

"Sit."

Werner sat down and noticed that Von Brown’s ashtray was already piled high with cigarette butts.

"Werner, how long have we known each other?" Von Brown lit a fresh cigarette.

"Eight years," Werner said.

"Eight years," Von Brown repeated, taking a deep drag of his cigarette. "For these eight years, I’ve always treated you as one of my own. When you had problems, I smoothed them over for you. When you made money, I got a piece of the pie. I thought there was trust between us."

"Von Brown, of course there’s trust between us," Werner said.

"Is that so?" Von Brown pushed a document across the desk. "Then explain this. Swiss watches, Scottish whiskey, Cuban cigars. How much of this stuff have you smuggled from West Germany recently?"

Werner glanced at the document, his mind racing as he considered how to answer.

"This is all part of Koko’s normal procurement business. Clients have a demand, and I’m responsible for the supply. All the paperwork is in order."

"Clients?" Von Brown sneered. "Werner, don’t take me for a fool. Do you think I don’t know whose hands this stuff ends up in?"

Werner remained calm.

"Von Brown, I’m just a middleman. Clients place orders, I deliver the goods, I collect the money. What they do with those things is none of my business."

"None of your business?" Von Brown stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to Werner. "Werner, you’re giving gifts to Anger and his cronies. You’re taking sides."

The office was silent for a few seconds.

"Von Brown," Werner’s voice was calm, "I’m just conducting normal business. I haven’t violated any regulations."

Von Brown turned around and stared at Werner for a long time.

Werner met his gaze without flinching.

Von Brown took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling in front of his face. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot.

"Werner, do you have any idea what the current situation is?" Von Brown’s voice was low. "There are people in the Party creating divisions, challenging Comrade Ublis’s authority. This is a betrayal of socialism."

"I don’t understand politics," Werner said.

"Stop pretending." Von Brown stubbed out his cigarette. "You understand better than anyone. You know what Anger is doing, and you know what he wants to do. But you still chose to help him."

Werner was silent for a few seconds. "Von Brown, even if it’s as you say, I’m just a businessman. I don’t get involved in political struggles. I just do business."

"Just do business?" Von Brown sneered. "Werner, in this country, nothing is ’just business.’ Every transaction you make is political."

The two men stared at each other, and the atmosphere in the office froze.

Suddenly, Von Brown’s phone rang.

He picked up the receiver, listened for a few moments, and his expression grew even uglier.

"I understand." He hung up the phone and looked at Werner. "That was a call from Anger’s people. They said Koko’s personnel aren’t to be investigated casually, as it would affect foreign currency income."

Werner breathed a silent sigh of relief but kept his expression calm.

"It seems your backer is quite powerful." Von Brown leaned back in his chair. "Werner, I can’t touch you. At least, not right now. But I’m warning you, don’t think Anger can protect you forever."

"Colonel von Brown—"

"Just go," Von Brown said with a wave of his hand. "I’m tired."

Werner stood up and paused at the door. "Colonel von Brown, have you ever considered what happens if the situation changes?"

Von Brown looked up, his gaze complex. He stared at Werner for a long moment before giving a bitter smile.

"Will the situation change?" He lit another cigarette. "Maybe it will."

"Think about it," Werner said, then walked out of the office.

Walking out of Stasi Headquarters, Werner took a deep breath. His back was a little damp with sweat, but he knew he had made it through.

Von Brown’s attitude made two things clear: first, Anger’s protection was working. Second, Von Brown was starting to waver.

When he returned to his office, Gunter was already waiting for him.

"I heard you were summoned by Von Brown?" Gunter’s face was etched with worry.

"It’s fine. I’m out now." Werner sat down and poured himself a glass of water. "Anger’s people made a move. One of them called Von Brown and told him the Stasi can’t just investigate Koko’s personnel, that it would impact foreign currency income. Von Brown had to back off."

"That’s good. There’s more news." Gunter lowered his voice. "Anger took a trip to Moscow this month. Word is he had a long talk with Brezhnev. After he came back, the political winds within the Party shifted noticeably. Several Politburo members who were previously neutral have now started to publicly support Anger’s line."

Werner understood. Moscow had made its position clear, or at the very least, had hinted at it.

This was a fatal blow to Ublis.

"But you need to be careful," Gunter said. "Ublis is on high alert now. He knows there are people in the Party secretly opposing him. He’s sure to tighten his control in the coming months."

"I know," Werner said. "But time is on our side."

Gunter looked at him, his expression complex. "Are you that certain Anger will win?"

"He will," Werner’s voice was firm.

Because history had already written the ending.

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

Late one night, Werner received a phone call.

"Mr. Schmidt, this is Comrade Anger’s secretary," said a low voice on the other end of the line. "Comrade Anger would like to see you. Is now a convenient time?"

Werner glanced at his watch. It was two in the morning.

"It is. What’s the address?"

"Bandelin Villa District, Number 12."

Werner drove to the Bandelin Villa District.

This was the most exclusive residential area in East Berlin, home to high-ranking Party officials. Number 12 was a detached villa, dimly lit and surrounded by silence.

Werner got out of the car and rang the doorbell. The door opened, and a middle-aged man in civilian clothes stood in the doorway.

"Mr. Betelich, please come in."

Werner stepped inside, walked down a hallway, and entered the living room.

Anger was sitting on the sofa, a glass of liquor in his hand. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot.

"Werner, sit." Anger pointed to the sofa opposite him.

Werner sat down. The secretary poured him a glass of liquor, handed it to him, then withdrew and closed the door.

Only the two of them remained in the living room.

"I hear you’ve had some trouble recently." Anger took a sip of his drink.

"It’s been resolved, thank you, Comrade Anger," Werner said.

"No need to thank me." Anger waved his hand dismissively. "You’ve helped us a great deal. It’s only right."

Werner didn’t speak, waiting for Anger to continue.

"Werner, do you know the current situation?" Anger leaned back on the sofa, his voice low. "Ublis is becoming more and more stubborn. He refuses to reform, refuses to compromise with West Germany. He thinks he can maintain his rule through force, but he’s wrong."

"Times have changed," Werner said.

"Correct." Anger looked at him. "Times have changed, but some people are still living in the past. I went to Moscow last month. Comrade Brezhnev told me that détente is the prevailing trend. Whoever obstructs détente will be eliminated by history."

Werner’s heart skipped a beat.

’Anger was implying that Moscow no longer supported Ublis.’